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<blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 7107474" data-attributes="member: 143"><p>Chapter 31</p><p></p><p>The back room of the Gray Oak Inn was quite cozy and comfortable, even though it was a bit crowded at the moment. The members of Northpine’s village council sat along one side of the large oval table that dominated the room, facing the strangers who had offered their aid tracking the missing boy.</p><p></p><p>However, it was becoming clear that there was no consensus on exactly how to do that.</p><p></p><p>“We’ve had trouble with bandits in the Kilmar Hills before,” Laddrick was saying. “We know we’re far off the beaten path, and there are back roads and trails that never see a patrol. Over the last few months we’ve heard reports of travelers that have gone missing, and only two weeks ago one of our local hunters was found dead with an arrow in his chest.”</p><p></p><p>“Romon Cordrim,” Mayor Greenswald said. The elected leader of the council was a retired farmer, still hale despite the fact that he had at least a decade on Laddrick and had clearly spent a life at hard labor outdoors. Thus far he’d been content to let the others do most of the talking.</p><p></p><p>“Yes,” Laddrick said. “So you can see why there’s a sense of alarm here.”</p><p></p><p>“Why would bandits grab a child?” Glori asked. “Ransom?”</p><p></p><p>“We haven’t received any contacts or demands,” Comoran said. The cleric of Sorevas was younger than he’d looked at first glance, though the others had said he’d been the resident priest for the last three years. “And the Garsons don’t have much.” As he spoke he glanced over at Derik Anthernon. Anthernon was what passed for a local lord, the patriarch of a family that held an estate on the east side of town. Half of the farmers in the village were his tenants. He sat at the end of the table and seemed a bit bored.</p><p></p><p>“So a search through the hills would seem to be the most likely course,” Laddrick said.</p><p></p><p>“Why haven’t you conducted such a search yourselves?” Kosk asked. The dwarf had deliberately seated himself in one of the armchairs next to the hearth rather than with the crowd at the table, but they had no difficulty hearing him.</p><p></p><p>“The hill country’s dangerous,” the final member of the council said. Olag Beedlebrim had the <em>look</em> of an innkeeper, down to the stout frame, bulging belly, and the stained apron. He hadn’t chosen one of the chairs but was standing near the door, frequently dry-washing his hands in a nervous gesture. “We are all in the militia, and participate in the monthly drills, but of the permanent residents only Sheriff Laddrick and Derik’s man Colum have professional training at arms.”</p><p></p><p>Anthernon tapped his ringed fingers lightly on the table, drawing the attention of the room to him. “While I share the ambition to rid our hills of vermin, especially if said task is to be performed by generous strangers, perhaps a more local search might be more profitable in actually finding the boy.”</p><p></p><p>“You’re talking about the Kaseen estate,” Greenswald said.</p><p></p><p>“It’s well known that your family has had a long-standing interest in the property,” Laddrick said. “Could that be the reason for the suggestion?”</p><p></p><p>“Perhaps you should give our guests the background, and let them decide for themselves,” Anthernon said.</p><p></p><p>The story turned out to be one of those local scandals that most communities had buried in their histories. The Kaseen had been a notable clan in the region until twenty years ago, when the entire family was found slaughtered in the estate house. Those responsible had never been identified. Since then the place had been left abandoned, though more recent events had contributed to a growing legend that the place was haunted. Ten years ago a group of four squatters had been found dead in the cellar, without a mark on them. And three years ago, a handful of older boys from the village had visited the site on a dare. While they didn’t find any ghosts, later three of them came down with a fever and two died. Since then the estate had been off-limits, even though it had ample cleared fields and a mostly-intact watermill close to the site.</p><p></p><p>“Why would the missing child go there, if it is forbidden?” Quellan asked.</p><p></p><p>“Obviously you have not spent much company with young boys,” Glori said dryly.</p><p></p><p>“Has anyone talked to his friends?” Bredan asked.</p><p></p><p>“Yes, extensively,” Laddrick said. “I interviewed half of the people in the village myself. No one had any indication that Caric had expressed any interest in the Kaseen estate.” He turned to the priest. “Cormoran?”</p><p></p><p>The young man frowned. “If there are malevolent spirits there, it is possible that they might have been able to lure the boy there.”</p><p></p><p>“It’s also possible that the boy’s bones are lying in some animal’s den,” Kosk said.