text: [Themes: Historical Fantasy, fantasy, male protagonist, maritime]
  
  > describe your surroundings
  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.
  
  Jennifer Pascoe is standing here.
  
  The smell of raw fish is almost overpowering.
  
  > ask about Sam
  "I've met your husband, just a little way down the beach mending
  nets," you tell her. "How is he coping, do you think?"
  
  "How do you think he's coping?" she retorts bitterly. "How
  would you
  cope if you lost everything and were reduced to working for a
  pittance? Oh, he does his best – he always did his best – but his spirit is broke, poor man."
  
  > ask about Duke
  "What do you think of the Duke?" you ask.
  
  "He cares for no one but himself," she replies, "except that
  fancy
  cousin of his – and he cares for her far too much, if you take my meaning."
  
  > ask about Inalda
  She doesn't seem to be very receptive to your attempts to tell her
  what her son did to Lady Inalda.
  
  > ask about Duke
  She's already told you that the Duke cares for no one but himself, except that he cares for his cousin far too much.
  
  > go west
  Jennifer Pascoe resumes sorting through her pile of fish.
  
  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 west
  The beach comes to an end at the stone jetty which lies just to the east. In the opposite direction the bay stretches off in a wide arc
  to the northwest, while a narrow track runs up through a thicket to
  the northeast. A little way out to sea is a fleet of fishing boats.
  
  > look at fleet
  A large, if motley, collection of boats stands out a short way from shore in the sea. The nets hanging over the sides of the nearest
  boats make it quite obvious that they are engaged in fishing.
  Clearly, not all the island's fishermen are busily engaged in
  drinking
  the Red Dragon dry.
  
  > go to the north-east
  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 south-west
  The beach comes to an end at the stone jetty which lies just to the east. In the opposite direction the bay stretches off in a wide arc
  to the northwest, while a narrow track runs up through a thicket to
  the northeast. A little way out to sea is a fleet of fishing boats.
  
  > go northwest
  The beach stretches away to both northwest and southeast from here,
  its approximate mid-point. A short way to the north the ground climbs sharply up a hill, while out to sea a collection of fishing-boats is stretched out across the bay.
  
  A small green toolbox lies on the beach beside a fishing net.
  
  The small green toolbox contains a screwdriver.
  
  Samuel Pascoe is sitting on the beach mending the net.
  
  > Go northwest
  A steep cliff blocks the way north, and the sea lies to the west, but you can go up a hill to the east, while the beach continues to the southeast. Out to sea a collection of boats bob around fishing.
  
  > look at boats
  A large, if motley, collection of boats stands out a short way from shore in the sea. The nets hanging over the sides of the nearest
  boats make it quite obvious that they are engaged in fishing.
  Clearly, not all the island's fishermen are busily engaged in
  drinking
  the Red Dragon dry.
  
  > examine the cliff
  The cliff is like a bony finger thrust out into the sea; more prosaically it's a narrow rocky promontory that blocks the way north, too high and too steep to climb.
  
  > go east
  The summit of this low hill is fairly flat, and continues to the northwest. To the north, it descends quite rapidly into a hollow, while to south and east it slopes down towards the beach, and grass gives way to sand. To the east are the faint traces of the track
  which become a street running back down towards the centre of the
  town. Although you're not that high up, you get a clear view over
  the
  sea from here, truncated by the ever-present mist.
  
  > go east
  This looks like the roughest part of town, with the road surface equally pitted up the hill to the west and down to the east. The cottages on either side of the street look more thrown together than built, being rough and tiny.
  
  > go east
  To the east the street is fairly level, but a short distance to the west it starts to climb a shallow hill. At this point the street runs between a small bakery to the north, and a narrow alley to the south.
  
  The smell of baking bread wafts from the bakery.
  
  > Go south
  This small back yard is walled in on all sides, although a narrow
  alley runs off to the north, and the back door to the tavern lies
  east. Next to the back door is the mouth of a chute, which is presumably to allow beer barrels to be rolled down into the cellar beneath.
  
