The Town
I woke with easily the most dreadful head-ache I have ever experienced, and a lump upon the back of my head which prevented me from laying my head comfortably even upon my well-stuffed straw pillow. After half an hour of general achiness and discomfort, I grudgingly arose from the warm straw to the smell of fish and camphor once again. A tempting aroma of frizzling kipper wafted towards me, and I stood to my feet in grateful anticipation of my first meal in what seemed to be a very long time, if the painful dent of hunger in my stomach served as any indication. My host stood in his loose pyjamas, which were unreasonably soiled for bedclothes, his dull eyes taken by looking with unnecessary closeness at a cast-iron pan containing two sizzling kippers.
Many silent minutes later, he slipped the kippers onto two tin plates, and set one before me, taking the other for himself and sitting upon one of the rickety chairs. I joined him at the table, and observed as he picked at the flesh of the kipper with his filthy nails. I ate as well, attempting to be as neat as possible with my bare hands, and found myself much revitalised by the smoke-flavoured meat. Seeing my satisfied look, my host grinned a nearly-toothless grin, and said something in his gutteral Germanesque tongue, which I almost barely recognised as "eat good", though the similarities were rough at best. I nodded and smiled, and he seemed pleased with my response.
I decided I was needful of a way to return home, and so, with much slow speaking and convoluted hand-gestures, I conveyed the idea of a carriage and a township where I could may-haps a vessel to embark upon. After much misunderstanding, I was led out behind the shed, where two ill-looking horses eyed me suspiciously. My host bit and bridled the healthier of the two, and pointed me westerly, whereupon he walked away with a brief smile, and a gutteral grunt of what I recognised as a wishing of good fortune. Taken aback by his poignant brevity, it was a while before I stopped my cogitation to clamber upon my horse and ride on.
The woods were strange, unlike any I had experienced before: the trees were thick and twisted, and tightly wound with vicious dark brambles, from which the sound of vile chitinous insects screeched. A thousand keens of crows sounded as I progressed deeper into the woods, but the echoes and reverberations were such that I could not find their sources in the thick brush. It seemed as if the forest was alive with the cacophony of fluttering wings and screeching, but the birds themselves remained ever invisible. The noise grew louder and louder still, until, most suddenly, a deep and echoing crow-call, many times louder than I had ever heard, cut through the air and the rest fell utterly silent. Even the insects in the underbrush grew silent, and all I heard was the rustle of leaves and the uneven clop of my mount's hooves; I had felt his muscles tense between my legs, and his eyes were rolling about, whites showing with apprehension.
For hours I rode on, the sunlight a faint trickling milky-white under the thick canopy of gnarled black trees. Several times, the crows returned in their multitudes, and were not silenced again by that singular keen I had heard the first time around. A shiver still went through me thinking about it, and just as I was having doubts about a possible trap my host had sent me into, the forest thinned and I saw the silhouettes of buildings upon the horizon. At last, true civilization! Finally, to discover what strange land I had ended up in.
The town was like no town I had visited; it was almost like the woods in its twisted peculiarity. Buildings of brick and wood rose high, strangely tall and thin, almost delicate. Upon the top stories, which at times were set at odd angles to the foundations, beams and daubing seemed popular, topped with thatching or tile as the case may be. I saw no faces in windows, despite the loudness of my horse's hooves upon the uneven green cobblestones. I rode up to the first structure I saw putting out chimney-smoke, and saw the familiar hanging wooden sign of a public house before its door.
The sign bore a crow, which wrestled in turn with a serpent in its left talons, and an exuberantly foaming tankard of ale in its right talons. Bemused by the sign, I opened the black wooden door.
Within, it was a standard public house, barring the unusual heraldry which adorned the walls, and the paintings of unfamiliar royalty which sat nestled within gaudy darkwood frames. The pubmaster, a man with sideburns of similar length to my previous host, albeit more well-kempt, rose to his feet from a great knotted-wood table, and spoke in that gutteral Germanesque tongue I had before heard, but with a clarity that allowed me to almost glean the meaning from the German I knew. From hence, I shall attempt to state what is said to me by various persons, though I am sadly unsure as to whether or not I was entirely accurate.
