text: [Themes: Historical Fantasy, male protagonist]
  
  > Look around
  This small chamber apparently does duty as dressing-room and office
  for the parish priest. A row of cupboards, presumably containing vestments and altar furniture, lines the north wall, while a small
  desk nestles against the east one. The way back into the chapel lies south, but a large wooden door leads west. A small metal hook is set into the wall next to this door.
  
  A plain wooden chair rests by the desk.
  
  On the small wooden desk is a sermon. On the hook is a large iron
  key.
  
  Father Andrew is seated at his desk, but has turned to face you.
  
  > look at the cupboards
  They're plain-fronted wooden cupboards that presumably contain vestments, altar furniture, and other such ecclesiastical equipment.
  
  > examine the desk
  It has a sloping top, and is quite narrow, with only just enough room to write on. On the small wooden desk is a sermon.
  
  Father Andrew turns back to his desk and resumes work on his sermon.
  
  > get the key
  "Thou shalt not steal!" barks Father Andrew, knocking your hand
  aside.
  
  > go west
  (first trying to open the large wooden door)
  The large wooden door seems to be locked.
  
  > Topics
  You could ask him about the blight, Mrs Pascoe, mad Meg, or himself,
  or tell him about yourself.
  
  > ask about the mrs pascoe
  "Excuse me," you say.
  
  Father Andrew turns in his chair and looks up at you. "Yes?" he
  asks.
  
  "Where can I find Mrs Pascoe?" you ask.
  
  "She'll be working in the fish-house I imagine, down by the
  jetty," he
  tells you.
  
  > keep going
  He's already told you that she's probably working in the fish-house down by the jetty.
  
  > ask about Meg
  "What else can you tell me about this Meg person?" you ask.
  
  "She lives out of town, somewhere in the forest to the north, like
  the
  wild creature she is," Father Andrew tells you. "I tell you this, young man, if you want to atone for your past sins and escape the
  wrath of God, you must do what none of the sinners here have yet dared to do: confront the evil witch and put her to death! Burning her at the stake would be proper, but I am sure that God in His mercy will find acceptable whatever means of putting her to death you can manage: 'Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live!'"
  
  > ask about the witches
  Father Andrew remains silent, merely raising one eyebrow as if to indicate that your question really wasn't worth the bother of asking, let alone the bother of answering.
  
  > ask about Meg
  "If this Meg is so obviously an evil witch, how come no one else
  wants
  to put her to death?" you ask.
  
  "The Duke will not allow it; he protects her," Father Andrew tells
  you. "If he knew his duty to God he would order her to be burned!
  But instead..."
  
  > Keep going
  "Are you quite sure this Meg woman is a witch?" you ask.
  
  "Quite sure," he nods emphatically. "She has brought the blight
  upon
  us, and is constantly mixing potions and casting spells in that forest of hers. Young man, seize this opportunity to save your soul: seek this woman out and slay her!"
  
  > Keep going
  "What makes you so sure that it's Meg who's responsible for the blight?" you inquire.
  
  "You are new here, so I must make allowance for your questioning,"
  he
  replies. "If you had been here as long as I, her guilt would be obvious to you. Just ask the Pascoes, whose land was ruined by the blight. Or go and look at the blighted land for yourself – it's
  not
  far to walk. I tell you, nothing natural can have caused the land to die like that, and there's only one person on this island who
  practises witchcraft – that Meg!"
  
  > ask about the murder
  "Wouldn't killing mad Meg be a sin?" you wonder. "'Thou
  shalt do no
  murder' as the good book says."
  
  "Killing that witch would not be murder!" he thunders, "or else
  the
  good book would not command the death of witches!"
  
  > ask about the lust
  "What do you think of lust?" you ask.
  
  "It's sinful, obviously," he replies.
  
  > ask about Meg
  "But is there any real evidence connecting this Meg with the
  blight?"
  you venture to ask.
  