  Several barrels are stacked in a corner of the yard.
  
  > examine the barrels
  The barrels are stacked quite carefully, just a little way from the wall behind.
  
  > Search barrels
  The barrels are stacked too high. You'd first have to dismantle the stack to get at one of the barrels, and that seems like far too much unnecesary labour.
  
  > examine the chute
  You can't see very far into it; from here it's just a dark hole;
  but
  it does look about the right size to roll in a large barrel on its side.
  
  > climb the barrels
  The barrels are stacked too high.
  
  > enter the chute
  It's not really big enough, and you're not sure how safe it would
  be
  if it was.
  
  > look at the barrel
  The barrels are stacked quite carefully, just a little way from the wall behind.
  
  > Unstack barrel
  The word "unstack" is not necessary in this story.
  
  > look in the barrel
  The barrels are stacked too high. You'd first have to dismantle the stack to get at one of the barrels, and that seems like far too much unnecesary labour.
  
  > Go north
  To the east the street is fairly level, but a short distance to the west it starts to climb a shallow hill. At this point the street runs between a small bakery to the north, and a narrow alley to the south.
  
  The smell of baking bread wafts from the bakery.
  
  > Go south
  This small back yard is walled in on all sides, although a narrow
  alley runs off to the north, and the back door to the tavern lies
  east. Next to the back door is the mouth of a chute, which is presumably to allow beer barrels to be rolled down into the cellar beneath.
  
  Several barrels are stacked in a corner of the yard.
  
  > go east
  (first trying to open the back door)
  The back door seems to be locked.
  
  > examine the back door
  It's closed.
  
  > Go north
  To the east the street is fairly level, but a short distance to the west it starts to climb a shallow hill. At this point the street runs between a small bakery to the north, and a narrow alley to the south.
  
  The smell of baking bread wafts from the bakery.
  
  > Go north
  It feels distinctly warm in here, even though only one of the ovens running along the rear wall is lit. No wares are on display: both the shelves against the east wall and the serving counter towards the rear are totally bare, apart from a light dusting of what could be traces either of flour or of sawdust. To the south lies the way out back to the street.
  
  A baker is bent over one of the ovens, with his back to you.
  
  There's a strong smell of baking bread.
  
  > talk to the baker
  "Excuse me," you say.
  
  The baker turns to face you. "If 'tis bread th'art after,
  th'art out
  of luck," he tells you. "This batch is all for the castle."
  
  (You could ask him about himself, or tell him about yourself.)
  
  > ask about the bread
  "You're baking a batch of bread?" you surmise.
  
  "That's right," he says, "for the castle. The Duke insists
  that the
  castle must come first, and I'm so short of flour... well, I'm so
  short of flour I'd give a silver coin for a sackful now, I would."
  
  > ask about yourself
  "Wait!" he interrupts you, sniffing the air. "Canst thou smell burning?" He turns round and fiddles with his oven for a couple of moments, before coming back to you having quite forgotten your question. "Apologies, sir; but I must not let this batch spoil."
  
  > ask about myself
  He scratches his beard and begins, "Well, it's like this, sir; or
  maybe it's more like that. The truth is..." he tales off as he
  loses
  the thread of his own thoughts.
  
  > ask about ship
  "What was your ship like?" you ask.
  
  "Well, sir, I was the cook rather than the captain, if thou seest my meaning, so I cannot give thee every nautical detail, but she was a
  new ship and a fast one, smaller than the Spaniards, and able to show them a clean pair of heels after snapping at them – and her cannon packed quite a bite!" he tells you.
  
  There's a strong smell of baking bread.
  
  > ask about Spaniards
  Alan Biddock scratches his beard in puzzlement.
  
  > ask about the Castle
  "Can you tell me anything about the castle?" you inquire.
  
  "Maybe I can," he answers, "and maybe I won't.".
  
  > ask about the Castle
  "What do you think about the castle?" you ask.
  
  "What indeed?" he replies.
  
  > ask about Duke
  "What do you think of Duke William?" you ask.
  
