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" Aye, me handsome. Dey gone drick wit priest. Here'n chapel an all. Jes kik through.", Odo muttered as he gestured vaguely in the chapels direction, seemingly enjoying the cider at his side.

As the two looked about they saw a couple of folks from Scardic, Mizzen the injured newcomer who had the look of a sailor and the bondsman Argyle who was looking in their direction. They also noted the Vaynes scribe and school mistress and one of the stableboys wheeling up a storm among the dancing villagers.

 

Tanatari nudges Teryl upon spotting the rest of their group, "It appears the others have been having quite the time without us." She gestures over to the dancing crowd, the edges of a smile curling on her lips.

"Best not keep them waiting any longer." She carefully tugs on her companion's elbow, pulling them both in a stride toward the duo that had already spotted them. She nods in thanks at Odo as they pass.

 
Teryl sighs a breath of relief before matching Tanatari’s pace. He looks between his companion and the ongoing festivities, his cheeks taking a reddish hue. 

“I’ve never seen so many people…” Teryl trails off as they approach the sailor and bondsman. 

Mizzen was about to doze off in his rickety seat when he heard the two newcomers approaching him and Argyle. "Woah!" He startles as he jumps out of his seat surprised and nearly falls down due to his crippled legs though he did manage to stabilize himself after 20 seconds. "Was not expecting you two to approach us! You had me off balance right there! If I recall guys are the newcomers helping us, am I right?" He extends his hand. "I'm Mizzen. And this fine bloke standing next to me is Argyle. It's a pleasure to meet both of you."

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Mizzen was about to doze off in his rickety seat when he heard the two newcomers approaching him and Argyle. "Woah!" He startles as he jumps out of his seat surprised and nearly falls down due to his crippled legs though he did manage to stabilize himself after 20 seconds. "Was not expecting you two to approach us! You had me off balance right there! If I recall guys are the newcomers helping us, am I right?" He extends his hand. "I'm Mizzen. And this fine bloke standing next to me is Argyle. It's a pleasure to meet both of you."

 

"Tanatari." The lady reaches out and shakes his hand. "Although most just call me Tana."

She tosses a strand of hair out of her face and flashes Mizzen a soft smile before gesturing to her companion.

"This is Teryl. We're meant to be meeting up with Syr Valor's group." She inclines her head, taking in Mizzen's form and also casting a glance over at Argyle. "We have some reports from our time in the northeastern side of Jewelspider Wood."

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Valor enjoyed the wine precisely because of its roughness. He got along with his oldest brother, who would take over for his father. But his middle brother tended--in Valor's opinion at least--to be too enamored of luxury and the "pleasures of the flesh" for a priest. For fear of becoming his brother, Valor tended to lean more towards asceticism himself and, though he allowed himself the odd pleasure here and there, he always preferred function over form. The main reason he dressed well and maintained the appearance of his arms, was because it reflected on his father, rather than any desire for ostentation itself.

He shook himself a little from his reverie and shrugged. "Well, Brother Bretwald, if we pass this way on our way back, I would be happy to hear your tale. If you wish to keep your own counsel 'till then, that is your business, and I'll not push it."

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Valor enjoyed the wine precisely because of its roughness..

He shook himself a little from his reverie and shrugged. "Well, Brother Bretwald, if we pass this way on our way back, I would be happy to hear your tale. If you wish to keep your own counsel 'till then, that is your business, and I'll not push it."

 Hotspur smiles, "Well my cousin may not push, but I will say this, if you do not share your secrets, at some point you risk some random but quite talented bard inventing a few for you and sharing them in song with your parishioners.  Not me, of course, I would never do that."

Bretwald fixed Hotspur with a look and then turned towards Valor with a raised eyebrow, then cracked a grin.

" I personally think you'd be hard pressed to come up with a rumour that hasn't already made the rounds in my long time here in the country. Illegitimate children, love affairs with man, woman and beast, drunkard, pederast......being a priest means keeping everyones secrets and some do not appreciate not knowing each others business and others do not take a kindly guidance in the interest of their soul in the right way."

