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<blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 7105289" data-attributes="member: 143"><p>Chapter 30</p><p></p><p>Northpine didn’t look like much at first glance.</p><p></p><p>They smelled the village before they saw it, the familiar tang of wood smoke underlaid with the more tantalizing smells of cooking. Those smells added a spring to tired legs at the prospect of a lunch that didn’t come from their preserved rations.</p><p></p><p>The road took them around a gentle curve that navigated between two lightly forested hills, and then the village was spread out in front of them. It wasn’t very large, maybe two dozen assorted wooden structures scattered among a patchwork of fields full of ripe crops and pastures where animals cropped the rich summer grass. There was no wall around the village, but the companions could see the subtle signs of the frontier in the narrow windows and reinforced doors on the houses. Most of the roofs were thatch, though several larger structures in the center of the settlement had shingle roofs and actual glass in the windows, suggesting at least a general prosperity.</p><p></p><p>There was a crowd that had to represent a considerable percentage of the village’s population gathered in front of one of those buildings. A few men standing on its raised porch were addressing the crowd. The adventurers were too far away to hear what was being said, though they could feel the general sense of disquiet in the scene.</p><p></p><p>“I wonder what’s going on down there?” Bredan asked.</p><p></p><p>“None of our business,” Kosk said.</p><p></p><p>“Are you guys from the Baron?”</p><p></p><p>They all turned to the side of the road, where a human boy they somehow hadn’t noticed emerged from the shade of a tall oak tree. He couldn’t have been more than ten or eleven, and was dressed in simple clothes that bore the usual allotment of stains and rips typical for one his age.</p><p></p><p>“Didn’t your mother ever teach you not to talk to strangers?” Kosk growled. His growl deepened when Glori reached out and smacked him on the arm.</p><p></p><p>“We’re not with the local baron,” she told the boy. “We’re not even sure who the local baron is, actually. We’re headed north to answer the summons from the King.”</p><p></p><p>The boy looked disappointed. “Yeah, they said it would be at least a week, but I thought maybe you might be sent to help.”</p><p></p><p>“What’s happening here?” Quellan asked. “Why do you need help?”</p><p></p><p>If the boy was fazed by the half-orc’s appearance he didn’t show it as he hurried forward to join them. “It’s Caric,” he said. “He’s gone missing.”</p><p></p><p>“Not our business,” Kosk muttered, but this time the comment was barely audible.</p><p></p><p>“Who’s Caric?” Glori asked. “Is he a friend of yours?”</p><p></p><p>“He’s just a kid,” the boy said.</p><p></p><p>“As opposed to…” Bredan said, but Glori silenced him with a look. “I’m Glori, and this is Bredan, Quellan, and Kosk. What’s your name?”</p><p></p><p>“I’m Indel.”</p><p></p><p>“And how long has Caric been missing?”</p><p></p><p>“A couple of days. They sent word to the Baron for help, but they said it would be a week until we heard anything back, since he’s way over in Eastfork.”</p><p></p><p>“Who’s ‘they’?” Quellan asked.</p><p></p><p>“The local council. Come on, I can show you.”</p><p></p><p>It seemed obvious where they were going, but they let the boy lead them. Glori asked him a few more questions about the missing child, but Indel wasn’t able to add much more information. Caric and his mother lived together on the outskirts of the village, and there hadn’t been any signs of a violent abduction or an unfortunate run-in with some passing predator. Apparently such encounters were not unheard of, which explained the local architecture.</p><p></p><p>Their arrival created a bit of a stir. There were almost a hundred people gathered in the village center, and their looks of uncertainty and worry were not eased by the arrival of the four armed strangers. Indel walked with them, no doubt soaking up the adulation of his peers for being associated with such notable visitors, until a woman who was obviously his mother rushed forward from the crowd and pulled him away.</p><p></p><p>The villagers drew back as the adventurers approached, leaving an open route to the men waiting on the porch of what appeared to be the local inn. The other structures around the village core were typical and included a smithy, a general store, a small stone temple that bore the sun sigil of Sorevas, and a handful of houses. It looked as though almost everyone in the village was present here.</p><p></p><p>Many of the whispers that went through the crowd were accompanied by alarmed glances at Quellan in particular, but the half-orc pretended not to notice and led them straight toward the waiting notables. The local leaders were all humans, though there was a dwarf clad in the familiar attire of a smith in the forefront of the crowd who watched their approach with interest. Another man in a robe who had to be the local priest recognized Quellan’s sigil and whispered something to his neighbor, a young man in rich clothes who wore several silver rings on his fingers.</p><p></p><p>One of the leaders, a man in his fifties who wore a sword on his hip, came down the porch steps to meet them. “I’m Erron Laddrick, the local constable,” he said. “Who might you be?”</p><p></p><p>“My name is Quellan Emberlane,” the cleric said. “My companions and I are headed north in response to the King’s call.”</p><p></p><p>Laddrick nodded; obviously news of the proclamation had reached this village. “So you’re just passing through?”