Martin pockets Norgims tithe with a bow. Later when they are ready, he leads the party outside into the crisp cool air of the morning. The day is bright, and you each find yourself half jogging to keep up with the young acolytes pace.
A little less than an hour, after passing through the village of Tres, which in almost all respect resembles a smaller version of Capendu, and drawing a few odd looks from the locals, you arrive at the tower.
The tower itself is built in the river, upon a raised mound of earth some fifty feet from the river's bank. A narrow causeway just 10 feet wide leads to the square building at the towers base. There it ends at a heavy iron door.
The tower extends up from the building. It is square, and grey-black and three stories high. At the top of the tower a blue pennant flies from the battlements, bearing the image of a lion couchant.
As you approach, two men at arms look down upon you with hard faces. Martin waves to the men above and then halts you at the causeway at the rivers edge.
"One moment," he says smiling. "I sent Brother Darow this earlier to herald our coming. His Lordship rarely allows strangers in his tower and prefers to meet out here."
As if by cue, the iron door opens. Two men at arms with halbreds flank a shorter, gaunt figure dressed in a silver chain shirt. The figure moves slowly and with difficulty, leaning upon a sheathed two handed claymore, stooped like a withered tree. He stops a few paces from the party, breathing strenously.
One of the escorts produces a small camp stool. The elderly figure sits down with some effort then for the first time looks at the group before him. You can see his face is a mass of wrinkles.
"Forgive my sitting strangers." the old man begins. He has a long white beard, thick eyebrows, and sparse snowy hair on his head. " I mean no disrespect. The acolytes have brought word of your coming. How can I be of service? You know evil stalks this place, have you come to deliver us? Or are you simply fortune seekers? Dont let my aged appearance decieve you,I am no feeble fool. I may now be 101, but in my youth I was an adventurer...I fought beside Mordenkainen himself.. and.."
The old man stops shaking his head. "But nay, you have no desire to hear the tales of a relic. I am Giles, Lord Giles master of this domain, once called the Lion Knight, but now simply called old Lord Giles. Do not waste my time, I beg you, so speak your questions, so called heroes."