Play@YSDC

Once the tea is done, Martin bids the group good night and lets them usher themselves to the door, preferring not to stand if he can avoid it.

The sun has gone down now, and the night air in Glendale is cool and damp, with a hint of fog off in the meadows. There are still a few villagers wandering here and there, and offering the visitors (you) smiles and friendly nods in passing. Getting directions to The Goat isn’t hard. It is the center of the town and very popular by the locals. People laughing, talking and singing can be heard from blocks away.

(Paul – look in your private messages.)

"I'm concerned about Martin," says Laurence softly. "I didn't want to say anything in front of him, but it sounds like he may be suffering from either Alzheimer's or Mad Cow Disease, which have similar symptoms."

Pet looks to Laurence when he expresses his concern. "Could just be old age. Seniors do tend to forget things more easily. It's obvious he's suffering from something or other, though, I agree with that. Same thing could be affecting his memory." She looks to The Goat, and runs a hand through her hair to make sure everything's in place before entering the local club scene.

With a waving gesture Paul wants to stop the party for a moment, because he has to take a closer look at something curious.
Catching eye-contact with Laurence, he expresses a strange kind of urgency.

Approaching the small alley where he saw "something", he says:
Excuse me Sir, may I ask you for light?

He produces a cigarette from under his jacket.

"Of course," says Laurence, playing along. He takes out a lighter and ignites it, holding out the flame for Paul.

As Paul looks back to and speaks to the obviously empty alleyway, people start to wonder about the man's state of sanity.

Paul,Roll sanity, 1d3/0 please.

Thank you, Boss.

Paul takes a deep breath of smoke and relief. He silently rubs his eyes and smiles at Laurence.

Lets go on. Sorry to interrupt, but man have their vices.

What the heck?! Paul half expected that it was a trick of the shadowy alley. He muses about some connection between the romans and lake district, imagine that the empire once occupied countries even that far from Rome.He couldn't point it out though.

"Any time," says Laurence, wondering what that was all about. He puts away his lighter and heads into the pub, intending to ask him at a later time when nobody else is around to overhear. He knows his servant must have had his reasons for his action and that Paul was most likely concerned for his safety, but there doesn't appear to be any danger at the moment.

Following the slight distraction, the group finally made their way to The Goat. The aroma of fish and chips, beef stew, and more flowed freely outward seeking to lure more people in. Were it not for the fact of the large meal they had earlier, the investigators might find their stomaches growling. There is a lot of talking going on inside. Peering in through the windows, you can tell the place is very busy. Looks like perhaps everyone in town comes here to socialize. In the back by the bar there are some men singing folk songs.

There is a hearty fire burning away in the large fireplace that warms the room.

The landlord is stood behind the bar pulling a slow pint of a very dark and frothy evil-looking concoction called "Devil's Eye" for one of the locals. Other hand pumps are labelled with equally mysterious brews: "Bishops Dingle", "Old Speckled Hen", and "Ted's Shank".

The landlord is a portly gent with a large, red and pockmarked nose. He is sporting a large bushy mousy beard that is tinged with grey. He finishes pulling the pint and hands it over to the customer who joins a group of his fellow villagers at a table.

He noticed the investigators enter and with a smile calls out, "Greetings to ya strangers. What can I get for ya? Do you want a real ale or one of your wussy town-beers from a…bottle?"

The party detects no animosity amongst the pub dwellers towards themselves. Everyone seems rather cheerful and accepting to the visitors.

Pet smiles and makes her way over to the bar. "I'll have some of the local brew, thanks."

"I'll have a real ale, of course," says Laurence, also approaching the bar.

"Can I have a glass of white wine?" asks Samantha.

The bartender smiles when given such an open order. He pours the strongest of the local brews on tap and passes the mugs over to Laurence and Pet, then pours a glass of red wine for Samantha. "What brings you all to Glendale?" He already suspects he knows the answer, but uses this common phrase as an ice breaker.

Laurence thinks he sees Martin's sister off in the corner, very cozy with some man.

Laurence takes a swig from his ale. "Thank you, it's quite good," he says. "We're in Glendale because of the stories we've heard about the Little People and hauntings. In fact, this very establishment is said to be haunted."

"Stories? Oh, lads and lasses... there are plenty a story to tell. Trust me on that. Why it is indeed true that even The Goat is the common pacing ground for a ghost." The barkeep straightens and absently grabs a mug and dishrag and starts to clean it as he mentions, "Same thing happens ev'ry time. Ol' Bill Tarmey comes back. He has been back what, four - nay... five times. He is always workin'. Wiping the tables, emptying the ashtrays, or pulling a ghostly pint. His favorite was 'Black Goat'. Made it himself 'e did. Bastard took the recipe to his grave..." A cross look passes the barkeep's face for an instant, but gone as quickly as it shown up. "But these fine patrons..." he waved his dishrag toward the crowded bar, "they'll be more than happy to chew your ear with their tales."

"Did you know Bill Tarmey personally?" asks Laurence. "How did he die?"

"Aye, I knew Bill Tarmey. He died twelve, nay - thirteen months ago. Doctors said it was a massive 'eart attack," the man behind the bar confesses. "Could be 'e seen a ghost o' his own." He shrugged, then leaned back. "With Bill gone, and no successors, the pub was up for sale. I moved quickly, seeing this lucrative business for what it is - spent every last dime I 'ad saved to purchase The Goat outright from the city."

The rest of the pub continues to go along with their merry ways. Not an angry sod in the joint. Bar songs continue to lift up from one of the corners. Linda Brown continues to feel her way through the crowd from man to man. She seems very promiscuous. Paul stepped away from the group, intending to mingle.

ooc,Going to try to find a replacement player for Paul. Poor lad, must be shaken up from that vision he had outside the tavern.

Laurence notes Linda's pattern of movement through the pub and positions himself so that he'll be in her path, giving him the perfect opportunity to talk to her.

Petronella sips her drink, and turns to look at the bar's patrons, noticing Linda.

Samantha sips her drink, for a moment looking disapprovingly at the wrong type of wine served, but deciding not to complain this time. She looks around the pub with interest, taking the chance to people watch, and listening to snatches of conversations.