Prologue Pt 1
Gavel Thuldrin Kreed ran his fingers through his thick mane of his hair and sighed as Sheriff Deldrin Baleson finished his report on the illness that was running rampant through the town and destroying the morale of his workers in the process. Conditions for the woodsmen and their familes in Falcon Hollow were hard enough on the best of days, a fact that Kreed secretly considered a source of great pride, but there were times when the Lumber Consortium had to appear to adopt a softer stance on things to keep the woodsmen focusing on their work, instead of their family.
Glancing away from the perpetual frowning half-elf, Thuldrin could easily see why the loggers all referred to the Sheriff as “Old Grimjaws”, but this once Thuldrin considered the look well earned. Resting his gaze on the halfling who had made himself comfortable on the plush couch in his office, Thuldrin’s tone did little to hide his frustration at his second-in-command.
“Well Harg? What have you to say in all this? If the good Sheriff considers this matter so urgent as to call us all together, surely the good Magistrate has already thought of a solution.”
Harg’s relaxed expression never changed as he matched the Gavel’s stare and spoke quietly.
“You know as well as I do that we encourage the more experienced members of any faith to seek their fortunes in greener pastures than Falcon Hollow. In the past, this practice has served us quite well, but it seems this time that the cards were not kind to us. My advice is to let this run its course and continue pressing forward with business as usual. We have identified the well where the fungus was growing and ceased using it, and to be candid thus far it seems to only be really harming the elderly and children which…”
The remainder of Harg’s sentence died in his throat as Baleson’s fist slammed into Kreed’s desk, startling the halfling more than he cared to admit. While Harg’s magic had secured his position in the Consortium, as well as many other luxuries at the brothel in town, none of his enchantments seemed to penetrate the Sheriff’s mental defenses and Harg knew he was no match for the half-elf in a physical match. Working to keep his face neutral, Harg had rarely seen the Sheriff this angry and when he had, the cause of that anger was soon to feel the bite of his blade.
“Speak another word Magistrate of how the people are mere checks and balances in your books and I will have your tongue. This is no simple cold that a night’s rest and a bowl of Laurel’s special stew will take care of by morning. If it were, I agree that letting it run its course is the logical thing to do, but also if it were, do you think I would have brought the two of you together in one room for something so trivial? I am well aware that there is more that goes on behind these doors than what I am privy to, but I accept that because the town accepts it. So know that in this, I speak for the town that you both bleed to line your purses with your coin. If you two do not do something, and do it soon, when this does run its course, the price you will pay later might be far more than you know.”
Turning his back to them both, Deldrin’s stride took him out of the office quickly leaving the two ranking members of the Consortium alone in the room. Finally after the silence grew heavy to his ears, Kreed spoke.
“Put out the word that I want this dealt with immediately. If the complaints have grown so loud as to rattle Grimjaws’ nerves, then it has progressed further than I thought. Contact Laurel and see if there is anything she can do, I would prefer to keep this matter inside the camp instead of sending riders to the city.”
Standing up from the couch, Harg nodded his head and began walking towards the door, but Kreed’s final thoughts brought a large smile to his face.
“Also begin making some inquiries with your friends about someone who might like a new job away from the city. I have a feeling that it might be time for Grimjaws to retire…”
Gavel Thuldrin Kreed ran his fingers through his thick mane of his hair and sighed as Sheriff Deldrin Baleson finished his report on the illness that was running rampant through the town and destroying the morale of his workers in the process. Conditions for the woodsmen and their familes in Falcon Hollow were hard enough on the best of days, a fact that Kreed secretly considered a source of great pride, but there were times when the Lumber Consortium had to appear to adopt a softer stance on things to keep the woodsmen focusing on their work, instead of their family.
Glancing away from the perpetual frowning half-elf, Thuldrin could easily see why the loggers all referred to the Sheriff as “Old Grimjaws”, but this once Thuldrin considered the look well earned. Resting his gaze on the halfling who had made himself comfortable on the plush couch in his office, Thuldrin’s tone did little to hide his frustration at his second-in-command.
“Well Harg? What have you to say in all this? If the good Sheriff considers this matter so urgent as to call us all together, surely the good Magistrate has already thought of a solution.”
Harg’s relaxed expression never changed as he matched the Gavel’s stare and spoke quietly.
“You know as well as I do that we encourage the more experienced members of any faith to seek their fortunes in greener pastures than Falcon Hollow. In the past, this practice has served us quite well, but it seems this time that the cards were not kind to us. My advice is to let this run its course and continue pressing forward with business as usual. We have identified the well where the fungus was growing and ceased using it, and to be candid thus far it seems to only be really harming the elderly and children which…”
The remainder of Harg’s sentence died in his throat as Baleson’s fist slammed into Kreed’s desk, startling the halfling more than he cared to admit. While Harg’s magic had secured his position in the Consortium, as well as many other luxuries at the brothel in town, none of his enchantments seemed to penetrate the Sheriff’s mental defenses and Harg knew he was no match for the half-elf in a physical match. Working to keep his face neutral, Harg had rarely seen the Sheriff this angry and when he had, the cause of that anger was soon to feel the bite of his blade.
“Speak another word Magistrate of how the people are mere checks and balances in your books and I will have your tongue. This is no simple cold that a night’s rest and a bowl of Laurel’s special stew will take care of by morning. If it were, I agree that letting it run its course is the logical thing to do, but also if it were, do you think I would have brought the two of you together in one room for something so trivial? I am well aware that there is more that goes on behind these doors than what I am privy to, but I accept that because the town accepts it. So know that in this, I speak for the town that you both bleed to line your purses with your coin. If you two do not do something, and do it soon, when this does run its course, the price you will pay later might be far more than you know.”
Turning his back to them both, Deldrin’s stride took him out of the office quickly leaving the two ranking members of the Consortium alone in the room. Finally after the silence grew heavy to his ears, Kreed spoke.
“Put out the word that I want this dealt with immediately. If the complaints have grown so loud as to rattle Grimjaws’ nerves, then it has progressed further than I thought. Contact Laurel and see if there is anything she can do, I would prefer to keep this matter inside the camp instead of sending riders to the city.”
Standing up from the couch, Harg nodded his head and began walking towards the door, but Kreed’s final thoughts brought a large smile to his face.
“Also begin making some inquiries with your friends about someone who might like a new job away from the city. I have a feeling that it might be time for Grimjaws to retire…”
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