" But if you truly wish to know more I suppose it cannot hurt if I have your guarantee that you will return in time."

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 "Tanatari. Although most just call me Tana."

"This is Teryl. We're meant to be meeting up with Syr Valor's group.

Argyle merely smiled and nodded at the newcomers. He'd been aware of them around the manor, but hadn't yet had much interaction with them.

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 "We have some reports from our time in the northeastern side of Jewelspider Wood."

At this, the young swordsman stopped whittling and raised an eyebrow. "Really? Please, if they at all have any security concerns, do tell." He shrugged and grinned a bit sheepishly. "Besides, I would love to know a bit more about that area."

Hotspur grins, "Ah you priests, always so literal.  Of course you must keep your own counsel and secrets, ignore me.  Or share, if you like, but there are no guarantees in life.  The Heavens are capricious, our party could be swallowed up in an earthquake or carried off by a whirlwind tomorrow.  So, share or do not, but the future is inscrutable, as always."

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Hotspur grins, "Ah you priests, always so literal.  Of course you must keep your own counsel and secrets, ignore me.  Or share, if you like, but there are no guarantees in life.  The Heavens are capricious, our party could be swallowed up in an earthquake or carried off by a whirlwind tomorrow.  So, share or do not, but the future is inscrutable, as always."

" Fair enough I suppose.", the old man nodded.

He reaches into his nightstand and unfurls a parchment—it seems to be a map, and there is something written below it in a script you do not recognize.

“Have you heard of Vallandar?” asks Bretwald. “Rex quondam rexque futurus. He is said to have been king of this land long ago. His reign was just and pious, great warriors bowed to be his vassals. But his evil halfbrother Morgrin hated him for his goodness, betrayed him to his enemies, wrought a war in which Vallandar’s  kingdom was laid waste. The legends say that Vallandar met Morgrin in the final battle and struck him down with a single blow, but Morgrin had laid a spell upon his sword and it dealt the king a grievous wound as it fell from the traitor’s dead hand."

“Mathor, the king’s wizard, found his dying lord on the battlefield and took him in his arms, carrying him to a secret crypt that he had built. There he placed Vallandar, with his twelve bravest knights and all the treasures of his kingdom, to await the day when he was needed again to drive injustice from these shores."

“A pretty story, to be sure. I believe there was indeed a powerful warlord called Vallandar—or Valdyne, or Klavayn; accounts differ. This document was given to me by a monk years ago; he could not read the language. I was a friar in Cornumbria in my youth, and I learned a little of this script there. It tells where Vallandar is buried”—he stabs his finger down on the parchment— “in Fenring Forest, three days hence!"

"Ah a treasure hunt interesting, but I believe our priorities lie in Maiden Vale. Of course its up to Sir Dayne" says Morseth.

"Hmmm... an interesting tale. Pity for the brave knights." Valor said dryly, as he considered the map.

"As the apothecary notes, our duty draws us to Maiden's Vale, but when next our time has no demand upon it, I would be interested to explore this map of yours. Of that you may have my word. And if my bondsmen wish to accompany me so much better, but I would not demand it of them."

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"Ah a treasure hunt interesting, but I believe our priorities lie in Maiden Vale. Of course its up to Sir Dayne" says Morseth.

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"Hmmm... an interesting tale. Pity for the brave knights." Valor said dryly, as he considered the map.

"As the apothecary notes, our duty draws us to Maiden's Vale, but when next our time has no demand upon it, I would be interested to explore this map of yours. Of that you may have my word. And if my bondsmen wish to accompany me so much better, but I would not demand it of them."

" Absolutely, the needs of the living take priority over the fancies of an old duffer.  But we will leave further discussion for your return.  I should retire for the evening anyway."

Hotspur leans to Valor, and whispers into his ear, "Why has the 'old duffer' never gone for a look-see himself?  There's more to this than meets the eye, I'd wager. He's not telling us something."

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Hotspur leans to Valor, and whispers into his ear, "Why has the 'old duffer' never gone for a look-see himself?  There's more to this than meets the eye, I'd wager. He's not telling us something."

