Afternoon, Wednesday 10th April, 1906.As the sun begins its gentle descent towards its night time abode, the delighted
von Fersen walks with a light foot and a lighter heart, overjoyed to be so near to his splendid homeland.
“Yon inn!” he exclaims,
“Surely the grandest quaint inn in this fair village! Professor Blythington-Smythe must surely have stopped, or intended to stop here. We should inspect the premises! And also seek some lunch, one is feeling rather famished, one has to say. Onwards, my valiant comrades!”Head to the general store and purchase a bundle of candles and a sheet of paper. Then collect some twigs from a tree and use those to prop up a sign, dotted with candles at the edges, asking if anyone has seen Germans come by recently.
Bravely ignoring the burning pangs of hunger through the liberal application of his iron English Will,
Mr Wellington realises that four of the keenest minds available to His Majesty's government will probably be rather intimating to a simple innkeeper: he decides instead to follow a simpler approach.
He heads to the local store, and purchases many candles and some paper and, using some twigs fallen like so many flakes of dainty snow from a nearby tree, fashions a beautiful sign illuminated with candles and inscribed with
God’s the King’s own English, with which he intends to attract the natives.
And indeed many are attracted! Scores of simple Norwegian villagers flock to see the amazing new-fangled technology on display in their cherished but sadly old-fashioned village square! Dozens crowd round to warm their hands on the mass of stupefying flame, and many of them fall prey to Wellington’s dazzling charm.
“I say!” he asks, more than once.
“Have you seen any of those dastardly Germans about?”By Jove! They have! [5]
“A few weeks agø,” comes the most intelligible reply, from a passing woodsman,
“there was a suspicious looking Germån in town. I saw him on a Tuesdäy near the cemetery, talking to many Vikings. And I såw him on a Wednesday, with a large herd of Elk, sømewhere east of the town. And I saw him on a Thursdåy, talking to many Vikings by the døcks. And the last time I såw him, I saw him on a Friday, heading to the nørth east, on a pony. A small pøny.”Ask for medical attention from the butlers.
Wellington’s fellow spy,
Henry McGeenyton, has had enough of fighting off the shackles of this all too frail human form. He is bleeding! His every attempt at seeking aid thus far thwarted, he decides a direct order to the butlers who claim to serve him is called for whilst there is no tea to distract them from their duty.
“Jenkins! Smythe? I’ve just noticed,” he lies nonchalantly,
“that I appear to be bleeding profusely. I don’t mean to be a bore, but do you think you could attend to it? I only mention it as I’m a little concerned for my suit, it’s going to be a terrible bother to clean later. I don’t suppose you have some kind of medical knowledge?”Smythe’s face turns noticeably dark at the implied insult before he regains his composure and recalls his vocation in life.
“Why sir, I’m a trained butler! I have a considerable quantity of medical knowledge! As any man doth knowe, the English butler is at the forefront of medical development! Here, pray take a seat…”Within minutes McGeenyton is stripped to his underwear in the village square, all his ailments attended to. He feels nearly as good as new! [5]
Suggest that we find the village's local Quaint Inn, whereupin we should see if he had a room where we could find clues about his doings here. And possibly have some lunch afterwards.
Two of his colleagues otherwise engaged,
von Fersen heads onwards into the depths of the village inn, accompanied by
Mr Smith. As he enters, several bearded Norwegians stop drinking their ale and turn to look over the newcomers.
Von Fersen suddenly feels very Swedish.
“My good man!” he begins nevertheless, addressing the innkeeper who stands behind the bar, polishing a tankard.
“I was hoping I could order some lunch? And some ale for me and my companion.”“I say,” interrupts the lightly bleeding Smith,
“Could I have some lunch as well?” he adds, before turning to von Fersen.
“Don’t they have any tea?” he whispers, with a perturbed look.
“I imagine so,” replies von Fersen.
“They’re Norwegians, Smith, not savages. However, I rather think it would be best to fit in first, in a friendly fashion, the better to question the fellow. Besides, ale is rather English, it should suffice. I say,” he says, as the innkeeper pulls,
“I don’t suppose you had an Englishman stay here recently? A rather distinguished looking chap, good moustache. Covered in tweed.”“Ah! The good prøfessor! Yes, we did, just a few weeks ago – he was meant to be on his way to meet å friend, he said. I’ve been a little worried about him, he was a lovely chap, very polite. He liked to hike øut in the mornings to view the fjords – he was terribly keen on parrots, you see – and one mørning he never came back. But alas, we have no police force here, and our sheriff also recently disappeared in a terrible äccident. There are rumours of Vikings roåming the hills to the east once more, and of the Elks getting restless! There has even been a passing Germän. ‘Tis a bad time indeed.”“Aha!” exclaims von Fersen,
“My companion and I have been sent by His Majesty the King of England himself to seek out the good professor! Would it be possible to inspect his room before we eat?” [5]
Follow von Fersen, dabbing manly at my ear along the way to stop the bleeding.
Let von Fersen order first, then order what he ordered.