"Who are you?" enquired the pubmaster. Apparently visitors were unusual here. In my best German, briefly ran down my story so far, and told him of the man who sent me. He laughed uproariously. "First day in fair town, you meet Grimy(?) Grolsch!" He seemed most amused by the situation, and offered me a drink. Not wanting to be rude, I accepted. To my chagrin, he pulled out a bottle of the green liquid I had been offered the night before. He poured a glass for me, put it in front of me, and then bent back over the bar. I tried a sip.
A disgusting, thick sweetness assaulted my senses; I could barely comprehend the flavours to which I was being forcefully introduced, but I gathered it to be a sickeningly saccharine mixture of mint and anise, with the consistency of a thin syrup. After I managed to swallow it, I shouted with horrified surprise. The pubmaster came back up with a start, and, seeing my disgust, laughed uproariously. "Never had [aniswasser] before?" Upon the bar, he set a filigreed silver slotted spoon holding a lump of salt, and a bottle of water.
I was momentarily confused, so the pubmaster took it upon himself to show me; the salt in the spoon was held above the beverage, and the water drizzled over the lump, whereupon the salt dissolved into the water, entered into the drink, and supposedly served in some part to reduce the sickly sweetness of the beverage, and impart a thinner quality to the drink. I again sampled the drink and, though much improved over my previous experience, I found the odd mixture of sweet and salty to be most uncomfortable upon my palate.
I inquired, then, as to the variety of whiskies and Scotches they had to serve. Though he seemed to basically understand what I was conveying, he said that whiskeys of that variety were unpopular in urban areas, and furthermore he had never heard of "Scotch" and was unsure as to its nature. Though loathe to part with my prized Scotch, I pulled my flagon from out my satchel, and sampled some to him. He took a sip, and seemed momentarily offended, but braved it again, and, holding it within his mouth, ran a gamut of expressions most amusing. He concluded, I believe from the context and his expression, that it was "not bad, but not entirely good either." We laughed to-gether, and I felt comfortable enough with him then that I inquired as to ports of departure in the area.
My pubmaster comrade, who now introduced himself as Ewald, told me that not much commerce happened by sea, as the ring of standing stones I had passed through stretched about the entire coast; he did say that he knew a fellow who was, from what I gathered, some sort of constable or military, who was to transfer to the main capital of the region, and made note that he could arrange transport alongside the man. From there, I would find an alternative method of transport which would, for the right fee, take me to someplace from whence I could return home by vessel. I readily agreed to his terms and, sharing several more beverages, made myself quite well-filled and needful of bed once again.
Many silent minutes later, he slipped the kippers onto two tin plates, and set one before me, taking the other for himself and sitting upon one of the rickety chairs. I joined him at the table, and observed as he picked at the flesh of the kipper with his filthy nails. I ate as well, attempting to be as neat as possible with my bare hands, and found myself much revitalised by the smoke-flavoured meat. Seeing my satisfied look, my host grinned a nearly-toothless grin, and said something in his gutteral Germanesque tongue, which I almost barely recognised as "eat good", though the similarities were rough at best. I nodded and smiled, and he seemed pleased with my response.
I decided I was needful of a way to return home, and so, with much slow speaking and convoluted hand-gestures, I conveyed the idea of a carriage and a township where I could may-haps a vessel to embark upon. After much misunderstanding, I was led out behind the shed, where two ill-looking horses eyed me suspiciously. My host bit and bridled the healthier of the two, and pointed me westerly, whereupon he walked away with a brief smile, and a gutteral grunt of what I recognised as a wishing of good fortune. Taken aback by his poignant brevity, it was a while before I stopped my cogitation to clamber upon my horse and ride on.
The woods were strange, unlike any I had experienced before: the trees were thick and twisted, and tightly wound with vicious dark brambles, from which the sound of vile chitinous insects screeched. A thousand keens of crows sounded as I progressed deeper into the woods, but the echoes and reverberations were such that I could not find their sources in the thick brush. It seemed as if the forest was alive with the cacophony of fluttering wings and screeching, but the birds themselves remained ever invisible. The noise grew louder and louder still, until, most suddenly, a deep and echoing crow-call, many times louder than I had ever heard, cut through the air and the rest fell utterly silent. Even the insects in the underbrush grew silent, and all I heard was the rustle of leaves and the uneven clop of my mount's hooves; I had felt his muscles tense between my legs, and his eyes were rolling about, whites showing with apprehension.
