astle courtyard. Everything looks as before. A broom is lying next to a dead donkey. The rain begins to pour, the wind blows, on the roof, a devil-shaped weather vane turns, creaking. Lorindil, Snori and Wolfgang enter through the gate. They are standing in the middle of the courtyard.]
[Lorindil] I have an irresistible impression, supported by the sensations of the sense of sight, that our company was diminished by the lack of one persona.
[Snori] Wha?
[Lorindil] That fool from outside the gate fled us.
[Snori] Oh.
[Wolfgang] By Ulric’s name!
[Lorindil] [looking meaningfully at Wolfgang] Fortunately, as you can see, we cannot complain about the deficit of idiots.
[Snori] Okay, whatever. We’ll kick his rump when we meet him on the way to the treasure. And while we’re at it… where do we start looking?
[Lorindil] We can search the stables, the towers … or we can hit the main building directly. I dare to doubt that the treasury is in the stables or one of the towers, so I suggest…
[Snori] Wait, wait! You tree-huggers have no idea about looking for anything other than shrooms and pine cones. Everyone knows that the treasure is not only what we can find in the TREASURY itself. Valuables, money, works of art, magic items will be scattered in every corner of this castle. So we have to thoroughly comb all the chambers and other places one by one.
[Lorindil turns, looks at the crumbling stables, then turns and looks at the dwarf]
[Lorindil] I get the feeling that you just do your best not to admit that I am right.
[Snori] You’re full of it… right, Wolfgang?
[Wolfgang] What’s on the right?
[Snori] Right… Let’s go search the stables then!
[The dwarf briskly rushes towards the stables and disappears inside. Wolfgang and Lorindil stay in the courtyard. At one point, their attention is drawn to the donkey’s carcass. They stand over it and silently reflect (or at least one of them is reflecting, the other is just standing there). They stand like that for several seconds.]
[Lorindil] What do you think this is doing here?
[Wolfgang] [after a moment’s thought] Rotting.
[Lorindil] [in a flat voice] Wolfgang, what’s your father’s name?
[Wolfgang] Ulrich!
[Lorindil] And his father’s?
[Wolfgang] Ulrich!
[Lorindil] And your god is…
[Wolfgang] By Ulric’s name! Ulric!
[Lorindil] And the elder of your village, the innkeeper and other public figures were also named …
[Wolfgang] Ulrich!
[Lorindil] Yeah, I’m starting to see a pattern here. And when it so happens in your village that some, let’s say, mutant, cripple or a person suffering from, say, a mental handicap, is born… then that person would probably be given a slightly different name out of respect for the deity, but still it would be in similar fashion?
[Wolfgang] Huh?
[At this point, they are interrupted by a dwarf running out of the stables.]
[Snori] Ruuuuuuuuuuuuun!
[Behind him, the gates of the stables snap open, and a carriage rushes out. It is all black, ornamented, pulled by two horse skeletons and driven by a headless coachman wielding a huge scythe. Seeing this, the elf takes his bow and releases an arrow towards the coachman. This, however, does not make any impression on him. Realizing the situation, Wolfgang takes his sword into his hands and screams a challenge at the coach. The dwarf also stops, turns and readies his axe. When the coach almost reaches the heroes, a snap of fingers can be heard in the background. The coach, horses and the coachman freeze, the rain stops falling. The party looks confused. The doors of the main building burst open and Wilhelm comes out in frustration carrying a handbag. He approaches the three adventurers.]
[Wilhelm] Guys… What is this supposed to be?
[Snori, Lorindil, Wolfgang] ?
[Wilhelm] Your first adventure in a mad sorcerer’s castle, full of demons, ghosts, ghouls, other ethereal creatures and one devil? What are you trying to achieve here with these non-magic weapons? By all dark gods, come here!
[The confused party stands around Wilhelm, while he begins to take various items which physically could not fit inside out of his bag.]
[Wilhelm] Alrighty then, the elf gets some magic arrows of far-flight, the human gets a new sword …
[Wolfgang] I have my great-grandfather’s sword, I wield only it!
[Wilhelm] [irritated] Smear your bread with it! Uh… Fine, then you will get a… [rummages in the bag] magical, eh, lubricant!… with which you will rub your weapon… [whispering to the audience] things you don’t do to have fun [hands Wolfgang the jar and turns to the dwarf] And you probably have an axe passed on from an even older grandfather and an ancient great-grandfather?
[Snori] Yup.
[Wilhelm takes a piece of paper with a drawing on it from his purse, licks one side of it, and sticks it to the blade of the dwarven axe.]
[Wilhelm] There ya go, a rune of returning! Now back to work, cause you are making as much progress as Ulricans with their studies.
[Wilhelm disappears into the main building. You can hear the snap of fingers. The carriage, the coachman, the horses are moving again, the rain starts to fall again. With great accuracy, the elf sends his new arrow into the heart of the coachman, the dwarf cuts one of the horse’s legs off with his axe, Wolfgang misses the carriage with his sword. After a while, the heroes begin searching the wreckage of the coach with stony faces.]
[Lorindil] Snori … what exactly happened here?
[Snori] Damn, long-ears, don’t ask difficult questions, just loot!