</p><p></p><p>Quellan looked at each of his companions in turn. Kosk looked sour but resigned, Bredan uncertain. But Glori showed no doubt whatsoever as she stepped forward and said, “Actually, we’re here to help.”</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Lazybones, post: 7105289, member: 143"] Chapter 30 Northpine didn’t look like much at first glance. They smelled the village before they saw it, the familiar tang of wood smoke underlaid with the more tantalizing smells of cooking. Those smells added a spring to tired legs at the prospect of a lunch that didn’t come from their preserved rations. The road took them around a gentle curve that navigated between two lightly forested hills, and then the village was spread out in front of them. It wasn’t very large, maybe two dozen assorted wooden structures scattered among a patchwork of fields full of ripe crops and pastures where animals cropped the rich summer grass. There was no wall around the village, but the companions could see the subtle signs of the frontier in the narrow windows and reinforced doors on the houses. Most of the roofs were thatch, though several larger structures in the center of the settlement had shingle roofs and actual glass in the windows, suggesting at least a general prosperity. There was a crowd that had to represent a considerable percentage of the village’s population gathered in front of one of those buildings. A few men standing on its raised porch were addressing the crowd. The adventurers were too far away to hear what was being said, though they could feel the general sense of disquiet in the scene. “I wonder what’s going on down there?” Bredan asked. “None of our business,” Kosk said. “Are you guys from the Baron?” They all turned to the side of the road, where a human boy they somehow hadn’t noticed emerged from the shade of a tall oak tree. He couldn’t have been more than ten or eleven, and was dressed in simple clothes that bore the usual allotment of stains and rips typical for one his age. “Didn’t your mother ever teach you not to talk to strangers?” Kosk growled. His growl deepened when Glori reached out and smacked him on the arm. “We’re not with the local baron,” she told the boy. “We’re not even sure who the local baron is, actually. We’re headed north to answer the summons from the King.” The boy looked disappointed. “Yeah, they said it would be at least a week, but I thought maybe you might be sent to help.” “What’s happening here?” Quellan asked. “Why do you need help?” If the boy was fazed by the half-orc’s appearance he didn’t show it as he hurried forward to join them. “It’s Caric,” he said. “He’s gone missing.” “Not our business,” Kosk muttered, but this time the comment was barely audible. “Who’s Caric?” Glori asked. “Is he a friend of yours?” “He’s just a kid,” the boy said. “As opposed to…” Bredan said, but Glori silenced him with a look. “I’m Glori, and this is Bredan, Quellan, and Kosk. What’s your name?” “I’m Indel.” “And how long has Caric been missing?” “A couple of days. They sent word to the Baron for help, but they said it would be a week until we heard anything back, since he’s way over in Eastfork.” “Who’s ‘they’?” Quellan asked. “The local council. Come on, I can show you.” It seemed obvious where they were going, but they let the boy lead them. Glori asked him a few more questions about the missing child, but Indel wasn’t able to add much more information. Caric and his mother lived together on the outskirts of the village, and there hadn’t been any signs of a violent abduction or an unfortunate run-in with some passing predator. Apparently such encounters were not unheard of, which explained the local architecture. Their arrival created a bit of a stir. There were almost a hundred people gathered in the village center, and their looks of uncertainty and worry were not eased by the arrival of the four armed strangers. Indel walked with them, no doubt soaking up the adulation of his peers for being associated with such notable visitors, until a woman who was obviously his mother rushed forward from the crowd and pulled him away. The villagers drew back as the adventurers approached, leaving an open route to the men waiting on the porch of what appeared to be the local inn. The other structures around the village core were typical and included a smithy, a general store, a small stone temple that bore the sun sigil of Sorevas, and a handful of houses. It looked as though almost everyone in the village was present here. Many of the whispers that went through the crowd were accompanied by alarmed glances at Quellan in particular, but the half-orc pretended not to notice and led them straight toward the waiting notables. The local leaders were all humans, though there was a dwarf clad in the familiar attire of a smith in the forefront of the crowd who watched their approach with interest. Another man in a robe who had to be the local priest recognized Quellan’s sigil and whispered something to his neighbor, a young man in rich clothes who wore several silver rings on his fingers. One of the leaders, a man in his fifties who wore a sword on his hip, came down the porch steps to meet them. “I’m Erron Laddrick, the local constable,” he said. “Who might you be?” “My name is Quellan Emberlane,” the cleric said. “My companions and I are headed north in response to the King’s call.” Laddrick nodded; obviously news of the proclamation had reached this village. “So you’re just passing through?” Quellan looked at each of his companions in turn. Kosk looked sour but resigned, Bredan uncertain. But Glori showed no doubt whatsoever as she stepped forward and said, “Actually, we’re here to help.” [/QUOTE]
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