The Gaming Outpost

Harry is returning to pick up his game with me where we left it in Harry’s Game, when he versed out from a collapsing wall in a fire.

Surrounded by flame, you struggle unsuccessfully to rise; where the flames lick your face above your mask, you feel the chill. The floor beneath bites with its hardness and chill, and you hear the rush of air and the banging of–of something, maybe cannons or rifles, or maybe exploding wine bottles in the kitchen.

–M. J. Young

You dig your face into the cold, solid, hard flames below you. It’s gradually penetrating your mind that the fire should be hot, and instead you’re a bit chilled.

–M. J. Young

Having recognized the incongruity of cold fire, you pull yourself from your semiconscious dream state and realize that you are pressed on the stone floor of a high-ceilinged stone room. There is something that sounds like a window shutter banging. You have a sense of your equipment in a particular direction, and in the same direction another sense, one that is similar to but different from both your equipment sense and the sense you had of other versers back on the tropical island. You might think that it feels like a person who belongs to you.

–M. J. Young

You appear to be sitting in the front hall of a large building; this part, at least, is made of stone, with heavy wooden doors not secured at the moment but closed, and a couple of narrow windows one of which has an outside shutter flapping in the wind. The wall is about a foot or so thick at the window, but you could bend out and grasp the shutter and close it if you were standing by it.

You are dressed in the clothes you were wearing to fight the fire, including the sailcloth and burlap mask over your nose and mouth.

–M. J. Young

Looking out the window, you see a less than well-kept but green lawn on a rather steep slope, probably a mountainside, with a dirt drive doing switchbacks down the slope toward what appears to be a village perhaps a mile or two below. It is a defensible but not unassailable fortress, if it is a fortress, and the heavy doors with the bar (set to one side at present) and the thick walls and heavy shutters suggest that it might be something of a fortress, at least a castle or tower or part of a wall.

“Oh,” a man’s voice suddenly says behind you. “I didn’t hear you enter. I am surprised–Barrick said he would send someone, but he’s often unreliable, please don’t tell him I said that as I do sometimes have to rely on him anyway. I was, though, expecting a couple? Or do you cook and clean as well as tend the premises and maintain the accounts?”

–M. J. Young

The man is probably in his mid to late fifties, with longish greying brown hair and a greying beard (gee, sounds a lot like me….it is not). He is dressed in a robe, not fancy nor colorful but a simple uncolored cloth variety with fur trim, and walking with a staff that has a fancy carved headpiece, reminiscent of a thirty-sided die (that is, like a sphere but with many small flat surfaces).

“Indeed,” he says, and continues with what is obviously a courtesy but not thereby insincere, “A pleasure, I am sure. I am Roderick Albusson. I can meet your wife at her leisure, although I do hope it will be by dinner–or are you the cook? No matter.

“I will pay each of you five silvers a week; you can if you like take it on individual days starting the third morning of your employment, or take it in lump sums on any schedule you wish, or keep it on account with me for safekeeping to draw as needed. I don’t mind if one of you wishes to collect it as long as the other agrees, and I don’t mind paying you separately, but I want the matter to be consistent so there is no confusion concerning who has and has not been paid. I have credit with the local merchants, so when they come to collect their bills it will be your responsibility (or hers, if your wife is the bookkeeper) to verify the amount owed, and I will supply it from my treasury at that time. I’m a bit difficult with meals, because my studies and practices do not easily accommodate any regularity of schedule, but as long as there is bread and cheese and mead available when I rise and something for dinner by late afternoon, I will accept the blame if it is cold by the time I get to it. It’s a large property to clean, but I don’t use most of it, so you’ll quickly learn what rooms need attending; I will clean the lab myself, and ask that you not put away books I leave out in the library but simply clean around them. The unused rooms need only be cleaned every few months to keep the dust and vermin under control. Also, I let the villagers graze sheep and goats on the lawns, so they don’t need much tending most of the time, as long as the flagstones are clean enough for pedestrians. You will have your own rooms, and really I’m not picky about that–if you’re willing to keep them clean, you can have several. There’s no point in cooking for me and for yourselves separately, so consider the food in the larder yours as well. Do you have children?”

I’m expecting you will say that you don’t.

“Well, then at least for the present that’s not an issue, but in future I certainly will make allowances but expect that they will not disrupt my work. Any questions so far?”

–M. J. Young

He raises an eyebrow at your suggestion that you might adopt, as if it is a familiar concept never mentioned. He doesn’t say anything about it.

“Well, I’m not much on formalities, but I suppose when there are guests in the castle you should probably address me as ‘My Lord’ and refer to me as “Lord Roderick” when speaking to them about me. Otherwise, ‘Roderick’ is fine, or ‘Sir’, if that’s easier for you.”

“The scheduling is entirely up to you, and if you need today to get settled I can scrounge my own dinner today and you can start tomorrow. And I certainly don’t mind if you both cook; that’s not my concern, only that the cooking and cleanup are done and the meal served or available when it is time.”

“Oh–I guess Barrick didn’t explain. I’ve been without any household staff since my housekeeper died late last autumn. You are the entire household staff. My bedchamber is in the same area as the library and the lab, and as I say the rest of the castle is vacant and you can use whatever rooms you find convenient for your use, within reason, of course. I never use more than three or four guest rooms, and generally have ample notice before that happens, so that shouldn’t be a problem. Feel free to explore, get familiar with the layout; I’m not doing much today so there’s no problem interrupting me with questions. That won’t always be the case, of course–sometimes my work can be delicate or difficult, requiring concentration, but I’ll find a way to alert you to those circumstances. I’ll also probably have to set up the bells so I can call for help if I need something, although really, I’ve gotten along reasonably well for over half a year without having to call for anything, so it should go fairly smoothly.

“Take your time, get your wife–Arabella, you say? And you are John. I’m not always good with names, forgive me if it takes me a few days to remember them. Explore, make yourselves comfortable, and we’ll start with meals tomorrow. You might check the larder, make sure that you have whatever you need to make meals, but there should be enough for at least a few days if it’s nothing fancy. If you need to purchase anything for tomorrow, or to go out tomorrow, check with me and I’ll give you a paper to show the merchants authorizing you to buy supplies on my account.

“Anything else?”

–M. J. Young

“Oh, didn’t he tell you? I’m a wizard. I hope that’s not a problem.”

He’ll leave at this point if you don’t stop him.

You’ll have no problem finding Arabella, who is sitting on the ground perhaps a mile (as far as home was from work) away. The land behind the castle is flat for that distance, and continues up the mountain perhaps half a mile beyond that; your possessions are scattered about as if they fell out of the house, along with hers. She looks a bit frightened, but brightens when she sees you.

“What happened?”

–M. J. Young