Deciding there didn’t seem to be much in the way of options, Avery started to walk towards the east, the direction that Armood had told him to travel and find civilisation. The sun was heading towards the high point so it must be approaching noon but it wasn’t too hot and the walk was an easy one. At least my clothes have dried out, Avery thought as he walked.
Until he tripped over a rock. Stumbling to the ground, he looked back, baffled. There hadn’t been a rock there a second ago! Certainly not one that was sticking three inches out of the ground.
He stood up, brushed the sand off his clothes and started walking again. Maybe I’m a little off balance after the shipwreck, he thought as he walked and quickly convinced himself that’s what was going on.
Avery approached a gentle stream and went to step through. Suddenly there was a gush of water that hit one leg as the other was raised to step. Again, he found himself on the ground and now he was wet again!
He stood for the second time and noticed a chicken egg sitting on a small pile of sand just ahead of him. He mentally shrugged, thinking there must be a lot of chickens wandering around this island if they just laid their eggs anywhere.
He walked for another ten minutes without incident. Just as he was convincing himself that his ‘dizziness’ was wearing off, he stepped on an area of sand and his leg disappeared into ankle-deep sand. He pitched forward, balance gone once more, but managed to roll a little and pull his foot loose as he did.
Now Avery was getting a bit concerned. Had he hit his head harder than he thought when the ship was being wrecked? But then, that didn’t explain managing to hit a sudden wave in an almost-dry stream or find the only patch of quicksand in the whole area.
Standing for the third time, he looked around. Sure enough, there was a chicken egg sitting on a small pile of sticks in front of him. In fact, he thought, it was the same damned egg, he was certain of it.
Then something dawned on him. The quests that Armood had given him: find the old man with the stick, keep a map of where he went and look after a chicken egg.
This egg?
He walked over to where the egg was sitting. If it was possible, there was something a little smug about the thing. Then he berated himself for stupid talk - it was a chicken egg!
He picked up the egg and tossed it in the air, catching it with one hand. He examined it for a moment then decided to slip it into the pocket of his trousers until he could find something a little stronger to put it in.
Avery resumed walking towards the town, suddenly able to avoid obstacles, keep dry and dodge obvious patches of quicksand.
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Just before the sun reached its peak, Avery found himself on a slight hill overlooking the town. Well, a large village with a port area was probably a more accurate description. It reminded him of many places he’d visited over the years - a few well-built buildings that probably dated from when it was founded, then lots of slightly ramshackle buildings spreading out from the original area.
But there was nothing unusual about the place that he could see so Avery decided to first try to find somewhere to eat and sleep then find out a little about the place. After that, he would search for the old man with the stick.
It all seemed pretty straightforward until he reached the edge of the town and hailed one of the men working a field on the edge.
“Hi there,” he called, waving to the guy. “I’m new in town and wondered where I could get something to eat and a room?”
The guy waved back and said something but Avery didn’t catch it all. He walked closer and the man said something else.
Then Avery realised the problem. He didn’t know this language and only around one-quarter of the words were vaguely familiar. Armood had dumped him in a place where he had no ability to speak to the locals!
The man was still chattering away, waving his hands in different directions. Avery decided to try another tact and held up his hand to catch the man’s attention. He then mimicked eating and sleeping and did an open-handed gesture to show he was unsure.
Another bout of excited chattering followed but the man now pointed towards the middle of the town and seemed to realise that Avery couldn’t understand him. He held up three fingers and gestured to his right.
“Three blocks in, turn right? Avery guessed.
The man clearly had a better ability to understand Avery’s language than he did to speak it as he nodded. He then gestured another two and right again.
“Two blocks then on the right,” Avery confirmed. “Okay, thanks!”
He headed into the town and followed the directions the man had provided. He found himself standing in front of a wooden building with a sign hanging on it. It held a faded picture of a goose that appeared to be holding a mug of ale and looked a bit wobbly. Even without being able to read the words, Avery guessed the place was called The Drunken Goose or something very similar.
He walked inside, allowing a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkened interior. He saw a fairly standard-looking tavern with a bar against the back wall, booths around the edges of the room and some tables spread unevenly around the middle of the room. There were already a few people sitting around, mostly drinking although one couple was eating some stew.
He was about to approach the bar when he sensed eyes on him and turned slightly to his left. In a booth, looking smug and satisfied with himself, was Armood.
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Avery stormed over to the table. “You dumped me somewhere I don’t speak the damn language!” he said immediately.
Armood grinned. “I forgot about that,” he admitted with a shrug. “Hang on a moment.” He clicked his fingers and Avery felt as if his ears popped with a change of altitude, while still standing in the tavern.
After a second, his hearing was restored and he realised he could hear the conversation of the couple eating stew. And could understand what they were saying - although it wasn’t exactly a recommendation of the food in the place.
“Sit down, my friend!” Armood said, gesturing to the seat opposite. He then waved towards the serving girl who was near the bar, chatting to the barkeepers. He held up two hands and she nodded.
Avery sat down, suddenly feeling like he’d had a very tiring day even though it was just noon. “Thanks, I think.”
Armood shrugged. “Simple enough thing, to give you the ability to understand their language. Actually, it probably covers almost any language, thinking about it. But you probably won’t need to use it much. Anyway, you got here!”
