“The Vintner’s Luck” (5ND00)
by David Agnew
Game Master: Adam Players: Brian, Erin
Game Date: 30 July 2017
Characters: The Doctor, The Master, Ori
Adversaries: The Daleks
Time: 14 September 7306 CE
Space: Dionysus, Zeep Sector
Continuity: The first adventure featuring Ori.
Synopsis: Orizrekit’Gehm knows wine. Hailing from the ocean world of Adrilia, the seasoned vintner is heir to the renowned Gehm family winery, and a lifetime of cultivation has earned her a prestigious position as chief winemaker and sommelier aboard the famed luxury starliner Dionysus. Ori is a particular kind of connoisseur and so, she recognizes, is the strange, pale-faced passenger they call the Doctor. He strolls the liner’s self-contained vineyards as if he owns them, and his knowledge of variety and vintage is seemingly boundless. Ori is intrigued by this unusual man and, in a bid to impress him, she ventures into the depths of the Dionysus wine cellars to retrieve a rare bottle of Taurasi 178. Instead, she finds a raving metal monster that threatens her with extermination! In the fire and chaos that follow, she learns the truth about this stimulating stranger. The Doctor is experienced and discerning, a veritable virtuoso, but danger follows in his footsteps, and adrenaline is the vintage he knows best.
ORI BREATHED in deeply. On the gentle breeze, she recognized the delicate fragrance of three distinct varieties of grapes. She let out a small sigh, knowing that in this part of the vineyard, she should be able to detect the kasis fruit as well. She closed her eyes and inhaled again, shutting out the bright afternoon. And then it was there—on the edge of her senses—slightly sour and wholly delicious.
Relief washing over her, she opened her eyes again and smiled. Sometimes she worried that this artificial environment would start dulling her senses, but the sunshine and the wind that felt so real to the tourists aboard the Dionysus could never trick her acute perception. Reaching out to the closest vine, she bent down and rubbed the leaves between her fingers and inspected the fruit closely. She glanced down the row of vines to her left and to her right, then buried her face in the bunch of grapes and inhaled.
STARING INTO the thick, amber-coloured liquid of the proffered snifter, Alison leaned as far back in her armchair as the tufted leather would allow. “I’ve told you, I don’t like brandy!”
The Doctor was standing over her, pushing the glass toward her face. His lean, anaemic countenance fell into bafflement. Although he had demonstrated a near limitless imagination, it was as if he could not imagine a guest turning their nose up at a drink. With an eyebrow arched, he looked to the Master, who was tending to the controls at the central console. The android paused, smiled, and shook his head. “There’s no accounting for taste,” he offered.