  Father Andrew regards you steadily for a few moments, then replies,
  "If you want convincing, go and speak to Mrs Pascoe; she can tell her story better than I."
  
  (You could ask him who Mrs Pascoe is.)
  
  > ask about Meg
  You have heard enough of Father Andrew's views on mad Meg: so far as he's concerned she's the worst sinner on the island, a witch who
  should not be allowed to live; killing her would, in his view, therefore help atone for your past sins. He's also told you that she lives in the forest to the north of town, and that (in his opinion) she's demon-possessed and was born out of wedlock. Finally, he suggests you speak to Mrs Pascoe about her.
  
  > ask who Mrs Pascoe is
  "Who is this Mrs Pascoe?" you ask.
  
  "Her husband had a farm up just south of the Ridge," he explains.
  "Mad Meg used to live with them. When they realized she was a witch, they threw her out. It was shortly after then that the blight came, but it was only their land that was affected. In the end they had to leave the farm – nothing could live there. They were left absolutely destitute, of course. Now Jennifer Pascoe has been reduced to gutting fish while her husband mends the fishermen's nets."
  
  > Topics
  You could ask him about the blight, or himself, or tell him about yourself.
  
  > ask about himself
  "And what do you do here, apart from holding services?" you ask him
  
  "Pray for the people, visit the sick – all the things a good priest should do," he tells you.
  
  > keep going
  "How long have you been on the island; were you born here?" you
  ask.
  
  "No, I wasn't born here," he tells you. "I was on a ship that foundered, and fetched up here about twenty years ago," he replies.
  
  > ask him about the ship
  "I was hoping you could tell me something about ships," you say.
  
  "And I was hoping to get this sermon written," he replies.
  
  > ask him about himself
  "What did you do before you came to this island?" you wonder.
  
  "I was a chaplain to Cromwell's army," he tells you, "but when
  the
  Restoration came it seemed politic to go elsewhere. The wind of
  change that blew in Charles II wasn't going to be kind to my sort."
  
  You refrain from pointing out that he seems to be referring to events 145 years ago, suspecting that he might not be quite right in the
  head.
  
  > ask him about himself
  He's already told you a bit about himself: as part of his priestly duties he prays for the islanders and visits the sick; he came here about twenty years ago when his ship foundered. He says he had been a chaplain to Cromwell's forces and was fleeing England at the Restoration; since Charles II came to the throne 145 years ago this hardly seems likely, so you decide to stop pressing him any further,
  in case he's a little unhinged.
  
  > ask him about Cromwell
  "Did you say you were a chaplain to Cromwell's army? Do
  you
  mean Oliver Cromwell?" you ask.
  
  "That's right; what other Cromwell had an army? Surely not Thomas!
  But I know why you look so askance at the thought - you're a
  royalist!
  Well, you and I shall never agree on that score, but such differences are of little moment here, so perhaps we should let the matter drop."
  
  > ask him about Cromwell
  When you asked he confirmed that he was indeed a chaplain to Oliver Cromwell's army, but seemed to think that the only reason you queried it was because your sympathies are royalist. He can't possibly be
  that old, of course, but in the face of his assertions there seems nothing for it but to accept his suggestion to let the matter drop.
  
  > Topics
  You could ask him about the blight, or tell him about yourself.
  
  > Continue
  You have already introduced yourself to him.
  
  > ask about the blight
  "What caused the blight, do you think?" you inquire.
  
  "It's nothing natural, that's for certain," he tells you.
  "As I told
  you, it's either that witch Meg's sorcery or divine retribution for
  it. Either way, it is mad Meg's fault, and she should be punished
  for
  it."
  
  > Continue
  "What can be done about the blight?" you ask.
  
  "Is it not obvious?" he replies. "To remove the blight you must
  remove its cause. As I have already told you, the witch must die.
  You would serve God and the people of this island well if you killed her."
  