</p><p></p><p>The look the villagers shared indicated that the thought had occurred to them. “Look, I’ll admit that even if Caric is dead, I—we—have an interest in clearing the hills of bandits…” Laddrick began. But he was interrupted by a commotion from outside, quickly followed by a man bursting into the room. The swinging door almost struck the innkeeper, who stumbled back out of the way.</p><p></p><p>The new arrival was a man who wore the ink-stained robes of a scholar. He was maybe fifty, his neatly-trimmed beard belying an otherwise disordered appearance, as if he’d just gotten up out of bed. He was engaged in an angry exchange with a younger man who wore a chain shirt and a short sword, and who had apparently tried to keep him from barging into the meeting.</p><p></p><p>“Nordrum, this is a private meeting of the village council,” Laddrick said.</p><p></p><p>“Yes, but what I have to say may be germane to your deliberations,” the scholar said. “I entreat just a few moments of this august body’s time.”</p><p></p><p>“Let me guess, you have a theory of where the boy went,” Kosk muttered, but quietly enough that none of the others head him.</p><p></p><p>“Oh, very well,” Greenswald said.</p><p></p><p>The guard turned to Anthernon. “Sorry, sir, he got past me.”</p><p></p><p>“It’s all right, Colum,” the lordling said.</p><p></p><p>When the guard had closed the door the scholar straightened his robe and nodded to the four adventurers, turning a full circle to include Kosk in his greeting. “You have come to assist in the search for the missing boy?” Without waiting for a response he went on, “I believe he might have wandered to a ruin in the local area…”</p><p></p><p>Several of the other councilors let out audible groans at that. Nordrum tried to continue, but Anthernon said, “You’ve been trying for months to find someone to loot that ruin for you. There’s nothing there, just some old rubble.”</p><p></p><p>The sage drew himself up, all affronted dignity. “You speak of matters of which you do not comprehend. There is an eldritch power within that ruin, a magic beyond the ken of modern understanding…”</p><p></p><p>As the sage spoke, Bredan, Glori, and Quellan shared a look. “That sounds familiar,” the bard said quietly.</p><p></p><p>“Nordrum,” Laddrick said. “If you do not have any evidence, real evidence, that the boy might have traveled to those old ruins...”</p><p></p><p>“I have as much evidence as any of you,” the sage said.</p><p></p><p>“He’s got you there,” Kosk piped up from his corner.</p><p></p><p>“Look,” Quellan said. “Why don’t we go over all of the available options, including everything that you’ve learned from talking to the village folk. We should also speak to the boy’s mother. Then we’ll decide where to proceed from there.”</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Lazybones, post: 7107474, member: 143"] Chapter 31 The back room of the Gray Oak Inn was quite cozy and comfortable, even though it was a bit crowded at the moment. The members of Northpine’s village council sat along one side of the large oval table that dominated the room, facing the strangers who had offered their aid tracking the missing boy. However, it was becoming clear that there was no consensus on exactly how to do that. “We’ve had trouble with bandits in the Kilmar Hills before,” Laddrick was saying. “We know we’re far off the beaten path, and there are back roads and trails that never see a patrol. Over the last few months we’ve heard reports of travelers that have gone missing, and only two weeks ago one of our local hunters was found dead with an arrow in his chest.” “Romon Cordrim,” Mayor Greenswald said. The elected leader of the council was a retired farmer, still hale despite the fact that he had at least a decade on Laddrick and had clearly spent a life at hard labor outdoors. Thus far he’d been content to let the others do most of the talking. “Yes,” Laddrick said. “So you can see why there’s a sense of alarm here.” “Why would bandits grab a child?” Glori asked. “Ransom?” “We haven’t received any contacts or demands,” Comoran said. The cleric of Sorevas was younger than he’d looked at first glance, though the others had said he’d been the resident priest for the last three years. “And the Garsons don’t have much.” As he spoke he glanced over at Derik Anthernon. Anthernon was what passed for a local lord, the patriarch of a family that held an estate on the east side of town. Half of the farmers in the village were his tenants. He sat at the end of the table and seemed a bit bored. “So a search through the hills would seem to be the most likely course,” Laddrick said. “Why haven’t you conducted such a search yourselves?” Kosk asked. The dwarf had deliberately seated himself in one of the armchairs next to the hearth rather than with the crowd at the table, but they had no difficulty hearing him. “The hill country’s dangerous,” the final member of the council said. Olag Beedlebrim had the [i]look[/i] of an innkeeper, down to the stout frame, bulging belly, and the stained