Upon entering the town of Crooked Shank, I was greeted by the mayor who apologized for the disarray in his town due to a storm. I saw no evidence of a storm and he quickly moved on to ask if I might be able to offer aid. He was a keen observer of my adventuring prowess and ability to locate trinkets of value.
Byron proceeded to explain, with some embarrassment, the loss of his house key. This was due to a wild night of frolic that started at the local tavern and concluded with a raucous round of dance with the ladies.
“Fear not my good fellow, at least you got away with your leggings in tact,” I assured.
“You take care now, I shall return directly with your wayward key.”
My first stop, as with all new towns, was the local tavern. This brought me to the town drunk, the only one not talking about the aftermath of some storm. He was far more concerned about the loss of an entire town.
“I can’t say that I have ever lost a town at the bottom of a tankard, but that doesn’t mean it can’t be done,” I said cheerly, moving on to the pavilion.
There I found the minstrel in mid tune and amidst the twirls, sashays and toe tapping, I asked if any had laid eyes on the mayor’s key.
There was many a giggle and blush. The mayor is known for his dancing and his love of the wine. He is also known for his misuse of the pavilion hedges and town fountain.
While listening to these terrible tales, my eyes set upon the missing key. As I set to return it to the mayor, I became powerless to a mischievous urge.
Using the breaking and entering skills Blake and I honed on the streets of Ardoris, I entered the mayor’s domicile unobserved. I was in admiration of his fine decorating style, especially his golden goblets, of which I now have a matching set.
My admiration turned sour as I entered his office and noted the myriad of skulls on his bookshelf. These were clear signs of a nefarious purveyor of ill deeds and miscreant behavior.
“If this is what you have out in the open, I wonder what you have secreted away?” I mused.
This lead me to scour and loot the remainder of his quarters.
While pilfering his upstairs game room, I heard a muffled cry coming from a concealed chamber. To my dismay, I uncovered a woman and her companion being held captive. While this sort of deviant behavior may be tolerated in Ardoris, I frown upon it all the same.
I did my best to free the poor mistress, but she was in the grip of terror. I checked her companion, but it was too late. I removed the tightly held key and asked why they didn’t escape if they already had the key.
“Find the prison,” she mumbled. “Go to the caves.” She sobbed and crumpled herself into the corner.
“Prison? Caves?” I asked. But she would speak no more.
That town drunk and I need to have another chat about the mayor.
Good evening! Pity I left my dancing shoes at home. I hate to be a bother have you seen a key lying about?
Holy Halmar’s Teeth! What is the meaning of this?
Oh, sinister deeds are indeed afoot…
Secret door. Iron bars. You have explaining to do Mr. Naughty Pantaloons…
More brilliant musings about my adventures in New Britannia
- Some parting shots for Release 6
- The House on the Hill – Part I – The Call for Justice
- An ill wind blew in Braemar
- What manner of conveyance is this I see before me?
- Hello little gremlin!
- Traveling the Path of Courage – until the sidewalk ended
- The Great Hot Air Balloon Prison Break
- Falling into the Understorm Mine
- Conjuring Woody, the tamable Chest Mimic to help me take a bite out of the Thugs of wherever the heck I am
- Fleecing the Obsidian Robe