 Valor gives his cousin a look that says, "obviously," and says aloud, "I imagine it's likely dangerous to get there, dangerous to explore the tomb itself, and dangerous to have whatever treasure is buried there, assuming any actual treasure is buried there." He shrugs, "Doesn't mean it's not worth it though."

Thatch nimbly twirls around with the dancing townfolk, always with an eye toward the fair maidens.  Red-faced with exertion, he blows a stray lock of his golden hair out of his face and notices the newcomers, recognizing them immediately from his interactions with them in the stables and rushing to join them. “Tana, Teryl! You made it!  I am glad. What were you doing in the Jewelspider Wood?”

( I'm gonna move us ahead but feel free to post anything from the previous evening in " flashback" form if needed.)

The companions set out from Axbridge at first light having spent the night respectively at Bretwalds, Sollys or simply snoozing in the town square.

Reports were relayed and a hastily written copy sent south to Scardic along with a wagon load of wool and dried mushrooms.

Just before midday it began to rain incessantly. To make matters worse Mother Clay has done nothing all day but complain about her various ailments. Still, there is not too much further to go. As night approaches, ymany look forward to the comfort of a warm bed for the night, and for some the chance to show your quality to your cousin and her husband. And for some the rich rewards their patronage might bring.

The sound of the rain makes it hard to be heard, and everyone’s hair is plastered to their faces, with freezing water soaking through your travel-cloaks and running down your necks. Feel

Mother Clay expresses on almost a constant basis to young Thatch and anyone else who draws closer that she is unhappy about having to travel at her age, and she is rather dismissive of the folk who have been assigned to protect her as , apparently, they are not a scratch on the bondsmen and women of her youth.

The track winds northwards up a hill, so sodden that it is more like a muddy river than a road. Cresting the top, you find yourself looking down on the village of Maiden’s Vale: a huddle of ancient stone houses weighed down by moss-coated thatched roofs, in a valley of dark woodland. No glimmer of welcoming firelight can be seen in the windows, or wood-smoke curling from the chimneys. The village looks deserted. In the centre is a small square, overshadowed by a manor house remarkable for its even greater age. It stands a storey higher than
the rest, with walls made of wattle around row upon row of mill stones, giving it an armoured appearance.

Beside the road is a huge oak tree. Its thick boughs, bent by age, rest on the ground. Fixed between two of them is a wooden stocks. A bedraggled man sits on a third bough, his head and hands locked into the rough wood shackles. He looks scared.

Hotspur approaches the shackled man, smiling and speaking in a comforting tone. "Ho there, friend.  I am Hotspur, and believe it or not, this handsome face has spent more than a few nights in a similar predicament as yourself.  Let's see if we can help.  You there!  'Thatch' is it?  You have the look of someone clever with your hands.  Do you mind terribly fiddling with these locks while I help and let's see if our new friend can tell us what has happened here?"

As Hotspur speaks the man looks up and seems to take in the group for the first time, " SHHHH!", he hisses desperately.

" Its still around...", his eyes darted about as if searching for something....he was most definitely deeply afraid.

Morseth starts looking around trying to find what has made this man so scared

perception check

7

Valor had been about to admonish Hotspur, that this man was in the stocks for a reason and could be quite deserving of his fate, and he would not interfere with the Justice of his cousin's domain without good reason.

But at the man's words he instead draws his sword, his maul was still strapped to his pack for travel. He looks around while quietly asking the man, "WHAT is still around?"

Perception check if you need it: 19

(( @DM: Is it safe to presume that it's almost twilight, and still raining? ))

Argyle didn't like the looks of this. No one in town? No sign of activity? And just one lone man insisting on silence? The bondsman quickly drew his swords and moved closer to Mother Clay, scanning the environment through the rain for any visible threats in the dying light.

(( Perception Check: 19 ))

Tanatari steps up towards the man with a look of faint concern.

"Does he appear injured or perhaps loopy?" She asks aloud before leaning in for a closer look herself.

(Medicine Check if needed: 20)