  "Like his father before him, he fancies himself a nobleman in the
  grand style, not realizing how petty his demesne is, and how slight
  his achievements," Alan Biddock replies. "But though he be vain,
  he
  is not uncommon vicious."
  
  > ask about Meg
  "Do you know anything about the woman they call mad Meg?" you ask.
  
  "Well, they do say she's a witch," he replies, "and many there
  are
  that blame her for the blight. As for me, well, I hardly know her, only set eyes on her once or twice; she be comely enough, but strange too, I reckon."
  
  > ask about blight
  "What do you know of the blight?" you ask.
  
  "That it has made grain hard to come by," he replies laconically.
  
  > ask about smuggling
  "So tell me, as one seaman to another, is there any sea-going
  activity
  of any sort round here – apart from fishing?" you ask.
  
  "I know not what thou mean'st, sir," he replies. "What kind of seafaring could there be, when thou canst not penetrate the mist? And there's not many round here takes to boats for pleasure!"
  
  > Continue
  "I had heard there were smugglers at work," you tell him. "If
  that's
  true then there must be some way through the mist."
  
  "Thou art right this far: there could be no one smuggling without getting through that stuff," he agrees.
  
  There's a strong smell of baking bread.
  
  > continue
  "So, do you know of any smuggling round here?" you ask him.
  
  "Now, what would I want with smugglers?" he retorts. "Joe Fanton
  grows the corn, it gets ground in the mill, and I bake it into bread here, with no shortage of people willing to buy. There's no
  smuggling
  in any of that – all home grown and home produced."
  
  > continue
  "People often want more than bread," you point out. "Maybe other things are brought in from the outside?"
  
  "Maybe," he replies. "Man shall not live by bread alone, as
  Moses
  tells us. But then I'm no busybody; I don't go poking my nose into others' affairs."
  
  > continue
  You decide to drop the subject; if Alan Biddock knows anything about any smuggling he's clearly not willing to tell you about it; about
  the
  only thing he's possibly let slip is that anyone who is smuggling
  would have to have found a way through the "enchanted" mist
  that's
  keeping everyone else confined to the island.
  
  > ask about the priest
  "What do you make of Father Andrew?" you ask.
  
  "A bit too Protestant for my taste," he replies, "but then I
  always
  did prefer the old ways – not that I go along with the Pope sending
  the Spaniards at us, thou understandest. This priest may be well-meaning but he is also – a trifle angular, shall we say."
  
  > ask about Julia
  "What do you make of Julia Trelawney?" you ask. "I assume you
  know
  her?"
  
  "Reckon about everyone on this island knows the Trelawneys," he
  tells
  you. "Now, young Mistress Trelawney seems like one who knows her own mind, pleasant enough, but not to be dallied with lightly, I'd
  say."
  
  > ask about Sally
  "Do you know Sally Penhaligon?" you ask.
  
  "The lass that keeps the shop? Yes I know her, well enough. Good enough woman, I reckon, but already spoken for," he replies.
  
  > Topics
  You could ask him about himself, or tell him about yourself.
  
  > ask about himself
  "So how long have you been on this island?" you ask.
  
  "Ah – must be nigh on ten years now," he replies, scratching his
  beard. "We'd just fought a battle against a great Spanish fleet
  – and
  given those Dago papists a right drubbing! Philip's beard was more than singed that time, I'll wager!"
  
  > Go south
  Alan Biddock gives you a curt nod and returns to his oven.
  
  To the east the street is fairly level, but a short distance to the west it starts to climb a shallow hill. At this point the street runs between a small bakery to the north, and a narrow alley to the south.
  
  The smell of baking bread wafts from the bakery.
  
  > go to the east
  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 north
  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 north
  A pair of granite cottages mark the northern edge of the town, the
  bulk of which lies to the south. To the north the road crosses a
  small stone bridge, while a wide path winds up the grassy hill to the west. The way east is barred by the impenetrable woodland behind the cottages.
  
  > go north
  The bridge is narrow, but in a reasonable state of repair apart from the parapet, which is starting to crumble in places. From the brow of the bridge you can see a stream racing eastwards to power a mill. To the south the road runs back into town, while to the north it turns into a farm-track.
  
