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<blockquote data-quote="Sir Brennen" data-source="post: 2033646" data-attributes="member: 553"><p><strong>April 24th 998</strong></p><p></p><p><span style="color: Sandybrown"><strong>[Session 4 Feb 6th '05]</strong></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 22px"><span style="color: Wheat">W</span></span>e reached the limits of Elmvale just a bit past noon. The town appeared small, perhaps five hundred or so, if you included the farmhouses we past scattered along the way. There was no defensive wall, and we came in by the north road unchallenged.</p><p></p><p>Leading Bob the pony down the center of town, a large sign hanging prominently over the steps of a squat building caught our eyes. A dog and rabbit chasing each other in an endless circle were painted on it, with a stein and plate of something I guess was suppose to be food depicted in the middle. Figuring this local tavern would be the best place to feel out the locals about the Viscount Stephen Maltus who might have our clock, we headed over.</p><p></p><p>A burly looking human walked out of the building rather quickly. His manner was such that we paused a moment to see if something might be going on. Charlotte recognized the barred shield symbol on the man's tabard, and whispered to us that it was the crest of the Baron Streibech, though she did not think it was the baron himself. He was starting to cross the street with long strides when the tavern door swung open again and another man, this one a bit of a dandy, came running out.</p><p></p><p>"Wait!" he yelled after the bigger man.</p><p></p><p>The baron's man stopped besides a horse tethered opposite the tavern. "I'm just the messenger, Lord Blaine," he said, hoisting himself into his saddle. "Any further discussion, you'll have to take it up with the Baron."</p><p></p><p>The other man kept right on talking. "I know what this is about.” He held his fancy hat in his hand as if he were begging for coins. "But I swear I didn't know it was his daughter!"</p><p></p><p>This caused a sour look to pass over the mounted man's face. "Like I said, you'll have to take it up with the Baron. He'll be expecting you, day after next." With that, he spurred his horse like he couldn't get away from the dandy fast enough.</p><p></p><p>Sensing an opening that I apparently must have missed, Father Al sauntered up to the man, who was still standing there, staring into his hat. Seeming at a loss for a conversation starter, Al asked for directions to the local tavern. Glaring at him, the fop said, "You're standing in front of it. The Hound and Hare." With that he stormed past the priest and back into the establishment.</p><p></p><p>Father Al looked at us and shrugged his shoulders, and we all headed inside. </p><p></p><p>It looked like several farmers and business owners were taking an early afternoon break, because the place was pretty packed. Lord Blaine was seated at the bar, head down on the counter, an empty shot glass in front of him. Determined, Father Al took a seat next to him. Charlotte and Marcus wove between the tables, greeting people as they passed, trying to chat up the locals. Barrick and I sat down at the first empty table we could find, and ordered lunch. After being on the road all morning, talk could wait.</p><p></p><p>Glancing up to the bar, I could see Father Al was getting nothing but terse responses from the dandy, who had knocked back a couple more whiskeys during the conversation. After it looked like he wasn't going to get anything more from him, Al turned to the bartender and asked, loud enough for the rest of the room to hear, I suppose, if he knew where we might find the Viscount Maltus. The barkeep seemed to just shake his head, and turned back to arranging the bottles behind the bar. </p><p></p><p>The silk-shirted Lord Blaine, fairly stable despite the whiskies, got off his barstool and sat down with at a nearby table with some of the locals. The rest of our fellow travelers joined our table just as the barmaid was bringing the second half of our chicken, with extra boiled potatoes. Father Al sat down first, telling us he struck out twice in trying to get any information. </p><p></p><p>As the siblings approached, Charlotte leaned over and asked our priest "So, how did your conversation with the Viscount go?" Al looked at her in surprise then clapped his hand to his forehead. It seems, Charlotte and Marcus had found, that Stephen Maltus had passed away recently, and Blaine was his heir. Hopefully Father Al hadn't blown it for us already with his subtlety.</p><p></p><p>Once everyone was seated, we finished our meal while watching Blaine work the room himself. He was asking, almost begging, for help with something, but each table he spoke with good-naturedly turned him down. Eventually he walked back up to the bar and dejectedly ordered another whiskey.