  > Keep going
  on the island, that it clearly isn't a natural phenomenon, and that it's either a direct result of mad Meg's sorcery or a divine
  punishment for allowing the witch, Meg, to live. He has also
  suggested that the way to cure the blight is to remove its cause, namely Meg, and that you would do both God and the islanders a service by killing her.
  
  > Go south
  Father Andrew turns back to his desk and resumes work on his sermon.
  
  This little chapel is about as bare as a place of Christian worship gets. The rough stone walls are unplastered, and the pews little more than plain wooden benches. The stone altar at the east end is quite unadorned, although presumably something is put on it when worship is in progress. The street exit is to the west, but another, smaller
  open doorway leads north.
  
  > go to the west
  The street is narrow here, barely wide enough for two people to pass, and looks just as narrow as it continues to north and south. An ancient stone chapel stands immediately to the east, opposite a
  terrace of mean little cottages hugging the west side of the street.
  
  > go south
  This crossroads, at what may be the centre of the town, is formed by meeting of roads to north, south, east and west. All four roads lead between grim, grey buildings; the road to the east looks quite short, while that to the west leads up a distant hill. The roads to north
  and south look as if they run on quite a way, but just a short way to the south you can see a hanging inn-sign.
  
  > go to the south
  The west side of this long, grubby street is dominated by the Red Dragon Inn, while on the opposite side squats a row of bleak stone cottages. The street continues to north and south over well-worn cobbles.
  
  > go south
  Leading down from the town to the north towards a stone jetty to the south, this steep track is little more than a well-trodden path along the edge of the barren scrubland that extends to the east. A narrow side-track runs off through a thicket to the southwest.
  
  > go to the east
  the west, and ends at clifftops to northeast and southeast. The area is deserted and little grows here but some scraggy grass, impoverished by the thin, stony soil. A long wooden fence runs along much of the northern boundary of this largely wasted space, but otherwise it is open to the elements.
  
  > go to the west
  Leading down from the town to the north towards a stone jetty to the south, this steep track is little more than a well-trodden path along the edge of the barren scrubland that extends to the east. A narrow side-track runs off through a thicket to the southwest.
  
  > Go south
  The steep track from the north comes to an end at this bleak stone jetty, which is flanked by a large wooden building to the east and the beach stretching out along the bay to the west. The jetty juts just a short way out into the water, and both from the smell and from the
  fish fragments lying about, obviously serves as a landing stage for
  the island's fishermen. No boats are tied up here at the moment, but there are several a short way out to sea in the bay.
  
  It would be an exaggeration to say that the smell of rotting fish is overpowering, since you are not overpowered by it, but it is certainly inescapable.
  
  > go east
  as it does from the outside. A pair of long wooden benches run along the walls, covered in fish in various stages of being processed. The way out is back to the west.
  
  A large group of women are at work gutting fish.
  
  at you.
  
  The smell of raw fish is almost overpowering.
  
  A woman nearest the entrance looks up from her work. "Yes?" she
  asks.
  "Was there anything you wanted?"
  
  (You could ask her about mad Meg, or ask her who she is.)
  
  > ask her who she is
  "And who might you be?" you inquire.
  
  "I'm Jennifer Pascoe, Samuel Pascoe's wife, if it's any
  business of
  yours," she replies.
  
  > ask her about Meg
  "Do you know anything about the woman they call 'mad Meg'?" you inquire.
  
  "Her?" she almost spits. "Oh, I knows about mad Meg all right.
  Cuckoo in the nest, she were. Raised her as my own, I did, when her own mother didn't want her. But her mother knew what she were doing when she got rid of her!"
  
  > Keep going
  "Do you have something in particular against Meg?" you ask.
  
  "Do I have something against her!" she laughs scornfully. "At
  first I
  thought she were just a little soft in the head. Couldn't help that, not her fault, I thought, so I were kind to her. Then I learned better: she's a witch."
  
  > continue
  "Why do you think Meg's a witch?" you want to know.
  