  > go north
  This short length of farm track comes to an end at the narrow stone bridge just to the south and peters out into open country a short way north. Its main purpose seems to be to serve the large water-mill
  that stands immediately to the east. On the opposite side of the
  track a stream flows briskly past to the south before turning east under the bridge; beyond the stream lurks the bulk of Castle Hill, its face too steep to climb even if you could somehow cross the stream to reach it.
  
  > go north
  Ripe wheat sways gently in the breeze the length and breadth of this large level field. Some way off to the west lies a farmyard, while directly to the east stands a large wood. To the north the field eventually runs into open pasture; to the south, a rough farm track leads back towards the town.
  
  A farmer is at work, harvesting the wheat with a scythe.
  
  > talk to the farmer
  "Hello, there!" you greet him.
  
  "Hello," he replies, a little suspiciously.
  
  (You could ask him about the blight, himself, Meg, Cadan Pascoe, or smuggling, or tell him about yourself.)
  
  > ask about himself
  "And you are...?" you ask.
  
  "Joe Fanton," he tells you. "I own this farm – and run most of
  it
  myself!"
  
  > tell Joe about yourself
  "I'm Lieutenant James Corby, Royal Navy," you introduce yourself.
  "I
  was washed ashore here this morning."
  
  "Washed ashore were you?" he replies. "Well, you weren't the
  first
  and you won't be the last."
  
  > ask about blight
  "What can you tell me about the blight, Mr Fanton?" you ask.
  
  "The blight?" he echoes scornfully. "Well, it ruined old Pascoe,
  and
  that's for sure. Mercifully it hardly touched my land – reckon God must be smiling on me."
  
  > Continue
  "Do you have any ideas what the blight might be, or what caused
  it?"
  you inquire.
  
  Joe Fanton shakes his head. "I never saw the likes of it before, I
  can tell you that. At first we thought it was hard winters, but it affected Pascoe's crops more'an mine, and that made no sense. Then
  we
  thought his crops had got some kind o' plant disease, so we called it the blight. But it's pretty obviously the soil that's sick, like
  it's
  had all the goodness drained out of it, and I can't think of anything that would do that."
  
  > ask about Cadan
  "Do you know Cadan Pascoe?" you ask.
  
  "Of course I know Cadan Pascoe," he replies. "His father Sam was
  my
  neighbour till the blight came."
  
  > ask about Cadan
  "What's your opinion of Cadan Pascoe?" you inquire.
  
  "A bit of a wild lad, but hard-working enough," he tells you.
  "He
  always pulled his weight on his father's farm – looked forward to running it himself one day, I'll be bound. I think he took it even harder than his parents when the blight drove them off. But I don't feel that sorry for him, to be honest; I never really took to him, see – there's something not right about him."
  
  > ask about Cadan
  "Did you know Cadan Pascoe attacked Lady Inalda earlier today?" you ask.
  
  "Did he now?" Joe Fanton declares. "I always thought he had a
  wild
  streak in him, but I never thought he'd go that far!"
  
  > ask about Cadan
  He's already told you that he considers Cadan Pascoe to be hard-working; he pulled his weight on his father's farm, and probably looked forward to running it himself one day; he took it even harder than his parents when the blight forced them to leave. Joe Fanton thinks Cadan Pascoe has a wild streak, but was surprised to learn that he's gone as far as attacking Lady Inalda. But even before you told Joe Fanton about the attack on Lady Inalda he said he thought there
  was something not quite right about Cadan.
  
  > Topics
  You could ask him about the blight, himself, Meg, or smuggling.
  
  > ask about the blight
  "Could the source of the blight be over the far side of the Ridge?"
  you ask.
  
  "Could be," he allows. "No one knows what's there, do they?
  But then
  that's just explaining one mystery by another, seems to me."
  
