Travels Through An Imaginary Landscape

A stunned silence settled over the library in the wake of the malevolent yellow mist that was only broken when the sword of the unfortunate guard eventually slipped from his lifeless grasp and clattered to the floor. It was followed by a resounding thud as the body itself slumped to the floor, as though finally conceding that there was no longer any point in remaining upright. It was only then that the door was flung open and the Captain burst into the room, demanding to know, “Is everything alright? I thought I heard a cry.” Continue reading →

A tense silence settled over the library with the departure of Master Ferdinand and the Captain. Guillaume turned from staring morosely at the equipment on the tables to peering fearfully down at his bag of silver as though he expected someone to try and whip it away from him at any moment. I gazed listlessly along the shelves of books and tried to figure out just how it was that we always seemed to get ourselves tangled up in these dramas. Michael paced thoughtfully back and forth. It was he who finally broke the silence when he paused by the window, looked out and casually remarked, “It’s a thirty foot drop straight down into the moat, just in case anyone was wondering.” Continue reading →

The question of Master Ferdinand and his place in the grand scheme of things was one I was at least able to address directly with Guillaume soon after we left the inn. Trudging up the main street in the village it rapidly became apparent that the Captain and his two cohorts were not over-zealous in their work and, provided we made no attempt to stray beyond the boundaries of their custody, they paid us little heed and made no attempts to stifle conversation. So, having first tested the waters with a few innocuous remarks, I took the opportunity to grill Guillaume about what might await us at the end of our journey. Continue reading →

“We’re looking for a room,” I began.

“No rooms here,” swiftly retorted the inn-keeper. “We’ve got food and we’ve got ale but no rooms. Try at the sign of the White Hart by the bridge at the top of the village.”

“Ah no, I didn’t mean that kind of room,” I hastened to explain. “We’re looking for a particular room.” Continue reading →