You enter the mead hall one at a time with Angie at the front of the procession followed closely behind by Thokein, Gobbler, and Healer. As Healer crosses the threshold and closes the door behind him you are immediately thrown into what seems like darkness. Your eyes take a moment to adjust to the low light of the hall. As they do you can see a large rectangular fire pit a short distance in front of you is the only light source in the room. As you move closer to th fire you can see the room is about 150ft long by 14ft wide and has a high ceiling with rows of intricately carved beams supporting it. You can also see there are large tables with stumps for stools lining both sides of the long hall. As you walk midway past the fire pit, you see there is a raised platform with what looks from his distance to be a throne made from carved bone. You approach the throne and see there are four bald, tattooed warriors to either side similar to the ones you saw earlier. In front of the throne there are three people, a man, a woman, and a small boy. The man stands apart from the woman and boy pointing at them and stopping his foot. The man is wearing merchant clothing, while the woman and boy wear garments that appear to have been patched many times. Another guard stands close to them watching them with scrutiny. 

“This is the second time I’ve caught this whelp stealing eggs from me my lord... I demand the punishment be severe... the loss of his right hand should teach him a lesson!” 

“Please no!”  Screams the woman.

”Silence, both of you!” You hear from the throne. “Do not presume to demand anything from me Sven! I am your Jarl, do not forget your place! ...And for the love of Stormi do not scream again woman. Now, Sven has a point and I will not tolerate thievery in these trying times. The boy will be punished, but I do not wish him to lose life, or limb. Stick him in the stockade for the rest of the day... after, five lashings. Now take him them from my sight!”

”Noo! Please!”  The woman screams again causing the guard to slap her across the face. Two more guards grab her and take her and the boy away, while the merchant bows deeply to the Jarl and then scurries away.

”Now, what is this I hear about foreigners slipping into Grim Village unrecorded?”

As you hear this you are pushed forward by the guard from the front door and positioned in a line in front of the throne. Angie is now on the far left, Thokein and Gobbler in the middle, and Healer on the far right. You stand before Jarl Ybentord Silvertooth. He is an imposing man. The sides of his head are shaved, but with a long pleated braid on top. His beard is forked and contains a dozen silver rings and he wears a black bear cloak with heavy chains around his neck.

”Well... explain yourselves!” he demands of you.

Angie looks around, taken a little off guard by the darkness, and militant atmosphere in the hall. Soon she gathers her wits and drops down to one knee. She gestures with her hands for her companions to follow her lead.

"Oh, mighty Jarl. We beg your forgiveness for any offenses we may have inadvertently caused. We are but poor adventurers who, through very mysterious means over which we had no control, have been spirited to your lovely town only this very morning. Last night we fell asleep in a tavern a world away. This morning we awoke in a boat off your shore. There was a mysterious man named Grisebo in the boat with us, but he made us row him to shore and tie up the boat and then disappeared as soon as we disembarked. Since then we have wandered around your beautiful town in a bit of a daze. Again we apologize for any problems we may have caused." Angie dips her head low to the ground to show humility. "When we heard your people extolling your wisdom and power we knew that if anybody could help us return to our world it would be you and we headed right over." Angie dips her head slightly in to show respect.

Angie continues before she can be interrupted. "We think we were sent here by an old bard we met last night back in the tavern. He told us that he wanted us to venture the Wildheart and seek his friend Elmtounge. Before last night I don't think any of us had ever heard about the Wildheart let alone knew it to be real," Angie looks at her companions for confirmation, "and today we mysteriously awake in a town right next to it. It cannot be a coincidence." Angie remains in a respectful position while suggesting, "Perhaps there is some aid we can provide to you in exchange for your guidance."

The Jarl drums his finger on the end of his chair arm as he listens to Angie’s well thought out response. “Hmm.. this is quite an extravagant story you weave traveler.. I’m not sure I like the sound of this magic that whisks people away whilst they slumber...”

 DM Note: Make a persuasion check with advantage. 

Angie's Persuasion = 19

“...But, it is not impossible. Perhaps, your party was destined to be here. You are a Valkyrie perhaps? And you there... a berserker maybe? A wood weird too? You all look quite formidable... though the short one.. what is he I wonder? Not as hardy looking as a dwarf, I can see that...” the Jarl leans forward in his chair to get a better look, “Are you of the fae folk?”

Tries to hide a laugh again.

Gobbler looks around to see if he is talking to anybody else, only to realize that the Jarl was asking him. He hops out of the line and bows to the Jarl in a manner between courtesy and playfulness.

Me? I'm a halfling m'lord. Half human and half spirit. My party and I arrived here on behalf of a mysterious bard. I am not a fae folk but I can understand the feeling of the forest to an extent. May I ask if there are other villages nearby are trying to solve the problem?

As Gobbler finish talking, he takes a good look at the Jarl (Gobbler looks at the attire of the Jarl).

“A half-ling..” the Jarl says mulling the word over aloud. “How strange. I’ve heard of half-trolls, troll-dwarves, and half-elves before.. in stories, mind you.. but, not half-lings.. what is a “ling” I wonder. Oh, never mind, I’ve no time for these musings. I don’t care what you are at the moment, I believe you can be of use!”

The Jarl suddenly gets up from his chair and steps down to the ground, “Stand up now, I won’t have my champions grovel!”  The Jarl appears even more formidable now he is right in front of your noses. His forked beard swings as he walks and his proximity brings the smell of bear grease he uses to oil it. He is not quite as tall as Thokein, but appears well over six feet tall and is covered in many tattoos depicting his victories both in the hunt and in battle.

