So the next day the 19th, the party left Erylond proper and started heading east, North East the 7 miles to Glagdir Province. Eoghan (and Grin), Darius, Shimlagesh, Grendel, Connal, and Wilhelm (with Frontari, Louie, and Jack) all moved on this spring day. The sky was empty of clouds and the air was cool and crisp. The scent of fresh turned earth and the bursting smell of grasses filled the air. We passed farms, and fiefs, peasants and hunters, gatherers, woodwards, lumber jacks, shepherds, goosegirls, minor lordlings, and all types of people. We broke for lunch and a local farmer welcomed us to his outdoor home and table where we shared it with his wife and kids.
It was about 2:30 when we came upon what had been defined to us as Glagdir Province and then it was only a short walk to the main town area. The road here was wide, 40’ or so – still dirt but defined. A bit over a dozen main buildings were here, 3 of them were manor houses for some local merchant or lord. One of the first places was the Sheriff’s domicile and provincial jail and the Sheriff himself came out to see us. 5’ 9”, 180, maybe about 40 – welcomed us and identified himself as Torod. We announced ourselves as the Vanguards of Ragnarok and he seemed happy to see us.
We had been expected and hoped to arrive. He shared some more details beyond what Hrald had let us know. His dogs (Axel and Butch) have still not turned up and there were no signs of tracks. He reiterated what we had learned earlier and shared some of his thoughts about the Grymerian, Hragring. He was currently staying with the Lady Vari Thor, the young woman who took over her family’s holding on their death at the start of last winter from Brainfever. Hragring (about 40 or so) was courting the Lady Vari – and as an agent from Grymeria, there had been some grumblings about town that he might be involved.
He arrived here at the behest of the Guider of the Dead from Erylond to help make sure the graveyards were sanctified and a place of rest. But he has not left yet and some people are wagging tongues.
As for us, he took us to the see Lord Glagdir – the largest of the 3 manor houses. The Valet, Sang, and elder man, unlocked the gate and let us in. He bid us to leave our cloaks and weapons here and then escorted us further into the manor. There were some rugs and the house looked old. Guess? Maybe 3 generations of family had lived here.
Upon seeing the Lord Glagdir though, we were a bit surprised. Barely 19, 6’ 2”, 160 lbs, downy cheeked and had the look of a scholar or student. He was also geeking out on meeting us and after verifying from the Sheriff that we were the Vangaurd’s, guessed about half of us and even a few facts about our exploits. Seems at the Lordsmoot, Lord Durcent and Baron Skuddrid spoke well of us and based upon the problems he was having, was pleased his Seneschal Hrald was able to garner our aid.
The Sheriff took his leave and Lord Glagdir expanded more on what had been going on. He did lean into the letter his wrote to Lord Hoggar and was concerned that it was a part of the problem or would be in time. We learned that he had taken over as the head of the family 3 years ago when his parents died. He dropped out of college in Erylond and came home to put the Province in order, doing what he could for the people here. He also made sure his 3 younger siblings would get a proper education and be able to finish it, something that he could not do. He was earnest, honest, appreciative, and in this matter regarding the defiling of the graveyard as well as maybe insulting a distant necromantic lord – a bit out of his element.
He was going to pay for us to stay at the Wandering Ewe, the province’s inn and we left after reassuring Lord Glagdir of our capabilities and earnestness to head to the Ewe in question. The tapman was a tired looking adult male named Arming and the Ewe had a 4 count of wenches, all between 14 and 17, and all wearing poorly concealing clothes festooned with bells and chimes. We arranged mutton and beer and he gave us a key to the Grand Chamber (sleeps 10). The room was nice, a cord of wood, lockable foot lockers. We parked some gear and then went down to eat and drink.
It was an early dinner for us and we shared a bit with the locals. Some light games were going on and we noted that the tavern had 3 types of people: younger crowd hanging out, family types spending some coin to go out to eat while the kids listen to the storyteller, and hard working types who had but in a full day and wanted some company. A few of us noted that a five count of young men all got up at the same time and left together – it stuck with us as interesting as no other large group like that had done anything the same.
Talking with Arming, he wasn’t sure who it was until he called one of his girls over. A 16 year old farm looking girl with weighted bells on her torn shirt and unfettered breasts named Hera, let us know that the table had Sonnab and his crew. Sonnab was a young man, he and his brother had been left behind when his parents moved away. They do odd jobs and are in high demand from the locals – specialty in shearing but they can do about anything. 5 all together. They were working this week for the Dikstra family a bit over a quarter mile north of town province center.
Before deciding on anything else, we figured we should head off to speak with Lady Vari Thol and maybe learn about this Grymerian, Hragring. We followed the directions in the deepening gloom heading east to the Thol Homestead in the Province. 40 plus acres, a few serf cottages, many sheep. The manor was locked up as well as the gate. We rang the bell and the Valet Ballod, an older male, came and misunderstood our presence here – not knowing that we had already been to town.
