"Oh, that quesht," said Vic. "Never happen. Damn shtatue'sh been losht for two thoushand yearsh. What happened to my wine?"
"Would you need companions for such a quest?"
"Yesh, of courshe," muttered Vic rubbing his eyes. "Alwaysh need companionsh for a quesht. Pain in the neck, really, but it'sh traditional. If anyone found the damn thing, they'd be the onesh to take." He yawned widely. "Time for a nap," he said, and leaned back in his chair.
"Vic?" said Father Thwaite. There was no reply. "Vic?"
"Let me get this straight," said Sidney. "He wants us to go to Arst-Kara-Morn with him."
"A place," said Nick, "where they'd rather gut you like a trout than say hello."
"Lugging a statue that weighs a ton," said Garni, "across three thousand miles of hostile terrain."
"A statue," said Timaeus, "that we're suppose to hide from the opposition while it pumps out magical energy like a whole pantheon of gods." Vic began to snore.
"Vith," said Kraki, "a senile geezer who can't even remember vhat year it is as our guide."
"Your wine, sir?" said the waiter, presenting a bottle. Vic snored.
Everyone stared at him.
"Never mind the damned wine," snapped Wentworth. "What about our food?"
The End Or, At Any Event,
The Shameless Cliff-Hanger
Notes
The main trade currency of the human lands is the pound argentum-which is equal to one pound of silver, as the pound sterling was originally. Different polities mint their own coins, but all coin is hard money, and the pound-shilling-pence system has been universally adopted. There are twenty shillings to the pound and twelve pence to the shilling, meaning that each penny weights one-twentieth of a (troy) ounce. Nick says that one ounce of gold is worth one pound argentum; if he is correct, gold is somewhat more common in his world than in our own. On earth, gold usually goes for fifteen to sixteen times as much, per ounce, as silver; but there are only twelve troy ounces to the troy pound, not sixteen. Perhaps Nick is confusing the troy pound with the pound avoirdupois—a supposition suggested by the fact that he talks of Father Thwaite's weight in the same passage.
"Essence of belladonna" is, in fact, atropine, a drug refined from the belladonna plant. Its appearance here is, of course, not in keeping with the otherwise Renaissance technology of the world; in our world, it was first extracted in the mid-nineteenth century. I posit that the fascination of witches and alchemists with medicinal plants and herbs leads to alternative, magical methods of extraction. The symptoms and dosages described are correct; however, I believe atropine is no longer used as an anaesthetic. It is still sometimes used in the treatment of certain poisons.
The orcish Hymn of Propitiation can be sung to the tune of Beethoven's Ode to Joy (if anyone cares).
Several archaic units of measure are used. A cubit is traditionally the distance between the tip of one's middle finger and the elbow—about eighteen inches. A stone is a unit of weight, that, depending on type, can vary from eight to twenty-two pounds; the traditional English stone is fourteen pounds.
Another Day, Another Dungeon Page 27