text: [Themes: Historical Fantasy, creeping doom]
  
  > Look around
  Too small to count as a bailey, the courtyard is completely enclosed
  by the castle wall. An archway leads out of the courtyard to the south, while to the north stands a misshapen keep. What looks like a stable block rests against the western wall, and a long crude
  building, perhaps a barrack block for the castle guard, occupies the east wall.
  
  Lady Inalda is standing facing you in the middle of the courtyard.
  
  > look at stable
  The stable block is a low wooden building running along the inside of the west wall, and abutting the tower at the southwestern corner of
  the keep.
  
  > look at the tower
  The stubby round tower sticks up at the southwestern corner of the keep, abutting the stable block. A single window high up in the tower overlooks the courtyard.
  
  > examine keep
  Either the keep was never completed, or parts have been added on
  almost at random, since the building (which in any case is probably little more than a glorified manor house) has a decidedly lopsided appearance. The greatest affront to symmetry is the single round
  tower standing at the southwestern corner, but the entire building is ugly, though large, as if its designers couldn't agree whether it was intended for defence, grandeur or comfort and accordingly botched all three objectives.
  
  > examine the window
  The stubby round tower sticks up at the southwestern corner of the keep, abutting the stable block. A single window high up in the tower overlooks the courtyard.
  
  > Bye
  "Take care now, lieutenant, and be sure to come back and tell me when you have something to report," Lady Inalda tells you.
  
  > Go south
  The archway is at least eight feet wide and twelve high. It's also a good nine feet deep, indicating the thickness of the wall at this point. Two pairs of rusty hinges embedded in the walls indicate where some gates might once have hung, and an equally rusty drum by the east wall looks as if it might once have been part of a mechanism for raising and lowering a portcullis. The arch is oriented north-south, leading out of the castle to the south and into it to the north. But of the gate and portcullis themselves there is no sign.
  
  The guard stands in the middle of the arch.
  
  The guard eyes you suspiciously.
  
  > go to the south
  The top of Castle Hill affords an excellent view over much of the southern part of the island, but the view to the north is blocked by the castle, which occupies most of the space up here. The archway leading into the castle lies directly to the north, while the path leading back down to the hill runs south.
  
  > go south
  Half-way up the grassy hillside, the path up from the east turns sharply north as it continues up the slope. The bend in the path affords an excellent view over the town below.
  
  > go to the east
  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 south
  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 east
  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.
  
  > examine the altar
  The altar is almost totally unadorned; presumably it is stripped bare between services. An indication of its antiquity is not simply that
  it is made of stone, unlike the wooden communion tables of civilized Protestant churches, but that the faint carving on the front looks extremely worn.
  
  > look at the carving
  Although the carving is extremely faded, you can just discern the outline of a chalice of possibly ancient pattern. Although this is by no means an inappropriate symbol for an altar it strikes you as a little unusual; if anything, you might have expected a cross.
  
  > look at pews
  Clearly not designed for comfort, the pews are about as barely functional as plain wooden benches can be; about the one thing to be said in their favour is that it would be almost impossible to fall asleep on them however tedious the sermon.
  
  > look at the walls
  south wall: The south wall of the chapel is of rough, undressed
  stone.
  
  north wall: Like the other walls, the north wall is of
  undressed stone; a small open doorway in the wall leads north.
  
  east wall: The altar rests near the east wall; otherwise it is
  made of rough undressed stone, just like the others.
  
  west wall: Apart from the fact that the way back out to the
  street is set in the west wall, it is just like the other three: made of rough, unplastered stone.
  
  > Go north
  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.
  
  The priest is sitting working at his desk. He looks up at your entrance and remarks, "So – another sinner come to join my
  flock!"
  
  > look at the priest
  He is a thin, austere man, dressed in a long black cassock. A few wisps of white hair dangle about his scalp. Piercing dark eyes stare out either side of a nose that's as thin and sharp as a shark's
  fin,
  and there's something tight and mean about his mouth. He is sitting
  on the plain wooden chair.
  
  The priest is wearing a long black cassock.
  
  > talk to the priest
  You already have the priest's attention.
  
  (You could ask him about the blight, Mrs Pascoe, mad Meg, or himself, or tell him about yourself.)
  
  > ask him about the blight
  "What can you tell me about the blight?" you ask.
  
  "It's causing terrible hardship here," he replies. "Life here
  is hard
  enough for most people as it is. The loss of one of the island's two farms has been a terrible blow."
  
  > ask him about the chapel
  "Your chapel looks very ancient," you remark.
  
  "I think it must be," he agrees. "I have kept it just as I found
  it,
  since the islanders feel it should be preserved just as it always has been, and no one can remember a time before it was here."
  
  > ask him about the carving
  "That's an unusual carving on the front of your altar, isn't
  it?" you
  remark. "Some sort of chalice, isn't it? I'd have expected a
  cross."
  