Mr Smith follows his fellow gentleman
von Fersen into the quaint local inn, dabbing uselessly at his ear as he goes, from whence flows a manly trickle of crimson blood. Although a passing fair Norwegian lady swoons upon seeing the stupendous American, his ear continues to lightly bleed. [3]
Smith is wise in the ways of the world and knows how to deal with foreigners in this particular type of scenario. He lets his foreign friend deal with them in his stead!
Upon entering the inn he lets von Fersen speak, interrupting only to also ask for lunch and whisper his lack of comprehension of the strange land in which he finds himself.
… … … … … …
After some quite informative questioning,
Smith and the Swede are led to one of the rooms on the first floor.
“Here,” explains the innkeeper,
“Slept the good professør! I have kept his room as it was, yearning for his return. We tend nøt to have a great deal of business at this time of the year, even if we did have quite a few merchänts recently. And that accursed German!”Smith and von Fersen look about the room. It is clear that Professor Blythington-Smythe intended to return. Most of his belongings are still as he must have left them. On his bedside table is a small map of the area. Various local fjords are circled. All but one, to the north, is crossed through.
… … … … … …
After this quick inspection of the room,
Smith and von Fersen descend.
Lunch arrives!
The buxom serving lady places a great deal of platters before the handsome young Swede: plate upon plate of Elk steak, smoked salmon, fermented trout, mountains of meatballs and oceans of cod. Much mead and dark ruby ale is brought forth!
Finally, Mr Smith is also served. His bread looks very nutritious!
… … … … … …
Later that afternoon, as the gentlemen regroup in the village square, they share their findings.
A German was last seen heading to the north east! There are rumours of Vikings roaming the hills to the east! The sheriff has gone missing! The professor was apparently last heading north! The Elks are getting restless!… … … … … …
Item Acquired! Mr McGeenyton: The Devoted Service of a Pair of English Butlers! (three turns remaining)
Item Acquired! Mr McGeenyton: A Promise to Acquire Two New Suits! (eighteen turns remaining)
State Acquired! Mr Smith: Tea-powered Super Manliness! (nine turns remaining)
Current Gentlemen
Player: areyoua
Name: Winston Smith, American
BioStatus: In Hammerfest.
Inventory: A Walking
Bat Stick Capable of Serious Bodily Harm, an Umbrella, a Fine German Sword,
Masterwork Top Hat,
Mysterious Ancient Bagpipes, French-English Dictionary, Smashing Coat (extra warm).
Wounds: [HP:97/100] |
Light Bleeding!
Skills: We Carry Large Sticks, Knowledge of the English Gentleman, Walking Bat Stick Deflection, A little more expertise in the art of walking bat stick deflection, Baseball Cricket Fatality!, We Never Lost a War! (yet), Fallible Pedant!, Fatally Bad Doctor!, Not a Zoologist!, Prone to Embarassing Sartorial Malfunction!
Gentlemanliness: 9.
Caddishness: 4. Player: _DivideByZero_
Name: William Wellington, Gentleman
BioStatus: In Hammerfest, beloved of the locals.
Inventory: Two Fine Dueling Pistols, Stone Throwing Discs.
Wounds: [HP:100/100]Skills: A Quite Talented Salesman,
Natural Born Top Hat Wearer,
Top Hat Black Belt,
Airship Pilotage,
Top Hat Acquisition,
Extraordinarily Convincing.
Gentlemanliness: 11.
Caddishness: 0.
Player: Geen
Name: Henry McGeenyton, Gentleman
BioStatus: Feeling better in Hammerfest.
Inventory: Monocle, Double Barreled Walking Stick With Tartan Trim, Grappling Hook Wristwatch, Tin of Loose Tea Leaves, The Devoted Service of a Pair of English Butlers! (five turns remaining), A Promise to Acquire Two New Suits! (twenty turns remaining).
Wounds: [HP:73/100] |
Fractured Left Lower Leg! | Heavy Bleeding! | Further Light Bleeding! | Fractured Pelvis!
Skills: Graceful combat, Monocles, Refined Accent, Particularly Calm, Tedious Oratory!
Gentlemanliness: 13.
Caddishness: 3. Player: scriver
Name: Sir August von Fersen, Noble Young Swede
BioStatus: In Hammerfest.
Inventory: Umbrella-Sword, Copy of Gentleman Hunter’s Weekly, Fine Hunting Rifle,
Masterwork Gold Eye Patch, Finely Crafted Pipe, a Magnum Revolver, Exquisitely Crafted Letter of Apology, Forster's Norwegian-Swedish Dictionary (24/24).
Wounds: [HP:97/100] |
Left Eye Blown Clean Off |
Light Bleeding!
Skills: Enthusiastic Hunter, Well-Versed with Pipes, Tremendous Orator, Masterful Pipe Holding, Fleetfooted Tenacity of the Swedish Elk, It Runs in the Family, Knowledge of the Elk, a Modicum of Knowledge in the Area of Medicine, Published Poet, Dangerous Misfires.
Gentlemanliness: 16.
Caddishness: 2.
Author
Topic: Roll to Be a Gentleman Spy - Chapter Three Part Twenty One. (Read 74795 times)