</p><p></p><p>Charlotte glanced over at Father Al again and said, "Let me try." She walked up to the bar and gingerly eased onto the stool next to Blaine. At first it looked like she was getting the same cold shoulder as Father Al, but her continued conversation must have hit something, because he finally spared a glance back at us as if considering his options. Barrick saluted with his stein.</p><p></p><p>Finally, Blaine let Charlotte lead him by the arm over to our table. Gotta give her credit; she wasn't nearly as smug as she coulda been about finally getting the guy over to meet us. I, on the other hand, still wasn't sure that getting involved with this guy's problems, his sleeping with the wrong woman, was something we were in a position to help out with. But then he told us his story.</p><p></p><p>When his father died, Blaine, of course, inherited his holdings. In human custom, such gains are subject to taxes it seems, though traditionally a fair amount of time is given to pay up. Our friend here wasn't on the best terms with the Baron, however, and he had until the day after next to make good on the taxes.</p><p></p><p>Blaine did not have that kind of money on hand, but he had a plan. Seems that the Maltus' family had another piece of property outside of town that had been abandoned a couple hundred years ago. At that time there had been some sort of tragedy and everyone on the grounds had been killed. The house had been given up on as being haunted.</p><p></p><p>However, there was a persistent rumor of a vault hidden somewhere on the grounds, magical in nature, which contained the family fortune. At mention of this, Barrick and I exchanged knowing glances. Over the years adventurous individuals had gone in search of the vault. Some had been frightened away; many simply did not return. </p><p></p><p>Blaine had taken a few friends with him to the old manor about a week ago. As they approached, they spotted a figure in the window of the second floor, illuminated by a candle it was carrying. They went into the house, heading upstairs first to investigate. There was a room with a message scrawled in fresh blood - "I shall not rest until all my kin rest with me" - but no sign of anyone in the rooms. </p><p></p><p>They could hear that something spooked their horses outside. One of his friends headed downstairs to investigate, and from the great room below, they heard him scream. Rushing to the spot, Blaine's friend was gone, but another message was left, reading "Soon, dear cousin, I come for you." The group retreated from the house, and he had not been able to get anyone else to go back with him since.</p><p></p><p>Barrick immediately jumped into the business portion of our meeting, negotiating for any "loose" items in the house Blaine did not declare family heirlooms, plus ten percent of whatever was in the vault. The Viscount seemed a little uncertain, particularly since he didn't appear to know exactly what was in the vault, but finally agreed.</p><p></p><p>We only had a few hours before dark, and the haunted estate was a good ten miles away. Though time was pressing, we decided against trying to explore the manor at night. Travelling most of the distance and camping off the grounds tonight would save us some travel time, though. Before we left, however, Father Al wanted to visit the local One Church and see if he could get some magical scrolls that might be useful.</p><p></p><p>There was a small chapel to the new god in Elmvale. It was tended by a priest so old that I would be surprised if he knew which way to face when he oversaw services. Father Gregory, as he was called, seemed a little confused by Al's request initially, but finally rummaged through his desk and came up with everything Al had asked for. For a suitable donation, of course, which Barrick and I dipped into our pockets to provide.</p><p></p><p>We met up with Lord Blaine, who had changed into a respectable looking set of chainmail, surprising us a bit. He had not brought a horse, he explained, since we were not mounted, and also the last time their horses had all been scared off. We still towed Bob along with our gear, anyway.</p><p></p><p>As we began trekking out across the country with the couple of hours of daylight we had left, it began to rain. Sometime after sunset, we came within sight of the estate; a two-story wooden structure with a low wall and collection of out buildings in the back. A tower rose another level off the northwest corner. We found some trees to shelter us from the worst of the rain, and made camp.</p><p></p><p>Sometime in the night, Father Al was rousing me for my watch, but as I bleary looked around to see who was up and who was still sleeping, I grumbled that it was Barrick and Charlotte's watch next, and laid back down. I could hear some discussion between Father Al and Blaine about waking up Barrick, and cracked my eyes open to watch as our employer, gently shaking my fellow dwarf awake, was rewarded with a crack in the nose. I opened my eyes a little wider, as Barrick gruffly mumbled something passing for an apology, explaining he had told the priest he had better not wake him again. Earlier that evening, Father Al had done so to let Barrick know that he had seen a light in the upper story of the manor. Apparently Barrick hadn't been too impressed. </p><p></p><p>Chuckling a little to myself, I rolled over and went back to sleep.