For hours I rode on, the sunlight a faint trickling milky-white under the thick canopy of gnarled black trees. Several times, the crows returned in their multitudes, and were not silenced again by that singular keen I had heard the first time around. A shiver still went through me thinking about it, and just as I was having doubts about a possible trap my host had sent me into, the forest thinned and I saw the silhouettes of buildings upon the horizon. At last, true civilization! Finally, to discover what strange land I had ended up in.
The town was like no town I had visited; it was almost like the woods in its twisted peculiarity. Buildings of brick and wood rose high, strangely tall and thin, almost delicate. Upon the top stories, which at times were set at odd angles to the foundations, beams and daubing seemed popular, topped with thatching or tile as the case may be. I saw no faces in windows, despite the loudness of my horse's hooves upon the uneven green cobblestones. I rode up to the first structure I saw putting out chimney-smoke, and saw the familiar hanging wooden sign of a public house before its door.
The sign bore a crow, which wrestled in turn with a serpent in its left talons, and an exuberantly foaming tankard of ale in its right talons. Bemused by the sign, I opened the black wooden door.
Within, it was a standard public house, barring the unusual heraldry which adorned the walls, and the paintings of unfamiliar royalty which sat nestled within gaudy darkwood frames. The pubmaster, a man with sideburns of similar length to my previous host, albeit more well-kempt, rose to his feet from a great knotted-wood table, and spoke in that gutteral Germanesque tongue I had before heard, but with a clarity that allowed me to almost glean the meaning from the German I knew. From hence, I shall attempt to state what is said to me by various persons, though I am sadly unsure as to whether or not I was entirely accurate.
"Who are you?" enquired the pubmaster. Apparently visitors were unusual here. In my best German, briefly ran down my story so far, and told him of the man who sent me. He laughed uproariously. "First day in fair town, you meet Grimy(?) Grolsch!" He seemed most amused by the situation, and offered me a drink. Not wanting to be rude, I accepted. To my chagrin, he pulled out a bottle of the green liquid I had been offered the night before. He poured a glass for me, put it in front of me, and then bent back over the bar. I tried a sip.
A disgusting, thick sweetness assaulted my senses; I could barely comprehend the flavours to which I was being forcefully introduced, but I gathered it to be a sickeningly saccharine mixture of mint and anise, with the consistency of a thin syrup. After I managed to swallow it, I shouted with horrified surprise. The pubmaster came back up with a start, and, seeing my disgust, laughed uproariously. "Never had [aniswasser] before?" Upon the bar, he set a filigreed silver slotted spoon holding a lump of salt, and a bottle of water.
I was momentarily confused, so the pubmaster took it upon himself to show me; the salt in the spoon was held above the beverage, and the water drizzled over the lump, whereupon the salt dissolved into the water, entered into the drink, and supposedly served in some part to reduce the sickly sweetness of the beverage, and impart a thinner quality to the drink. I again sampled the drink and, though much improved over my previous experience, I found the odd mixture of sweet and salty to be most uncomfortable upon my palate.
I inquired, then, as to the variety of whiskies and Scotches they had to serve. Though he seemed to basically understand what I was conveying, he said that whiskeys of that variety were unpopular in urban areas, and furthermore he had never heard of "Scotch" and was unsure as to its nature. Though loathe to part with my prized Scotch, I pulled my flagon from out my satchel, and sampled some to him. He took a sip, and seemed momentarily offended, but braved it again, and, holding it within his mouth, ran a gamut of expressions most amusing. He concluded, I believe from the context and his expression, that it was "not bad, but not entirely good either." We laughed to-gether, and I felt comfortable enough with him then that I inquired as to ports of departure in the area.
My pubmaster comrade, who now introduced himself as Ewald, told me that not much commerce happened by sea, as the ring of standing stones I had passed through stretched about the entire coast; he did say that he knew a fellow who was, from what I gathered, some sort of constable or military, who was to transfer to the main capital of the region, and made note that he could arrange transport alongside the man. From there, I would find an alternative method of transport which would, for the right fee, take me to someplace from whence I could return home by vessel. I readily agreed to his terms and, sharing several more beverages, made myself quite well-filled and needful of bed once again.