  > ask about blight
  Joe Fanton has probably told you as much about the blight as he can:
  he says it ruined Pascoe's land but spared his, that it at first
  seemed like a crop disease but turned out to be a sickness of the
  soil, with all the goodness being drained out of it. He can't think
  of anything that would have that effect.
  
  > ask about himself
  "And have you lived here all your life, Mr Fanton?" you inquire.
  
  "That's right," he tells you. "I inherited this farm from my
  father,
  as he did from his."
  
  > ask about Meg
  "Do you know Meg – the one they call mad Meg?" you ask.
  
  "I see her from time to time," he tells you. "She keeps herself
  to
  herself mostly, and that's fine by me, after all she's a – well,
  she
  may be, you know what people say."
  
  > ask about Meg
  "What do people say about Meg?" you ask.
  
  "Well, some say she's a healer, and others say she's a witch.
  Not
  that I understand these things, mind, but it never hurts to be too careful!" he replies.
  
  > ask about Meg
  "Have you ever known Meg do any witch-like things, like casting spells?" you ask.
  
  "Well – no, but then I'm not sure I'd know a witch's spell if
  I saw
  one," he confesses, "but she is mighty strange, that I can tell
  you.
  It's not natural for a young woman to live all her own in a wood, keeping out of folks' way. And the way she's been spending her
  time
  lately – well!" he shakes his head.
  
  > ask about Meg
  "How has Meg been spending her time lately?" you ask.
  
  "Up at Pascoe's farm – or what's left of it," he tells you.
  "I know
  she was raised there, and I know she left under a cloud, but there's nothing left there now but dead soil and dust, so what she can be spending all that time there for..." he shakes his head and sighs, "Well, it seems mighty strange to me, but I often see her go up that way."
  
  > ask about Meg
  You can't think of anything else to ask him about her right now:
  he's
  told you that some think her a witch, and some a healer, and though he doesn't know one way or the other, he feels it best to play safe and stay clear of her. He's never seen Meg cast a spell or do anything obviously witch-like, but then he's not sure he'd recognize it if
  he
  did. He does think her rather odd, both because she lives all alone
  in the wood, and because she's spending a lot of time up at
  Pascoe's
  farm, even though there's nothing left there now but a barren waste.
  
  > tell about Meg
  "Maybe you can tell me about that when I haven't got a field of
  ripe
  wheat to harvest," he suggests.
  
  > tell about yourself
  You've already introduced yourself, and you don't get the
  impression
  that Joe Fanton wants to hear your life story right now.
  
  > ask about the smuggling
  "I don't suppose you know anything about any smuggling that's
  meant to
  be going on round here," you ask.
  
  "I might, and then again I might not," he replies warily.
  
  > ask about the smuggling
  He's clearly not going to say anything on that subject until you win his confidence.
  
  > Topics
  You could ask him about himself.
  
  > ask Joe about Joe
  "You must be quite busy here," you remark.
  
  "That I am," he nods, in a tone of voice that almost implies,
  "too
  busy to be wasting time chatting with the likes of you."
  
  > ask about the mill
  "Does anyone use the mill?" you ask. "It looked deserted when I visited it earlier!"
  
  "That's probably because the miller has virtually no grain left to
  mill until I get the harvest in," Joe Fanton explains, "so
  there's not
  much for him to do there. He also has a boat, so he's probably out fishing."
  
  > ask about himself
  He's already told you that his name is Joe Fanton and that he
  inherited this farm from his father, who inherited it from
  his father.
  
  > Topics
  Fanton.
  
  > ask about the wheat
  "Will you have a good grain harvest this year, do you think?" you
  ask.
  
  "Good enough," he replies. "At least, good enough for normal
  times –
  enough to feed half the island, give or take. Not enough to make up for the lack of Pascoe's grain, though."
  
  > Keep going
  He's already told you he expects a reasonable grain harvest, but not enough to make up the shortfall due to the loss of Pascoe's land.
  
  > examine the wheat
  Ripe wheat sways gently in the breeze the length and breadth of this large level field. Some way off to the west lies a farmyard, while directly to the east stands a large wood. To the north the field eventually runs into open pasture; to the south, a rough farm track leads