Chapter 1: Missing Persons
Chapter One - Missing Persons
27 Coldeven, Dawn:
The first light of dawn shined down through the cracks in the shutters at the Inn of the Welcome Wench. Endora awoke to the sound of a shrieking eagle. The shutters rattled, and a shadow appeared from between the slats. Excited, she roused the rest of the party. Finally, their messenger had arrived. The mighty golden eagle, Pyria, had been their source of communication with their unseen benefactor for many years. He would deliver written messages back and forth between the adventurers and their master, as well as provide them with aerial protection from time to time.
Endora threw open the shutters, and screamed. The noble bird was hanging by its neck in the open window. Pyria had been eviscerated. His entrails hung from his belly still dripping with fresh blood. One of his claws had been torn off, and his eyes had been gouged out. A slender scroll case was driven through his skull, passing through both eye sockets.
The fiery redhead woke groggily and surveyed the scene before her. Confused, disgusted and frightened, she demanded to know what was going on. Endora cut the rope around Pyria’s neck, and she and the group turned their attention to the strange woman. Lengthy introductions were made (including everything from hair color and fashion sense, to favorite breakfast foods), and the woman known as Tyris decided to join with the party. She figured that had nothing to lose, and they had shown her kindness by taking her in, after all.
With their minds occupied by Tyris’ intriguing story of coming to this world, and by the death of their feathered long-time companion, the group had nearly forgotten about the scroll case! Gann finally spoke up about getting on with smiting evil, and the scroll case was opened:
“My children,
The time has come at long last for us to meet, though I fear it is under the direst of circumstances. A great evil is attempting to return to this land, and I have traced its roots here, to Hommlet. We must act quickly, for I feel that my actions are being observed by those who serve this darkness. When you receive this missive, make haste and meet me immediately at the…..”
The note was torn off at the bottom and smeared with blood. A strange symbol was drawn on the parchment, also in blood. It was a crude triangle, divided into three sections by what looked to be an upside-down letter “Y”. Tyris and Gann shared the concern of the members of the Order of the Eagle. This was not a good sign!
Willow, the druid, decided that the first order of business was to give Pyria a proper funeral. When she arrived in Hommlet, she had noticed that there was a well-tended grove across the street from the Inn. She suggested that they seek out the druid of the grove and request the rites of burial. She felt that their quest would be cursed while the spirit of their companion was at unrest. Endora wrapped the dead eagle in a bed sheet, and the party headed downstairs.
Entering the common room, the party was surprised at how busy the Inn of the Welcome Wench was at this time of morning. Almost every table was occupied by hungry patrons eagerly devouring their breakfasts. The group headed for the door with Endora carrying the remains of Pyria. As they were about to depart, they were stopped by the young barmaid. She demanded to know just where they thought they were going with property of the inn on their person.
Willow and Endora explained that they were off to the druid grove to bury the remains of a great eagle, and lifted the corner of the sheet so she could see. “We don’t do that kind of thing here,” the moody barmaid shouted. “Witchcraft and sacrifices are not welcome in our rooms. Especially on our linens! You’ll have to pay for that, and then you must leave!”
“Witchcraft!” Willow bellowed, and slammed her fist down on the counter top. “I would NEVER harm one of nature’s creatures. How dare you accuse me of such a thing!”
A conservative looking middle-aged woman appeared from the kitchen and asked to know what was going on. She looked perturbed. The barmaid pointed to the adventurers and accused them of destroying the property of the inn, and said that she was just about to have them thrown out. Endora explained their side of the story to the woman, and her face softened.
“Oh my,” she said. “I hope you’re not under the impression that dead birds appearing in the window is a regular occurrence here. We try to avoid such inconveniences to our patrons. Of course, the price of the linen will be removed from your expense report to compensate you for your unpleasant experience with us.”