The Lady Vari was happy to meet with us and we came to her sitting room where we met her. She was 23, not unattractive but plain features. A 12 year old younger sister was with her and they were reading from a Friggan Primer of prayers. An older male, over 40, looking like a tradesman, 5’ 8”, 210 lbs, was here and we were introduced to him as her paramour, Hragring. Yep, this was the Grymerian, but he didn’t look anything like what had been expected.
We talked for a bit and learned that he had been coming here (not this house, but this province), at the bequest of the Guider for 2 decades and the Thol family had always been kind to him. He would spend 3 weeks tending to the graveyard, sanctifying the recently deceased, make sure the markers and stones were in good repair, and just generally do what ceremonies he needed to for the place. He did emigrate to Grymeria shortly after its founding and he felt a comfort being there.
When Vari’s parents died of brainfever at the end of his visit in the fall and the sudden snows, he stayed here at first as a friend and confidant, but between the two of them, a relationship grew and he has little reason to leave. Lady Vari knows the provincials in Glagdir look poorly on her and Hragring, but she loves him and he the same with her. Some questions were asked and the Lady Vari thought there were some insults bandied about. Hragring assured the party that he was not here doing anything nefarious, regardless of whatever chin wagging the townsfolk might do. Eventually we wore out our welcome and left.
Our thoughts were that Hragring had nothing to do with the graveyard robbing now and that we should maybe set up some watch there tonight. Supposedly the crimes were all between 10 and midnight, and it was getting close to 9 now.
We made our way back to the Wandering Ewe, learned that the Common Room was closing down about 10, and food won’t be available until 7 tomorrow. Arming and armoring up, we ventured off to the Graveyard Hill and set ourselves up.
We could identify the 4 graves that had been disturbed, and sure enough, they were all buried between a year and two ago. There didn’t seem to be anything specific about them that made them more interesting than another. At one point Shim sat on a gravemarker and got a faint shock in his ass for it. A detect magic followed and we could see a low order aura of magic was on the more recent graves. There is a Ceremony that can be cast on a grave to make sure that anyone interred should have an undisturbed rest. And based on something Hragring mentioned to us earlier, it made sense.
There were a number of larger oak trees here, 60’ tall, 70’ crowns. We arranged some places to hide out and then we waited. It wasn’t long after 10:30 when we could see candle light heading our way from the north. They moved close and around 200 yards out paused for a bit, drew up into a line and then moved VERY quick towards us – faster than Connal could run, maybe ever as fast as a horse can gallop. It stopped some distance from the hill, 4 of them broke away, and they all ran to the cemetery and ran a bit of the way up the hall. One stayed out, a good 40 yards from us – and whoever it was kept moving the tapir away from its face and back. The reflective purple glint from its eyes let the group[ believe the figure had infravision – and was far enough away to keep the diggers in view.
Connal wanted to creep closer but our voices carried a bit and the diggers were spooked once, and then twice. Shim made himself invisible and did the same for Connal. It seemed like they were going to run, heading back down the hill and making an escape when Dizzy at 80’ away in the dark with only moon and star light spun his sling and tried for a hail mary called shot to one of the fleeing robber’s legs – and hit! He went down screaming, his leg hit terribly, the other 4 picked up speed and again with the unworldly pace, ran off to the north, candles eventually extinguished.
The young man, Niring, had been crying and yelling. We dropped a cure minor on him and tried to get some answers when the Sheriff Torod and 3 of the provincial militia arrived, alerted to the yells and screams. He looked the kid over and we gave him a story of the kid scared at our presence and falling back over a marker, hurting his leg as the others ran. He was one of Sonnab’s crew, maybe 16 years of age. He was taken to the jail and party followed. Another cure minor was given and we talked for a bit. He was going to sleep it off and we could question him in the morning – and then the Sheriff was going to maybe head over to the Dikstra farm and talk to Sonnab. Group wanted to be involved so would have to be here early in the AM.
We slept, poorly, but were up the next day bright and bushy tailed. Shim was sad the kitchen wasn’t open yet so we went off to Sheriff Torod’s to talk to Niring. He blamed us for the attack and we refuted it. His case was poor and the Sheriff let him know. He refused to say some things in front of the Sheriff who agreed to step out to check the rain barrels. Seems they were digging up gems and jewels. They needed it. Not coin. Sonnab and then had done something, something not good – and he couldn’t talk about it – swore to secrecy. If Sonnab wanted to tell us, then it was up to him. Just don’t bring the Sheriff.