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Sir Brennen, post: 2033646, member: 553"] [b]April 24th 998[/b] [color=Sandybrown][b][Session 4 Feb 6th '05][/b][/color] [size=6][color=Wheat]W[/color][/size]e reached the limits of Elmvale just a bit past noon. The town appeared small, perhaps five hundred or so, if you included the farmhouses we past scattered along the way. There was no defensive wall, and we came in by the north road unchallenged. Leading Bob the pony down the center of town, a large sign hanging prominently over the steps of a squat building caught our eyes. A dog and rabbit chasing each other in an endless circle were painted on it, with a stein and plate of something I guess was suppose to be food depicted in the middle. Figuring this local tavern would be the best place to feel out the locals about the Viscount Stephen Maltus who might have our clock, we headed over. A burly looking human walked out of the building rather quickly. His manner was such that we paused a moment to see if something might be going on. Charlotte recognized the barred shield symbol on the man's tabard, and whispered to us that it was the crest of the Baron Streibech, though she did not think it was the baron himself. He was starting to cross the street with long strides when the tavern door swung open again and another man, this one a bit of a dandy, came running out. "Wait!" he yelled after the bigger man. The baron's man stopped besides a horse tethered opposite the tavern. "I'm just the messenger, Lord Blaine," he said, hoisting himself into his saddle. "Any further discussion, you'll have to take it up with the Baron." The other man kept right on talking. "I know what this is about.” He held his fancy hat in his hand as if he were begging for coins. "But I swear I didn't know it was his daughter!" This caused a sour look to pass over the mounted man's face. "Like I said, you'll have to take it up with the Baron. He'll be expecting you, day after next." With that, he spurred his horse like he couldn't get away from the dandy fast enough. Sensing an opening that I apparently must have missed, Father Al sauntered up to the man, who was still standing there, staring into his hat. Seeming at a loss for a conversation starter, Al asked for directions to the local tavern. Glaring at him, the fop said, "You're standing in front of it. The Hound and Hare." With that he stormed past the priest and back into the establishment. Father Al looked at us and shrugged his shoulders, and we all headed inside. It looked like several farmers and business owners were taking an early afternoon break, because the place was pretty packed. Lord Blaine was seated at the bar, head down on the counter, an empty shot glass in front of him. Determined, Father Al took a seat next to him. Charlotte and Marcus wove between the tables, greeting people as they passed, trying to chat up the locals. Barrick and I sat down at the first empty table we could find, and ordered lunch. After being on the road all morning, talk could wait. Glancing up to the bar, I could see Father Al was getting nothing but terse responses from the dandy, who had knocked back a couple more whiskeys during the conversation. After it looked like he wasn't going to get anything more from him, Al turned to the bartender and asked, loud enough for the rest of the room to hear, I suppose, if he knew where we might find the Viscount Maltus. The barkeep seemed to just shake his head, and turned back to arranging the bottles behind the bar. The silk-shirted Lord Blaine, fairly stable despite the whiskies, got off his barstool and sat down with at a nearby table with some of the locals. The rest of our fellow travelers joined our table just as the barmaid was bringing the second half of our chicken, with extra boiled potatoes. Father Al sat down first, telling us he struck out twice in trying to get any information. As the siblings approached, Charlotte leaned over and asked our priest "So, how did your conversation with the Viscount go?" Al looked at her in surprise then clapped his hand to his forehead. It seems, Charlotte and Marcus had found, that Stephen Maltus had passed away recently, and Blaine was his heir. Hopefully Father Al hadn't blown it for us already with his subtlety. Once everyone was seated, we finished our meal while watching Blaine work the room himself. He was asking, almost begging, for help with something, but each table he spoke with good-naturedly turned him down. Eventually he walked back up to the bar and dejectedly ordered another whiskey. Charlotte glanced over at Father Al again and said, "Let me try." She walked up to the bar and gingerly eased onto the stool next to Blaine. At first it looked like she was getting the same cold shoulder as Father Al, but her continued conversation