"I like this guy," Hrothgar turned to Enelye. "A bit creepy, but we need bodies. Write down his name.
Next!"

Caradog

(used without permission)

The giant of a man finished his stew, wiped his mouth on his arm, grabbed his dirk, and walk right over to Hrothgar. "I'm in. Full share. I'm ok with a sword." He leaned down to Hrothgar and said unbelieveably delicately and quietly. "I'm better at other things."

He then turned around and headed to the bar and ordered a pitcher of ale. HE drank from the pitcher like a tankard.

Hrothgar, What do you do?

"Anyone else?" Hrothgar shouted to the crowd. "No fops need apply."

WHAT!

"Well sir! I have never been more insulted. I do not know how you do business. It is a simple contract. I do not wish to do business with you sir. Now or Ever!

Ulf stands up quickly, upsetting the table and spilling enelye's and Hrothgars drinks. Ulf strides quickly away andtoward the front door of the Weary Tankard.

Hrothgar what do you do?

Hrothgar took the paper, studied it closely, lightly scratching his beard. He then proceeded to tear the contract into small scraps. "This will make fine starter for the camp fire." He glared at Ulf intently. "A handshake does fine where I come from".

An agreement

Ulf scratched his beard, looked at the merchant he was travelling with, then turned to Hrothgar, "You have a deal. Shall we sign an agreement as such?" Ulf reached into a satchel slung across his chest and hanging to his waist and pulled out a bundle of parchment sheafs.

"I just so happen to have one made up here," He said rifling through the papers. "Here we go." He sat down at the table. Pulled out an ink well and pen and began to write on an already almost fully filled out paper, read and murmuring aloud as he read and filled out the rest.

"I, the undersigned, do hereby agree,....mummble mumble mumble, one full share in all proceeds from said journey, and until such time....mumblemumble mumble, in addition rations as described ... mumble mumble mumble...but does not include... mumble mumble, therefore I," He turned to Hrothgar, "Hrothgar is it?" He wrote it anyway knowing ot was his name. "I Hrothgar, do hereby agree and certify that this debt will be paid....mumble mumble mumble...this second week of summer."

He slid the paper over to Hrothgar. "Please do sign on the line so we may execute our agreement." He extended his hand forward with the pen for Horthgar to sign.

Hrothgar what do you do?

Hrothgar gave a slight growl. "Everyone splits the shares even. In this case three ways. I'll pay for your grub, but you can sharpen your own damn sword."

The corner booth

Hrothgar sat in the corner booth, in relative darkness, across from Enelye.

The man in the slashed leather jerkin got up from his droning companinon and walked directly over to Hrothgar.

He stood in front of him, confident. "My name is Ulfwick Fornier. Most everyone calls me Ulf. I have a steady sword arm and could stand to be away from that yacking fool. I must demand a full share, plus traveling rations and a new edge on my blade. If that is acceptable to you I shall be available to accompany you on this, well what ever it is you are doing." He waved his gloved hand in disregard. "Please let me know, directly so I may end my association with that pratteling old fool." Pointing over his shoulder at the man he was sitting with.

Hrothgar What do you do?

A proclamation

Hrothgar, still wearing his magic cloak, jump atop the nearest bench.


"Citiznes!", he shouted above the din,"I beg but a moment of your time. I am Ranor, servant to mighty adventurer Hrothgar." Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Enelye rolling her eyes. He continued "we seek brave retainers for a perilous quest. All will enjoy an even split of what treasures are found. Gentlemen, and ladies, there is glory enough for all.

Those interested should come to this corner table", he said pointing.

Hrothgar hopped down and retired to the back where he could remove his cloak and return as the mighty Hrothgar.

Hmph...

HRothgar got up and walked to the one nearest to their booth. It was the giant of a man, eating ferociously at his stew.

Hrothgar what do you do?

"Let's try 'em all." He got up from the table and approached the closest one.

Weary Tankard - Interior

"What are you wearing Enelye?" said under her breath as she sat down.

Hrothgar told her the story of Apollonius, and his generosity and Hrothgar's good fortune.

"Well I spoke to Lord Northewode. Gruff fellow. Not full of meeriment or life at all it seems. Somber and sullen. He was very interested in our daggers and where they came from. He was also puzzled by the ease at which we found them. Most of those kind of relics were discovered and melted down or destroyed generations ago." Enelye paused, "I think he wants to make sure the evils that parts of his ancestors wrought are not coming back to haunt him in the present. The books and the mysterious scrawl were all very disturbing to him. He said to raze the tower if we needed to, he didn't care. But as Lord, he insisted on updates when we come back and forth on anything related to the Northewode legends and name. I kept the books to see if it would help us."

Another pause...

"He was an adventurer you know. Pretty good at it as well. Most of Harm was built out of his coffers. Appollonius was one of his travelling mates. He talked a bit about that as well. He is maimed now, and old, but would have been quite sight in his day."

"So I assume you want to go back. I would like to as well. We had better see if we can find another sellsword to help us."

Enelye scanned to tavern. It was time for the midday meal and the tavern had become quite full as  they had talked. Merchants, tradesmen, craftsmen, and some travellers crowded the tables. Several potential people stood out as neither farmers or merchants. A littleling woman in the corner who was deftly drank flaggons of beer and ate massive amounts of pie at the same time, a very trim and clean man in travelling clothes, who was trying very hard to seduce the serving girl, a massive man, soft around the middle, in a very worn padded jerkin, hungrily scrafing stew, with a large dirk prominently laying on the table next to him, and finally, a foppish sort of man in a slashed and embroidered black leather jerkin with a soft cap with a long white-tipped blue feather coming out of it sat impassively as another man he was sitting with droned on with big grand gestures.

"Any of those look good to you?", she said to Hrothgar.

Hrothgar, what do you want to do?

"Enelye, keep yer voice down. It's me, Hrothgar." he said in his real voice. "Sit down and try not to attract attention."