We debated the matter and decided to tell Torod that we’d handle the next part and he could stay here with Niring. We gathered there was something more to all of this but agreed for now to hang back and wait for the party’s return and explanation. We left, getting directions to the Dikstra portion of the farm and headed up that way. 85 head of sheep were here grazing and at the hen house, an older farmer and his family wondered who we were. We said we were from Erylond and wanted to have a word with Sonnab if that was ok, Sheriff Torod gave his ok. Dikstra called to Sonnab who waved back, picked up a lamb, and headed to the group.
Sonnab was an easy-going young man, 18, 5’ 10”, maybe 190. Tanned and fit, and seemed to have a happy-go-lucky look about him. He was pleased to meet the party, learning they were an adventuring party and the rest of his Crew also came forward to meet the “rockstars” from Erylond. After some introductions were given around the party indicated to Sonnab they needed to talk to him alone. He bid the rest of his crew to go back to work and turned his attention back to the party, eyes wondering.
During all this, Sonnab and Wilhelm were inexplicably feeling comfortable around each other. There was a resonance between the two of them that neither could explain. Eventually we got around to talking about Niring which had the young man become guarded. Oh, he got hurt? Hope he’s ok. We went all over conversationally until Sonnab was verbally boxed in and he admitted he needed help and was so thankful the group was there to help.
He needed between 30 and 50 gems to be given to the Far Dam orc tribe, a migratory Firvanir tribe of Randari Orcs that pass through the area. What for? He hemmed and hawed for a while until he extracted a promise that the group would not tell the Sheriff, the Lord, anyone WHY. It went around a bit and we provisionally agreed on it. He thought we would help him dig up graves or sell him gems and we had to dissuade him of this as he got around to the why of it.
They owed the Far Dam tribe the gems because they would not accept coins. And they had to fund the dowry for the orcish women…girls, they had spent a week having their way with.
What?
Through a number of false turns and starts, we got the story. Sonnab and his crew worked hard and did good work, but there was precious coins left over for anything. So they had somehow hooked up with a brewer that was exporting casks of his beer from Canaslan and moving it over country to avoid paying Tariffs to King Seljack in Paxian. Sonnab’s crew usually picks up the stuff from an old shrine or the like outside of Canaslan’s borders near a place called Hillscar, and carry it overland north and west to another place where some smugglers from Stivil take it from them. They get paid well enough for their effort for once a month work, taking a few days.
However, a few weeks ago they had come upon a number of orcish girls and women who had been found at Hillscar. They were in poor shape, thirsty, and left there. They did not speak Common and Sonnab’s crew did not speak orcish. But they were young men far from civilization and came upon these young Randari girls…and took advantage of them. Sexually. After almost a week, guilt had been settling in and Sonnab was getting a bad feeling. Who had captured them? Whay had no one come back for them? What was going on? The orc women had grown catatonic and stopped talking. He suggested the group head off towards home with the orcs and bring them to Swelter Ridge, a landmark small cliff not too far north of Glagdir Province. They could hand them off to the Far Dam tribe there and begone before the girls get the ability to speak back.
It didn’t work out that well. They did arrive at Swelter Ridge and did attract the attention of the orcs in the area. But the Randari women had no problem talking and in their own language told the hunters what had been done to them and Sonnab and his crew’s responsibility. Confronted by the angered tribe, they were forced to wait while a medicine woman came out, checked the 4 girls over, and announced that all of them had been deflowered and that 2 of them were also gravid with child.
Recompense and honor demanded the girls be given enough treasures to offset the value that Sonnab and his crew had taken from them. The orcs did not blame Sonnab for the kidnapping of the orcs, but for their week long actions that followed. If Sonnab did not pay, the Far Dam tribe would be forced to enter Glagdir Province and exact a raid to amass enough treasures and honor instead.
Damn it. Sonnab pleaded with them to give them a chance to get money. The tribe wanted no coin – nothing that would force them to have to trade with other human centric towns. Gems or jewels would suffice. They had to return every night between midnight and 3 to meet with the Tribe’s Fire Champion, Svandan. They can return empty handed if it happened that day (as it did last night), but if they failed to show up, the tribe would enter the Province on raid footing if need be.
Sonnab had already given the orcs 9 gems to date and wanted the party to help him get the other 21. We were like, damn it. What the hell? At some point the decision was that we would go with Sonnab tonight to talk with the Fire Champion Svandan and see if there was another path we could take to resolve this before it comes to raids, stealing, and blows. Sonnab was so thankful for the party, not realizing that they didn’t hold him or his crew in good regards. We asked about the Sheriff’s dogs and he assured us at Axel and Butch were ok and were here. We went to see the dogs and agreed to take them back to the Sheriff, omitting that Sonnab had taken them. We reminded him we’d see him and his crew tonight about 11ish and with the Torod’s animals in tow, headed back to the heart of the province. It was about 9:30 AM on the 20th – 2 days shy of the Festival of Pies. 😊
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