h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

Fine, fine.

But I can't help but notice that you also dodged the question.

*in between mouthfuls of stew* Of course. I'm a lawyer, after all.

Nevertheless, even when McFierce arrives, I beg you to refrain from mentioning that name until you are relatively alone. *the alleged bird on the judge's wig hops down on to the table and utters a low cawing sort of noise*

*to the alleged bird* Is that so?
*to the adventurers* Eat hearty, my adventuring acquaintances! If your quest takes you up Cairn Gorm, who knows when you'll have another hot meal?

* Peet, ever the humanitarian, offers a piece of beef from the stew to a skanky, starving cat hanging about under the table. The cat sniffs, almost licks it but thinks better of it, hisses at the appetising brown lump, glares at Peet and walks off with its tail in the air. *



Any more of that bread?

The background noise of the inn, which had returned to normal after Afgncaap5's mention of "gray man", now dies off again, as the regulars turn to look at a new arrival*

*Having recognized this new arrival, they return to their conversation*

*The new arrival is tall and broad of shoulder and hip, but lean. His kilt reveals heavily muscled legs and well-worn boots. A leather coat with fleece turned in is draped over his back, and he leans on a dark wooden staff. His hair is long, like his beard, and his moustache makes it difficult to read his expression. Gray eyes look out from under heavy brows, and coolly regard the strangers. A border collie stands at his heel, also regarding the strangers*

*After a long moment, he turns to Britney and indicates with several gestures that he will eat. He strides up to the table, pulls out a chair and sits down without regard for an invitation, merely nodding slightly to the judge*

*the dog lies down at the man's feet after touching noses with the skanky cat*

[Lentilla eyes the newcomer, always appreciative of tall dark strangers. She takes a hearty pull of ale, and nods quietly to the stranger.]

Oh, what a nice dog! [Lentilla offers a bit of bread to the alleged bird.] And this is good stew, too - Guinness?

*Munches on more bread, and nods to the newcomer*

Hello.

*methodically empties his bowl of stew, using bread as a utensil, then thumps the bowl twice on the table. Britney brings two more bowls, and Hamish puts one on the floor for the collie then goes to work on the other bowl*
*the collie polishes off most of the bowl then nudges it toward the cat*
*meanwhile, Hamish examines each of the adventurers in turn*
*his eyes linger on Afgncaap5's sword, and on the basket of mufflewhumps by the paper lady's side*

*having finished his stew, he leans back and takes a long pull of his beer mug*

*finally he returns Afgncaap5's greeting*

Evenin'. You carry magic. You bring women. You speak forbidden names. Mark you, I observe, not accuse. Most adventurers are more careful in their speech, so I'm reckoning you carry strong magic indeed. And unusual women.

*glances at the pirate and lowers his voice* And you seem to be prepared for a voyage.

Judge Edmonds, bid your demon put us in chambers. I would hear what these strangers have to say for themselves.

*the judge taps the table next to the alleged bird*
Grenville, sound-proof us.
*the bird disappears and, in a moment, the hubbub of the inn dies out and is replaced by the sound of a string quartet softly playing Haydn*

You may speak freely now, without fear of disturbing the crowd.

All the magic I carry at the moment is in my sword, Mr. McFierce, though I *do* have a lot of sufficiently advanced technology on my person. It's more accurate to say that I'm of magic, rather than that I carry it. But that's a story I've never told, and don't plan on telling now.

And it's not the first forbidden name I've spoken, nor is it the most dangerous response I've gotten from speaking it. Speak Ahkmut in the wrong place and the earthquakes'll come too fast to escape.

But we should get to business: we need to climb Cairn Gorm so that we can locate The Grey Man and, if at all possible, not be detected by him. Do you know anything about this most elusive Yeti or where he resides? And can you guide us there?

Aye, and can ye help me with me hornpipe? Ever since I lost me leg, I've lost the knack.

* Slips Buccaneer a small bag of blue pills under the table *

*Eats more bread. More bread!*

*blinks at the pirate's request, then frowns*

And who told you the Gray Man is on Cairn Gorm?

*Takes the bag of blue pills and pours them out onto his hand. Looks at them, shrugs and tosses them over his shoulder. They land in the pitcher of beer at the next table.*

Arrrr, this be the place all right. Says so right here!

*Buccaneer pulls out a crumpled, water-stained piece of paper and smoothes it out in front of McFierce.*
http://heritage.scotsman.com/myths.cfm?id=40002005


Tho I'd wager the "window" explanation gots the rights of it.

Mr. McFierce, Affy has told us that the Grey Man stalks the heights of Cairn Gorm. I've never seen him, although I found this clump of grey hair in my recent adventures... [Lentilla pulls the hair out of her voluminous pockets and places it on the table, keeping it away from the bread basket.]

Though to be honest, it could easily be rat fur or the hairball of a cat.

[While the adventurers are surrounded in perfect silence, still the sounds of a hornpipe filter through the air. Lentilla looks behind her to see that the beer pitcher is now doing a dance on the table and sloshing quite a bit of beer on the floor.] Jeez... I hope that doesn't attract too much attention.

*outside the circle of silence, patrons are getting to their feet to dance the hornpipe*

*Hamish ignores them and squints down at the crumpled paper* Och aye, Am Fear Liath More. ~That~ Gray Man.

Now why would you want to find the Gray Man? And then what?

Hamish, a real Scotsman would say "Grey Man"; "Gray" is an Americanism.

Ah, but who's to say our Mr. McFierce is a Scottsman, then?


Once we locate the Grey Man, discerning exactly what he is is our initial objective.

That, plus I want his staff. I've got a place on my mantle for it.

So... One question still remains.

Why Teddy Roosevelt?

Well, he was an avid hunter...