apron. He hadn’t chosen one of the chairs but was standing near the door, frequently dry-washing his hands in a nervous gesture. “We are all in the militia, and participate in the monthly drills, but of the permanent residents only Sheriff Laddrick and Derik’s man Colum have professional training at arms.” Anthernon tapped his ringed fingers lightly on the table, drawing the attention of the room to him. “While I share the ambition to rid our hills of vermin, especially if said task is to be performed by generous strangers, perhaps a more local search might be more profitable in actually finding the boy.” “You’re talking about the Kaseen estate,” Greenswald said. “It’s well known that your family has had a long-standing interest in the property,” Laddrick said. “Could that be the reason for the suggestion?” “Perhaps you should give our guests the background, and let them decide for themselves,” Anthernon said. The story turned out to be one of those local scandals that most communities had buried in their histories. The Kaseen had been a notable clan in the region until twenty years ago, when the entire family was found slaughtered in the estate house. Those responsible had never been identified. Since then the place had been left abandoned, though more recent events had contributed to a growing legend that the place was haunted. Ten years ago a group of four squatters had been found dead in the cellar, without a mark on them. And three years ago, a handful of older boys from the village had visited the site on a dare. While they didn’t find any ghosts, later three of them came down with a fever and two died. Since then the estate had been off-limits, even though it had ample cleared fields and a mostly-intact watermill close to the site. “Why would the missing child go there, if it is forbidden?” Quellan asked. “Obviously you have not spent much company with young boys,” Glori said dryly. “Has anyone talked to his friends?” Bredan asked. “Yes, extensively,” Laddrick said. “I interviewed half of the people in the village myself. No one had any indication that Caric had expressed any interest in the Kaseen estate.” He turned to the priest. “Cormoran?” The young man frowned. “If there are malevolent spirits there, it is possible that they might have been able to lure the boy there.” “It’s also possible that the boy’s bones are lying in some animal’s den,” Kosk said. The look the villagers shared indicated that the thought had occurred to them. “Look, I’ll admit that even if Caric is dead, I—we—have an interest in clearing the hills of bandits…” Laddrick began. But he was interrupted by a commotion from outside, quickly followed by a man bursting into the room. The swinging door almost struck the innkeeper, who stumbled back out of the way. The new arrival was a man who wore the ink-stained robes of a scholar. He was maybe fifty, his neatly-trimmed beard belying an otherwise disordered appearance, as if he’d just gotten up out of bed. He was engaged in an angry exchange with a younger man who wore a chain shirt and a short sword, and who had apparently tried to keep him from barging into the meeting. “Nordrum, this is a private meeting of the village council,” Laddrick said. “Yes, but what I have to say may be germane to your deliberations,” the scholar said. “I entreat just a few moments of this august body’s time.” “Let me guess, you have a theory of where the boy went,” Kosk muttered, but quietly enough that none of the others head him. “Oh, very well,” Greenswald said. The guard turned to Anthernon. “Sorry, sir, he got past me.” “It’s all right, Colum,” the lordling said. When the guard had closed the door the scholar straightened his robe and nodded to the four adventurers, turning a full circle to include Kosk in his greeting. “You have come to assist in the search for the missing boy?” Without waiting for a response he went on, “I believe he might have wandered to a ruin in the local area…” Several of the other councilors let out audible groans at that. Nordrum tried to continue, but Anthernon said, “You’ve been trying for months to find someone to loot that ruin for you. There’s nothing there, just some old rubble.” The sage drew himself up, all affronted dignity. “You speak of matters of which you do not comprehend. There is an eldritch power within that ruin, a magic beyond the ken of modern understanding…” As the sage spoke, Bredan, Glori, and Quellan shared a look. “That sounds familiar,” the bard said quietly. “Nordrum,” Laddrick said. “If you do not have any evidence, real evidence, that the boy might have traveled to those old ruins...” “I have as much evidence as any of you,” the sage said. “He’s got you there,” Kosk piped up from his corner. “Look,” Quellan said. “Why don’t we go over all of the available options, including everything that you’ve learned from talking to the village folk. We should also speak to the boy’s mother. Then we’ll decide where to proceed from there.” [/QUOTE]
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