  "So would I – if that," the priest concurs, "but then, the
  altar is
  very ancient, and the chalice is a symbol of Holy Communion."
  
  > ask him about Meg
  "Who is this mad Meg person?" you want to know.
  
  "She is a creature of hell, an evil witch, born out of wedlock and possessed by demons," the priest tells you, his eyes bulging with
  fury. "If the blight is not due to her witchcraft it is God's punishment for not putting her to death!"
  
  > ask him about himself
  "And you are...?" you ask.
  
  "Father Andrew," he tells you.
  
  > ask him about yourself
  "I don't propose to discuss that now," he replies stiffly.
  
  > tell him about yourself
  "By the way, I'm Lieutenant James Corby, Royal Navy," you
  introduce
  yourself.
  
  "So – a royalist," he remarks, with mild disapproval.
  
  > ask him about the royalists
  "Perhaps we can discuss that some other time," he suggests.
  
  > ask him about Duke
  "What do you make of Duke William?" you ask.
  
  "A proud man," Father Andrew sighs, "a thorough-going Norman aristocrat, more concerned with his rights as ruler than for the welfare of the people he rules."
  
  > ask him about the mist
  "Can you tell me about the sea-mist?" you request.
  
  "Maybe," he replies concomittally, "but not just at this
  minute." He
  glances meaningfully at his unfinished sermon.
  
  > ask him about the sermon
  "Is that your sermon for Sunday?" you ask.
  
  "That's right," he agrees, adding, "It still needs a lot of
  work; I
  believe in taking great care over my sermons."
  
  > ask him about Grail
  "I'd like to ask you about the Holy Grail," you say.
  
  "I daresay you would, but that doesn't mean I'd like to answer
  right
  now," he replies, glancing pointedly at his sermon.
  
  > ask him about Ridge
  "What do you think about the Ridge?" you ask.
  
  "Nothing I'd care to share with you just at this moment," he
  replies.
  
  > ask him about the god
  "How should God be worshipped?" you ask.
  
  "In spirit and in truth," he replies at once. "By repenting of
  our
  sins and trusting in his mercy."
  
  > Repent
  The story doesn't understand that command.
  
  > ask him about Julia
  "I take it you know Julia Trelawney?" you ask.
  
  "Of course; I know everyone on the island, and everyone on the island knows the Trelawneys," he replies. "She is not as careful for her immortal soul as I might wish, but she's a pleasant person, and one
  who always pulls her weight."
  
  > ask him about the key
  "Can I borrow that key, please?" you ask.
  
  "No," he replies. "What lies beyond that door is not for your
  eyes."
  
  > ask about the smuggling
  "I've heard there's some smuggling going on round here," you
  say.
  "Would you happen to know anything about that, Father Andrew?"
  
  "Smuggling, you say?" he replies. "I suppose some may call it
  that.
  Others might call it supplying the wants of the needy."
  
  > keep going
  "Don't you consider smuggling a sin, Father Andrew?" you ask.
  
  "I might if I considered it smuggling," he replies, "but maybe
  the sin
  rests with those who consider it so."
  
  > ask about smuggling
  "Are you saying you approve of smuggling?" you ask him.
  
  "I did not say that," he points out. "What I do say is that
  since the
  blight came most of my flock can barely keep body and soul together. Without what you call 'smuggling' there's many here who'd go
  under,
  and it's not just my flock's eternal welfare that concerns me –
  though
  it would be well for many of the sinners on the island to have longer to repent before they meet their maker!"
  
  > Continue
  "The Duke seems to think that there's some smuggling going on,"
  you
  point out.
  
  "So you've been talking to the Duke!" he declares. "It is only
  Duke
  William's avarice that makes him speak of 'smuggling', by which
  he
  means that someone somewhere has the temerity to import what the rest of us need without donating the lion's share to the castle coffers.
  Our Duke would store up treasure for himself here on earth while his subjects go hungry and naked. You may guess what his heavenly reward may be!"
  
  > ask about the smuggling
  "So you think that what the Duke calls 'smuggling' is simply the legitimate importation of goods that people here need," you surmise.
  
  "I do," Father Andrew nods. "I'm sure some luxuries are
  brought in
  too, but I don't begrudge my flock the occasional luxury – God
  knows
  their lives are hard enough."
  
  > Keep going
  "So do you know who is behind this – importation?" you ask.
  
  "I know many things that I may not repeat," he tells you. "That
  goes
  with being a priest."
  
  > Continue
  You seem to have exhausted this line of questioning for now. It's clear, if a little surprising, that Father Andrew approves of the so-called smuggling, and that he has little respect for the Duke's attempts to suppress it. In the priest's view, the "smugglers"
  are
  simply alleviating the material hardship of the islanders' lives. Father Andrew may well know who the smugglers are, but if so he's not saying.
  
  > read the sermon
  Reading the sermon reveals that while God is mentioned a few times, such concepts as love, joy and salvation don't get much of a mention.