“Hence I’m sitting opposite you,” Avery replied flatly. “And I have your damned egg as well.”
Armood’s grin turned a little cheeky. “Didn’t cause you any problems, did it?” he asked with feigned innocence.
“Not at all,” Avery lied, determined not to give Armood the satisfaction.
“Excellent!” he replied.
“Where do I find this man with the stick I’m looking for?”
The serving girl brought them two pints of ale and placed them on the table. “Two portions of stew for myself and my friend please,” Armood said to her.
She nodded and headed off. “Not sure the stew is up to much,” Avery observed quietly.
“There’s not what you’d call a menu here,” Armood replied. “It’s basically stew, stew with bread or bread with stew. And I’m guessing you are hungry?”
Avery nodded. “Yeah, I am.”
“Then tuck in and enjoy!” Armood said grandly, gesturing at the bowls of steaming food that the girl had brought to the table. He handed her some gold and she left with a smile.
The two ate their stew and drank their ale in silence. Once they were finished, the girl removed the bowls and Armood ordered two refills.
“Tell me about this man with the stick,” Avery repeated.
“He’s an old man, grey hair. About the same height you are. The stick is a little taller than he is and there are carvings on the lower half. He’s usually down by the quayside,” Armood replied.
“What’s his name?” Avery asked.
“I have no idea!” Armood replied. “I don’t really care. I need that stick and I need you to get it for me. Simple.”
“I don’t want to hurt the guy if I can help it,” Avery warned.
Armood shrugged. “You are a strong guy, you can just wrestle it from him and make a run for it. Or something, I don’t really care.”
“And what do I do when I have this stick?” Avery queried.
“There’s a place just outside of town called Dog Rock. Bring it there and we can deal with the next step in the plan,” came the reply.
Avery frowned. “Any more directions for this rock?”
Armood waved his hand. “Ask people! That’s what I gave you the language ability for. Show some initiative!”
“Okay, I’m going to get some rest this afternoon and head down to the quayside this evening, see if I can find this guy,” Avery said, standing. “Any idea where I can get a room around here?”
He was about to turn back to Armood when there was a sensation of movement and the strange feeling of moving through water that he’d experienced since entering the bar vanished. At the same time, a puddle of water gushed onto his feet, wetting them for the third time that morning.
Armood was nowhere in sight. Nor was any gold to pay for the food and drink. “What the nine hells?” Avery cursed and walked across to the bar to ask the barkeeper where he could sleep.
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Turns out, there wasn’t much in the way of places to stay in the town. Or any, really. However, the barkeeper said they were happy to let people pay a little sliver for the option to sleep in one of the booths along with some breakfast. It wasn’t the first time that Avery had slept in a barroom so he wasn’t too worried.
He grabbed a couple of hours of sleep in one of the quieter corners of the bar and woke up as the place started to get busy for the evening rush. He grabbed another bowl of stew with some bread and asked the best way to get to the quayside.
Following the directions the barkeeper gave him, Avery found himself at the quayside after just a short walk. It also illustrated that this was a pretty small town and helped him decide that he didn’t want to just grab the stick from the old man and run for it. He needed to eat and sleep here so something a little more subtle was required.
He walked along the quayside, studying the boats that were moored. Most of them were small fishing boats with one that looked like a military ship that had seen better times, probably used to deal with pirates that got too close to the town.
There didn’t seem to be any guard presence as was often the case for smaller towns. The bigger towns would have guards patrolling the area but in places like this, there were probably only a couple of guards looking after the whole town. But Avery still wanted to avoid a run-in with them for now.
He spotted the old man after about half an hour on the quayside. He was noticeable because of the stick he was carrying which was about a head taller than he was and elaborately carved on the lower half. The upper half was plain and this gave Avery an idea about switching it.
He crossed to a store selling a wide range of equipment and spotted a stick of the same height as the one the man carried. He also bought a length of white material. He used a little of the gold that Armood had provided him with to buy these items and headed down to the quayside.
The sun was starting to set and the light wasn’t as bright as earlier in the day. Holding the stick in his hand, he approached the old man. Just as he reached him, he purposefully stumbled and collided with him.
“I’m so sorry!” Avery said, reaching out to grab the old man’s arm and steady him. “I’m so clumsy.”
The old man grunted and Avery confirmed he was blind as he had milky white cataracts across his eyes that stopped almost all sight. “Watch where you are going!” the old man snapped.
Avery purposefully wobbled a little, grabbed the old man’s stick and pulled it away from him. The man reached out to try and grab it but his grip was weak - Avery pulled it away from him. He let it fall to the floor with a clatter and apologised again, swapping the stick he had just bought from his other hand into the one nearest the old man.
“Here you go,” he said, handing the plain stick to the old man. “I’m so sorry again, I’ve been at sea for weeks and guess I’ve lost my land legs a bit.”
The old man gripped the stick and seemed unaware of the switch. “Just watch yourself better in the future,” he scolded and moved away from Avery.
Watching him go, Avery picked up the carved stick. He quickly wrapped the white material around the bottom of the stick, hiding the noticeable carvings. Then he headed off in the opposite direction as the old man, adding a purposeful wobble to his step in case anyone was watching.
Once he was away from the quayside, he unwrapped the stick and looked in shock. He was holding the plain stick he had just bought from the store. The switch hadn’t worked and the old man still had the carved stick.