  "Besides her saying all those strange things, and mixing all those strange potions, you mean?" she asks. "Besides her meddling with things best left alone? Well, it were what she did to my son that finally opened my eyes, that's what."
  
  > Continue
  "What did Meg do to your son that so upset you?" you ask.
  
  "She bewitched him, that's what," Jennifer Pascoe replies.
  "Reckon
  she bewitched my Sam a bit too, since he never saw through her. I
  mean what she made him do – my son, I mean – it weren't right,
  and
  it's not as if she's that pretty after all. Of course she lied
  about
  it afterwards, claimed my boy tried to rape her. I ask you! Calling my own boy a liar! Well, she couldn't stay after that!"
  
  The smell of raw fish is almost overpowering.
  
  > Keep going
  "You think Meg seduced your son, and that makes her a witch?" you
  ask
  incredulously.
  
  "Bewitched – she bewitched him," Jennifer Pascoe replies. "But
  it
  didn't end there. After we threw her out she cursed our land, and
  year on year after that we watched it die as the blight took hold, until we were left with nothing. She's a witch, all right. Ought to be burned at the stake by rights, just as Father Andrew says."
  
  > continue
  with her. It's clear she thinks Meg is a witch, partly because she thinks Meg bewitched her son into having sexual intercourse with her (so far as you can gather from her slightly confused account) but mainly because she thinks Meg cursed her husband's land and brought
  the blight upon it.
  
  > ask her about the blight
  "What can you tell me about the blight?" you ask.
  
  "It destroyed us, that's what!" she snaps. "A slow creeping
  death,
  bit by bit. It killed the land – you must know that – but it
  nearly
  killed us too, and I don't just mean the near starvation. In the
  last
  year before we had to move out, we all felt sickly and weak – my hair even started to fall out. If we hadn't gone when we did, we'd have ended up like the soil!"
  
  > ask her about the blight
  "So you think the blight drains the life-force out of everything?"
  you
  enquire.
  
  "That's just what it does," she nods.
  
  > ask her about the island
  "Haven't you got anything better to do than stand here asking me questions?" she asks sourly.
  
  > ask her about the sword
  "I can't see any reason why I should tell you about that," she
  replies.
  
  > Topics
  You could ask her about the blight, or herself, or tell her about her son.
  
  > ask her about the blight
  "Do you have any ideas what might have caused the blight?" you ask.
  
  "I know exactly what caused it, it were that witch – mad Meg!"
  she
  declares. "The girl put a curse on our land, that's what did it.
  If
  you don't believe, just ask yourself this: why did the blight stop after destroying our farm – why was it only our land that was destroyed?"
  
  > ask her about the blight
  She's already given you her opinion: she thinks the blight is the result of Meg cursing her husband's land. She also thinks it drains the life-force out of everything.
  
  The smell of raw fish is almost overpowering.
  
  > ask her about her
  "How long have you been working here for?" you ask.
  
  "Depends what you mean," she grunts. "If you mean today, then
  since
  dawn. If you mean in all, then it's been about two years now, ever since we lost the farm."
  
  > ask her about her
  "How do you enjoy the work here?" you enquire.
  
  "It's smelly and messy and I hate it," she tells you, "but
  it's the
  best I can get."
  
  > ask her about her
  She's already told you that she's been working in the fish-house
  for
  two years and that she hates it.
  
  > ask her about the son
  "I think I've met your son, but not under the happiest of circumstances," you say. "He was trying to rob Lady Inalda."
  
  "That's a lie!" Jennifer Pascoe cries. "Or else you don't
  know your
  arse from your elbow. My son wouldn't do a thing like that.
  You've
  gone and muddled him with someone else, that's what!"
  
  > ask her about Ridge
  "You're just wasting my time with questions like that!" she
  complains.
  
  > Smell fish
  The smell of raw fish is almost overpowering.
  
  > get the fish
  You're quite content to leave the fish to the women.