“I don’t know this bard, Elmtonge, or this Grisebo character, but I’ll take you on your word Valkyrie. Grim Village could certainly use your help in sorting this mess out with Wildheart... my warriors are few now, thanks to the creatures emerging from the wood and the usual raids from our neighbors to the north. Wildheart has always been... dark.. but, recently the darkness seems to be...spreading...as if it were seeking something. Travelers and supplies used to be safe if they stuck to the main paths through the forest, but not anymore. Folk must circumvent the whole thing now, or travel by boat and that is costly and dangerous in of itself. As Jarl I must ask you to do what you can.. I can supply you with what rations I can spare and outfit you with horses to travel north with, though as a giver of rings I am obligated to tell you... if you do survive Wildheart... it is not within my power to return you to whence you came. Still, if you do survive I will see to it you are given positions of power here. You would be treated as champions and be part of my retinue. What say you?”

 DM Note: Jarl Ybentord Silvertooth is an imposing man. The sides of his head are shaved, but with a long pleated braid on top. His beard is forked and contains a dozen silver rings and he wears a black bear cloak with heavy chains around his neck. You could say he’s the Norse Blackbeard.

Angie bows to the Jarl.

"Mighty Jarl. I can only speak for myself, but if we cannot return to lands from whence we came I would be most honored to serve someone so strong and wise as yourself. Back home I was not just an explorer, but a scholar and a researcher as well. I am sure that I could serve you and your community well." Angie looks up at the Jarl with a somber expression on her face, "That said I have left many family and friends and colleagues back home," Angie's face scrunches up and a tear begins to form in the corner of one of her eyes. "Not to mention all of my research and primary sources. I could never reliably reproduce most of those data sets from memory." A single constrained gasp escapes Angie's throat before she gathers herself together again. "So I hope you will understand that if I can find a way home I must take it."

Angie takes a deep breath and continues. "In the meantime, and from having known my companions for almost 24 hours I can say with some certainty that they join me in this sentiment, it would be an honor and a privilege to be able to provide any assistance that we can to help you with the Wildheart. But do you have any advice as to where we should start our investigations?"

Hmm. An interesting offer indeed. I, myself, cannot acknowledge the last part for I do not wish to be constrained. My kind are destined to travel wherever fate takes us. It cannot bind us to a single place. I will do what I must. I do however have some questions about the forest. 

Number one. Where have the attacks been taking place?

Number two. Have there been other foreign strangers mysteriously appearing before us?

Number three. Are there any other races besides humans?

Number four. How have you been trying to solve this issue in front of you? I have seen that you and the priest outside have some conflicts with one another.

“Fear not Valkyrie, Trudvang is full of mystery.. and raw magic... you may just find a way home yet. As to where to start, Wildheart itself I suppose. No one has returned alive from the forest in an age, so there’s no one to ask for advice. I sent some of my best warriors into the forest in an attempt to root out the evil to no avail. I will not lose any more of my people to it, so I have forbidden them to enter it... this is why Gothi, the priest you met I assume, does not favor me. He would sacrifice the entire village to the gods should he not be kept in check.

You ask a lot of questions little one. I believe you already have answers to some of what you ask, but I will indulge you. The attacks are isolated to Wildheart, though lately the paths just outside the forest leading in have been equally treacherous. To my knowledge you are the first party of foreigners to visit this part of Trudvang, though the only record we keep of this nature is the home skin. Trudvang has many races besides humans, but we see them rarely in Grim Village for they have their own strongholds. These races include elves, dwarves, trolls, and mixtures of the races. I’ve also heard tales of fae folk, demons, giants, and dragons... though I suppose these are less common.. probably a good thing too.”

"Thank you, great Jarl," Angie says, "With your assistance I have no doubt that we will be able to successfully investigate the Wildheart and learn what ails it. At this time I think the most prudent course of action would be for us to head out tomorrow at first light." Angie looks to her companions for confirmation then looks back to the Jarl. "Would you know of anyplace we could find lodging for the night?"

“You may sleep here in my hall tonight, return after dark there will be food and festivities. Your supplies will be ready for you in the morning. You may take your leave now, I have business I must attend to. I hope you are successful in this endeavor travelers... for all our sakes.”

"Should we return to our other invitation now?"

The guard escorts you back out into the late afternoon sun. As you are discussing your conversation with the jarl a small messenger boy approaches you.

”Ummm..umm.. are you the Valkyrie miss?” He asks Angie.

Angie looks bemusedly at her friends before answering. "Why yes, I am the Valkyrie." Angie's mouth fumbles a bit with the unusual word. "How may I help you?"

“My ma..ma...master Remlaug sent me to f-fetch you.. will you please follow me?”

"Lead the way," Angie says and follows the boy.

Follows

The boy leads you away from the mead hall back towards the village square. The blot pole is still standing in its stained wood glistening with what looks like fresh blood in the late summer sun. White ash covers the ground in a circle around it making it seemingly appear more foreboding than last you saw it. Gothi, however is nowhere to be seen.

The boy skirts the edges of the square to avoid the grisly visage and exits up a dirt path that leads away from the center of the village. You pass a few modest houses and workshops on your way, but eventually you come to a house made of stone instead of the normal wood. It looks inviting and leasurily with roses growing in the front garden. You pass through the gate and the boy knocks on the front door. A woman answers and ushers you inside through a small entryway and into a dining area with a large wooden trestle table dominating the room. She seats you and pours each of you a cup of milk thistle tea. “Your host will be in shortly my lords and lady.. he is just finishing some work in the study. Please enjoy some tea while you wait to dine.”