must have hit something, because he finally spared a glance back at us as if considering his options. Barrick saluted with his stein. Finally, Blaine let Charlotte lead him by the arm over to our table. Gotta give her credit; she wasn't nearly as smug as she coulda been about finally getting the guy over to meet us. I, on the other hand, still wasn't sure that getting involved with this guy's problems, his sleeping with the wrong woman, was something we were in a position to help out with. But then he told us his story. When his father died, Blaine, of course, inherited his holdings. In human custom, such gains are subject to taxes it seems, though traditionally a fair amount of time is given to pay up. Our friend here wasn't on the best terms with the Baron, however, and he had until the day after next to make good on the taxes. Blaine did not have that kind of money on hand, but he had a plan. Seems that the Maltus' family had another piece of property outside of town that had been abandoned a couple hundred years ago. At that time there had been some sort of tragedy and everyone on the grounds had been killed. The house had been given up on as being haunted. However, there was a persistent rumor of a vault hidden somewhere on the grounds, magical in nature, which contained the family fortune. At mention of this, Barrick and I exchanged knowing glances. Over the years adventurous individuals had gone in search of the vault. Some had been frightened away; many simply did not return. Blaine had taken a few friends with him to the old manor about a week ago. As they approached, they spotted a figure in the window of the second floor, illuminated by a candle it was carrying. They went into the house, heading upstairs first to investigate. There was a room with a message scrawled in fresh blood - "I shall not rest until all my kin rest with me" - but no sign of anyone in the rooms. They could hear that something spooked their horses outside. One of his friends headed downstairs to investigate, and from the great room below, they heard him scream. Rushing to the spot, Blaine's friend was gone, but another message was left, reading "Soon, dear cousin, I come for you." The group retreated from the house, and he had not been able to get anyone else to go back with him since. Barrick immediately jumped into the business portion of our meeting, negotiating for any "loose" items in the house Blaine did not declare family heirlooms, plus ten percent of whatever was in the vault. The Viscount seemed a little uncertain, particularly since he didn't appear to know exactly what was in the vault, but finally agreed. We only had a few hours before dark, and the haunted estate was a good ten miles away. Though time was pressing, we decided against trying to explore the manor at night. Travelling most of the distance and camping off the grounds tonight would save us some travel time, though. Before we left, however, Father Al wanted to visit the local One Church and see if he could get some magical scrolls that might be useful. There was a small chapel to the new god in Elmvale. It was tended by a priest so old that I would be surprised if he knew which way to face when he oversaw services. Father Gregory, as he was called, seemed a little confused by Al's request initially, but finally rummaged through his desk and came up with everything Al had asked for. For a suitable donation, of course, which Barrick and I dipped into our pockets to provide. We met up with Lord Blaine, who had changed into a respectable looking set of chainmail, surprising us a bit. He had not brought a horse, he explained, since we were not mounted, and also the last time their horses had all been scared off. We still towed Bob along with our gear, anyway. As we began trekking out across the country with the couple of hours of daylight we had left, it began to rain. Sometime after sunset, we came within sight of the estate; a two-story wooden structure with a low wall and collection of out buildings in the back. A tower rose another level off the northwest corner. We found some trees to shelter us from the worst of the rain, and made camp. Sometime in the night, Father Al was rousing me for my watch, but as I bleary looked around to see who was up and who was still sleeping, I grumbled that it was Barrick and Charlotte's watch next, and laid back down. I could hear some discussion between Father Al and Blaine about waking up Barrick, and cracked my eyes open to watch as our employer, gently shaking my fellow dwarf awake, was rewarded with a crack in the nose. I opened my eyes a little wider, as Barrick gruffly mumbled something passing for an apology, explaining he had told the priest he had better not wake him again. Earlier that evening, Father Al had done so to let Barrick know that he had seen a light in the upper story of the manor. Apparently Barrick hadn't been too impressed. Chuckling a little to myself, I rolled over and went back to sleep. [/QUOTE]
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