The woman took the barmaid aside and appeared to give her a stern lecture about the treatment of customers, and understanding the strange ways of foreigners. The barmaid stalked off into the kitchen, and the slamming of pots and pans could be heard. The older woman approached the party once more. “You’ll have to excuse Maridosen,” she said. “She’s young and has SUCH a strong spirit. I really don’t know what we’re going to do with her.”
Unimpressed with her first encounter with humans outside her new circle of friends, Tyris decided that she’d keep an eye on this Maridosen. She didn’t like her at all! Most of the party decided it was time to move on to the grove, but Gann chose to stay at the inn. While he respected the Order’s wishes to give their companion a proper burial, he felt that his presence would be awkward and unnecessary at the ceremony.
In the absence of the rest of the group, Gann spoke with several of the patrons in the common room. He learned a little bit about the history of Hommlet, including its connection to the famed Temple of Elemental Evil incident from fifteen years earlier. It seemed a good percentage of the travelers through the small town were adventurers who were seeking adventure and fame near the temple proper. Most ended up leaving town disappointed. There has been no real adventure to be found near Hommlet since the forces of the temple had been vanquished more than a decade earlier. Still, the tourism of wealthy adventuring parties was good for the local commerce!
Gann also overheard an interesting conversation between a couple of local men. It seemed that they had spent a good amount of gold at the potion shop on the other side of town, and their order was several days past due. They had tried to reach the potion maker, but they were turned away by his daughter who said he wasn’t home and to come back later. This had happened three days in a row.
Meanwhile; Tas, Endora, Willow, Davok and Tyris headed across the street to the druid grove. On their way out the door, they took note of a man sitting on the front steps, leisurely smoking a pipe. Those that had been at the inn for a couple of days recognized the fellow as being a frequent visitor to the common room. He was sharply dressed in the attire of a successful fighter or mercenary, and had rough-looking angular features. The man stopped smoking long enough to give the party a polite nod. They ignored him and moved on.
Passing a wagon train in the street, which they also ignored, the party crossed into the grove of trees. The grove was kept up very nicely, with several gardens of new Spring flowers. A young boy was scrambling from flower bed to flower bed with a bucket of water. He looked exhausted. An old, long-bearded man was standing in the middle of a clearing doing nothing. Willow noted that, while the grove had obviously been well-maintained through the years, it seemed to be showing signs of recent neglect.
Willow approached the man and introduced herself. The man looked at her without interest and turned away. Then, looking like something important had just occurred to him, he turned back and smiled widely at the young druid. “Oh, yes. Hello,” he said. “My name is Jaroo. Welcome to my grove of trees. It’s a druid grove you know… because, well, I’m a druid you see! And this is my grove.”
“Ummm…. yeah,” Willow replied. She briefly introduced her companions and explained that they had come here seeking the rites of burial for their eagle friend. He had been killed, and his body desecrated. They wanted to put him to rest in a sacred place where his remains would be safe, and his spirit would be free. Jaroo listened intently, and said nothing. Several awkward moments went by before it dawned on him that maybe he should reply.
“Ok,” he said with finality.
Willow and Endora were starting to question the sanity of the old druid, and they prompted him to show them a proper spot where they could perform the burial. Jaroo thought for a moment before replying, “Why right here, of course. Here is a good spot for burial rites. Yes, a burial rites ceremony. Perfect thing for a dead eagle, isn’t it? Good idea. Let me fetch my burial ceremony things…” His voice trailed off while he disappeared into a small wooden hut constructed from the intertwined limbs of living saplings.
Tas and Davok chuckled as the women watched in disbelief. They started to discuss looking elsewhere to bury Pyria when Jaroo suddenly emerged from the hut with armloads of equipment. “Here we are,” he announced excitedly. “Got my burial ceremony things. Here’s a shovel, figured that would come in very handy for a burial, you think? And I got some books, and spices and other burial-type things here. Whatever you need. So… here you go, carry on.” Jaroo folded his hands and bowed his head, looking as reverent as possible.
