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?

Interesting

"Well, I had no idea Jeremiah was looking for you. He is hard to take at times when he is being lord of the manor. Did he say what he wanted?"

Hrothgar replied simply about the dagger he had sold, and where and how he found it, and fetched one of them from his saddle bags and brought it to the Cleric to show him.

"Well, my son," Apollonius traced the cresent and dagger shape on the scabbard of the knife with his sausage like fingers. " I believe this would have sparked Jeremiah's attention." 

Apollonius stood up and walked over to a chest behind his desk, unlocked it with a wave of his hand, opened it and dug around inside. He pulled out a small wooden box. He pulled out three silver chains, with a medallion at the ends. He brought it over to Hrothgar. One had the cresent and dagger embossed on it. The other had a giant tree and roots, and the other had a embattled round tower. They were old coins and well tarnished.

"These are necklaces from the history of the Northwode Family. Jeremiah, myself and a few others, retrieved these after many months and much hardship in the West. We each kept ours to remind us of our bond to Jeremiah, and his to us. They were acquired at great cost. Each blazon represents one of Lord Northwode's sons, four generations ago. The blazons were given to the sons as their symbol of manhood, independence, honor, and fealty to the Northwode name. They were to be the bastions of light in the wilderlands of the west. They all failed. Some bravely, some not." He hands the dagger back to you.

"The ruin you explored is the long abandoned, and long silent, or so it was thought, wizards tower and complex of the first son of Lord Esmoor Northwode, Uddilon. An inquisitive and thoughtful lad the stories say. With peircing light blue eyes. And with an all consuming desire about the heavens, stars, and the ethereal. Some say he was marked by the gods when he was born. He had a gimp arm and a stooped back, and a purple mark the size of a hand across his face. But his palsy did not affect his mind, or his legs. He became a renowned runner, thinker and wizard. Until his curiousity led to his downfall."

"His brothers Etherbert, and Simon were destroyed in the fall, as chaos pushed so violently against the west, driving everyone eventually east. Jeremiah, is the son of Thomasyn Northwode, son of Robert, son of Etherbert and is the current Lord Northwode, sole survivor of a very proud family."

"So you can see why he might have some interest."  

   

     

  

Come have a drink, son.

Apollonius pats Hrothgars horse and whispers to him. He stamps his feet and then begins eating attentively the tall grass next to the wall of the graveyard.

Apollonius puts his arm around Hrothgar. Hrothgar drops the lead to his horse and walks contentedly with Apollonius into the back of the church. You enter through a side door towards the

"This is my humble hosts church. He has been a force of light and power and conviction in my life. May he bless you in yours." He holds two fingers up, with is thumb out to the side and makes a wide circle in the air with his hand. The wide circle turns into a spiral that breifly glows blue trailing Apollonius' hand.

He turns to Hrothgar, I think I could use a drink. He pulls Hrothgar into a side door that leads to Apollonius office. It is a simple room. It has a desk and a comfortable chair, bookcases and a map table, a wardrobe without doors that is stuffed with rolled up scrolls, and a seating area with a fireplace, two reading chairs and a rug of some beast that is not readily recognizable. Above the the mantle you notice an enormous iron banded and studded cudgel. It is inscribed with runes and symbols, of which you recognize the one that Apollonius just inscribed in the air out in the church's aisle.

He guides you to a seat by the fireplace, goes to his desk and pulls out a bottle and two short glasses. He fills the glasses and hands you one. You notice the glass is crystal clear and heavy. You have never seen a glass as exquisite. The spirits are warm and burning and they go down your throat. And you feel revived and full of energy.

He comes over and fills his massive bulk into the other chair by the fire. "Here's to your health son. You look like you could use it." He takes a long draw off of his glass. "So friend, tell me of yourself and your lass. Maybe I can help."  

Hrothgar, what do you do?        

The Note

Hrothgar opened the not. It was written in very beautiful script.

"Hrothgar,

I have been summoned to Lord Northewode's keep because of the daggers we sold. I don't think they mean me harm, but want to discuss where we found them and what we saw. They mentioned they were summoning you, but I suspect that has not gone well. I will meet you at the graveyard when I am done. I have discovered many interesting things in the tomes I secured from the Tower.

Enelye"

"Is everything alright son?" questioned Apollonius touching Hrothgar's shoulder. "Why don't you tie your horse up here and we can talk?"

Hrothgar felt an overwelming sense of goodness slowly creep over his body from his shoulder to his toes.

Hrothgar what do you wish to do?

Apollonius

"Well, I'm no Father, except to my daughters, but I would welcome you to be my Brother, and I yours," said the holy man. He chuckled at the father comment. It was a remanant from the old, failed religion of the west. "I am Apollonius, High Cleric of Purl, and this is His Church. I am its caretaker and caregiver."

"I don't believe I recognize you from around here. Is your lady friend from around here? Maybe I know her father. Maybe I could help?"

As Apollonius was speaking to you, you see Enelye leave the front of the Collective House with the guards of Lord Northewode. She walks and talks to the sergeant in what appears to be a pleasant manner. She is carrying the books she took from the Tower. She follows the guards up the hill to the keep.

As she disappears behind the keeps' gate, the halflling boy from the Collective House walks across the street and up to Hrothgar. He hands him a note and runs away.

Apollonius chuckles at the boys' hurried run away from the grizzly looking Hrothgar.

Hrothgar, what do you want to do? 

Hrothgar waits...

Hrothgar darted to the church to the north of the Collective House. The town was bustling as it was almost mid day. The road between the collective house and the church was dotted with merchants and farmers, coming and going to the pallisaded main part of Harm.

Hrothgar dismounted and lead his horse to the back of the church near the graveyard, shielded from the main road, but with a clear eye to the front door of the Collective House.

His horse grazed and he watched.

"Hallu there my good fellow!" said a boisterous voice behind Hrothgar as he peered around the corner of the church. " Is there something I may assist you with?"

Hrothgar turned to see a hugely rotund man in blue, faded, peasant cloth robes tied with a piece of frayed yellow dyed rope. His puffy cheeks and bulbous nose show a face thais almost entirely red and he seems to be breathing somewhat heavy with each sentence."My name is Apollonius and this is my church. Well, his church, but mine to run all the same. Are you looking for someone or are you up to some mischief?"

Hrothgar what do you do?