Weather: cool, with cloudy conditions, no rain and a gentle breeze.
Four days pass uneventfully. The party is free to heal, if any of that needs doing, rest, attend church, become more familiar with Engelke and in general rest. Remember that food consumption is only a pound a day, and that there are no costs beyond the inn rooms and stabling, unless you want a shave or a bath or something like that.
There was a terrific storm on Thursday afternoon, with high winds, an immense deluge of rain in only an hour (nearly three inches) and airborne spray off the sea. Engelke faces the Dollart, however, and is well protected when the wind blows from the north or northwest, so the storm was mostly just very interesting, being blown away from the town.
Behind Engelke, I should say, there are no forests; the land is a collection of scrubby mounds of earth and sand, and there are even a few dunes here and about that grow and shrink over time. There is some cultivation, but most of the hinterland has none at all, particularly north of the town, and what there is extends in the direction of Leer. There is some hunting that the townspeople participate in this time of year, for the dunes are loaded with grouse living off the wild seed that grows there, and while the season of autumn begins to deepen the birds are fat.
Come Monday morning, whomever wishes to pay to enter the old walled town may do so; the price for looking up the name you want is a single gold piece, not one each. But you are quite surprised when you are told by the records scribe, "Michel Devereaux? Of course I know him. He's still alive, don't you know? Used to be a famous citizen of the town, but those days are well past now - don't imagine most know of him any more. Mad as a hatter, lives by himself in the north of town, upon Tutelborg lane near the Hieve swamp. Little two-story house, stands by itself ... sure you won't have trouble finding it."