Davok grabbed the shovel, and with just a couple mighty heave-ho’s, he had dug a hole more than deep enough to bury the remains of Pyria. Jaroo looked excited. “Such a GOOD idea. A burial ceremony. Yes, why didn’t I think of that.” He once again folded his hands and bowed his head in reverence.
The companions surrounded the grave as Willow prayed to the spirits of the wild to guide their friend safely to the afterlife. It was a very solemn moment, and everyone present… even Jaroo… was touched by her words. After her prayer, Willow asked Davok to place the remains in the grave. “Ok,” he replied. The mighty barbarian picked up the sheet containing their departed friend… and unceremoniously dumped him into the hole.
“Davok!” Willow screamed, and smacked him across the back of the head.
“Ummm, sorry,” he replied. He looked embarrassed, but chuckled slightly. “Thump,” he said quietly to himself, and chuckled again.
With that, the grave was filled and the party was prepared to leave the grove. Just then, the sound of an apparent ruckus emanated from the direction of the Inn of the Welcome Wench. Willow thanked Jaroo and, receiving no response, the party headed back towards the inn. They made a mental note to keep an eye on the strange druid in the future. None of them had a good feeling about him.
As the group cleared the grove, they saw the source of the disturbance. A young girl of nine or ten years was screaming loudly and clutching at the tunic of a sharply dressed man in official looking armor. Several of the party members recognized Elmo as the captain of the militia, who greeted them when they first arrived in Hommlet. His warm welcome, coupled with a stern warning about the consequences of starting trouble in his town, made a lasting impression on everyone who heard it. The spectacle was being observed by a small crowd of onlookers, including Gann and the man with the pipe.
Tas, Willow, Tyris and Davok joined Gann on the steps as he asked the smoking man if he knew what was going on. In a throaty whisper, the mercenary replied that he didn’t know who the girl was. He knew that the armored man was the local captain of the watch, and apparently the girl was frantic over the disappearance of her father a few days ago. He said that when the captain tried to reassure her that everything was fine, she threw a tantrum right here in the street.
Tas and Gann approached Elmo and asked him if they could be of assistance, while Endora, Willow and Tyris tried to calm the girl. Between sobs, she told them that her father had gone off on one of his adventures to the moathouse and never returned. He was supposed to be back three days ago, and he never left her alone to watch the shop for this long. She said that customers kept coming to her wanting their potions from Daddy, and she didn’t know what to say to them. She was frightened and sure something was wrong, and she couldn’t make anybody listen to her. The women were very understanding, and the girl finally stopped wailing and settled into a routine of rapid, shaky deep breaths.
Meanwhile, Tas and Gann were pulled off to the side by Elmo. He told them that Spugnoir, the local potion maker, tended to go off on silly “adventures” every few weeks to “protect us from the forces of evil that would undoubtedly return one day.” Elmo explained that Spugnoir had once been a brave adventurer, and he just couldn’t let the past die. Elmo proudly announced the he, himself, had been at the fall of the temple fifteen years ago and assured the men that the evil there had been permanently defeated, and the moathouse was destroyed. “Nothing more than an occasional cluster of hobgoblins holing up in the temple grounds... not worth getting all excited about it. They don’t bother us, we don’t bother them. Really, I want the people of this town to feel safe, so I don’t like it when Spugnoir goes on an on about the ‘return of evil forces’. I’d like to keep this quiet.”
Gann asked Elmo about Spugnoir’s latest adventure out to the moathouse. “To tell you the truth, Spugnoir’s never been gone this long. There’s nothing out there, so he always comes back within a day or two and announces that he’s assured our continued safety. This time, he has me a bit worried.”
“Oh, my god. He’s dead!” Tas announced loudly, inspiring a new round of convulsive wailing from the girl, whose name was Renne according to Elmo. The women glared at Tas viciously and went back to trying to ease the girl’s grief. At that time, the mercenary with the pipe stepped in to intervene.
