Penwick: Theodore

You are Theodore Cunningham, a Lord of Penwick and a member of the Royal Society. You stand in the dimly lit common room of The Red Lion, the once grand inn now showing signs of wear. The wooden floor creaks beneath your feet as you move towards the bar, where Andy Parrington polishes a mug with a dirty rag. The fire in the hearth crackles weakly, casting flickering shadows on the walls adorned with faded portraits of past Lords. The air is cool, carrying the faint scent of old wood and stale ale. You notice a few patrons scattered about, their faces illuminated only briefly by the firelight. They murmur quietly amongst themselves, their conversations hushed and urgent. Andy Parrington looks up as you approach, his eyes meeting yours with a mixture of curiosity and wariness. "Lord Cunningham," he greets you, his voice steady. "What brings you to The Red Lion tonight?" You take a seat at the bar, the wooden stool groaning under your weight. "I'm looking for answers, Andy," you reply, your voice firm. "Penwick is falling apart, and I need to know why." Andy nods slowly, setting the mug down and leaning in closer.