Play@YSDC

We haven't specified it, but we should probably have one of Ivan or Eliza carry the bucket with the lizard in it, rather than Britches - it would raise a few stares.

Eliza sees Lepus's reaction and murmurs, "Was the quality of the flour your doing, Uncle?"

Twiddling his talisman, Lepus grins.

“Aye, just a smidge of magic: it makes rotten food fresh and brackish water pure. The effects will last for a while, so we won’t want for sustenances.”

The miller's wife, pondering for a bit, remarks "Coach to London sets out on the morrow, it seems to me. Best you find lodgings for the night, or sleep on God's good green earth."

"As much as I like God's good green earth," says Henry, "I prefer to sleep in a bed. Where might we find lodgings in Exeter?"

Lepus allows his friend to do the talking; caring naught for where he lays his head.

There are several inns in Exeter of decent quality; the nearest, it seems, is the Turk's Head, a convenient place to hire a coach to London. Upon arrival at said establishment, the adventurers produce much interest among the patrons and landlord; a phenomenon not to be wondered at, given the unusual nature of the new arrivals. That said, the landlord, evidently a man more interested in obtaining business than driving it away, hurries to greet them.

"Your pleasure, good people?"

Once again Lepus hangs back and allows Henry to do the talking. Meanwhile he scans the inn for any miscreants who might cause trouble.

"Thank you, good sir," says Henry. "We would like a meal and lodgings for the night, please."

Whilst the arrangements are being made for two rooms (one for the gentlemen and one for the lady, of course) and a simple, if adequate, meal and good plain ale to accompany it, the host directs his guests to make themselves comfortable as they please. The other patrons of the Turk's Head eye the newcomers now and then, with expressions revealing more curiosity than either friendliness or hostility.

"Thank you," says Henry to the proprietor. "Is there any news of late?"

Lepus treats the patrons to a friendly grin, tipping his battered tricorne in greeting.

Thankfully, with his talisman still active for a while, any food served to the trio is unlikely to be rotten.

Eliza has been staring all around ever since entering the city, and is doing to the same in tavern - she has been taught that it is rude to stare at people, so she avoids doing so, but she is clearly fascinated by this gathering of unrelated people - so different from, and in such different surroundings to, the Altimber family and their mansion.

d100Ha. I'm using one of the random tables for current events at the village, which is numbered 1 to 100, but the creator of Ghastly Affair accidentally left out 32!

The host shakes his head.

"'Tis a dull place, sad to say. Naught of note."

Let's try some another random table.d20

Let's try some other random tables.d20d8

Not long after this statement, that agrees with common opinion as expressed by the others present, a fellow of late middle age, bespectacled, somewhat stout and balding, whose attire is of good quality but somewhat neglected, enters the place, carrying several loose sheets of parchment, which he studies now and again as he speaks.

"My surveys of the local area indicate the presence of a member of the species Ursus arctos in the vicinity. Such are thought to be long defunct in the British Isles, yet the signs are unmistakable. It is a remarkable discovery!"

Instead of the enthusiasm which the fellow evidently expects, there is much jeering from the patrons, and even the tossing of stale crusts of bread and rinds of cheese at him.

"Out with you, madman! Your tinkering with God knows what has done enough harm to the good folk of Exeter!"

The man seems more bemused than angered by this reaction.

Lepus looks from the newcomer to Henry: a fellow who has done more than his fair share of ‘tinkering’.

“What harm has this fellow done?” he asks the patrons in general.

"A polar bear here in the British Isles would be an astounding find," says Henry. "But what sort of tinkering could this man have done to cause harm?"

The reply is quick to come.

"Him? Only brought destruction upon my cousin's barn with I know not what, made from clockwork and wire and much else."

"Aye, and spoiled the barley when was ripe, by fouling the air with unnatural fogs."

"Good people," the man replies, "these were merely missteps on the difficult road to wisdom. I assure you, all will be for the best soon enough."

This does not appear to appease the onlookers.

"Very well," he says, before withdrawing, "I have warned you of the beast's presence. May it do you no great harm. Good day."

"It is possible for a polar bear to have made it to Britain, I suppose," says Henry. "It could have sailed on an ice floe and lived on fish. But how would it have come so far south? Perhaps we should follow the man and find out more."

“Aye, ‘tis an interesting mystery, yesno? Let us follow.”

Taking no apparent notice of those following him, the fellow walks at a leisurely pace towards what might be described charitably as an eccentrically constructed building, not very near any other homes. Along the way he occasionally bends down to retrieve a sheet of parchment that drops from his bundle. The building seems to consist of a hastily build addition haphazardly joined to a smaller and more usual dwelling. It is this lesser part of the structure that the man enters. As he does so, a group of children, whose less than immaculate appearance suggests that they do not benefit from as much supervision as might be wanted, comes running up to the house. As the fellow closes the door behind himself, that take up a chant, in jeering tone.

"Loon, loon, fly to the Moon!"

They then run away laughing.