With his throaty, accented whisper he stated, “My name is Chatrilon Unosh. Those who travel in my company often refer to me as ‘Chat’, though I don’t really care for the name myself. I am a roaming adventurer who decided to try my luck in the famed town of Hommlet. I’ve just come from this moathouse, of which the girl speaks, and I can assure you that there is nothing there, save a few rats. You’d be wasting your time looking for her father there.”
Elmo stated that this increased his worry further, as Spugnoir wasn’t known to ever travel beyond the area of the moathouse. “Yup, he’s dead alright!” bellowed Tas. Much wailing and gnashing of teeth ensued, accompanied by the venomous glares of Endora, Willow and Tyris.
Chatrilon said that he had gone by the Temple of Elemental Evil on his way into town about a week and a half ago. “The place is overrun by hobgoblins,” he said. “I wouldn’t mind traveling out there with you to take a few hobgoblin heads and look for this potion maker. If that is your decision, then my sword is with you.” Renne ran over to the men and started pounding on Elmo’s chest again.
“He’s NOT at the temple, he went to the moathouse like he always does. You have to go find him there. You HAVE to,” she screamed.
“The girl’s obviously upset and irrational,” Chatrilon said. “Isn’t there somebody that should be taking care of her while her father is still… unavailable? Like I said, I’ve been to the moathouse within the past three days, and it is empty. This man would not have run into anything dangerous there. I’ll be finishing my breakfast inside if you decide to go to the temple.” Chat left the conversation and went inside.
“Why yes,” Elmo replied. “Haunor is Spugnoir’s assistant. I’ll have someone take the girl to him while this… situation… is brought under control.”
The party gathered around Renne and assured her that they would find her father, and that everything would be just fine. A couple of the townsfolk came by to take Renne to Haunor, and Elmo ordered the rest of the crowd to disperse before taking his leave.
“I’m hungry,” announced Davok. They had forgotten, with all of the excitement of last evening and this morning, none of them had eaten. For the mighty Davok, and his even mightier appetite, this just would not do! The party adjourned to the common room of the Inn of the Welcome Wench to discuss their plans for finding Spugnoir over a hot breakfast. As they made their way to the only empty table, Gann took note of Chatrilon, who was eating his own breakfast at the counter.
After ordering, Endora expressed her distrust of the mercenary. She didn’t like his arrogant attitude, and she thought he was trying to hide something that may have been going on at the moathouse. Tyris and Willow agreed. Endora backed her opinion by stating that she detected a foul aura surrounding the man. She sensed evil in him. Davok and Gann ate in silence, and nobody had noticed that Tas was no longer seated at the table.
The stealthy halfling had crept, unnoticed, across the bustling tavern area and ducked under the counter by Chatrilon’s side. With fingers as light as a summer breeze, Tas popped open the belt pouch at Chatrilon’s hip, and took off in a hurry with the scroll that fell to the floor. The mercenary never turned his attention away from his morning meal.
Tas scurried back into his seat at the table and joined back in the conversation. “Yep,” he said. “I vote that we most definitely should not ask that Chat fellow to join us. In fact, I say we should leave very quickly, as soon as I finish… hey, where’s my breakfast?” Davok leaned to the side and covered his mouth in an unsuccessful attempt to stifle the large belch that came as a result of his hearty double meal.
After breakfast, the companions headed across the bridge to the Old Trading Post. Most of them had already been there once this week to re-stock after the long journey to Hommlet. Joman Dart met them at the counter, and the gruff old halfling scurried around his shop gathering the items requested by the party. He never stopped making wisecracks about the “adventuresome tourists” who kept his coffers full stocking up for their fruitless quests around Hommlet and the defunct Temple of Elemental Evil.
After replenishing their ammunition and rations, the Order of the Eagle, along with their new friends Gann and Tyris, marched back across the bridge and out of town. In their quest to discover the whereabouts of the missing potion maker, they hoped to find some clue as to the whereabouts of their mentor, The Eagle.
