Grye Greytree - The Beginning

Starday, 1 Planting CY591
Gyre awakens from his sleep while the sun still sits below the eastern treetops. The day is already warm, the last vestiges of Spring having begun to give way to the month of Planting, called Blossoms by the elves he had traveled with and squired for several years ago at the height of the Great Wars. The ending of Spring had brought with it the week-long celebration of Growfest, and after spending the time in the small village of Tanglewood, the arrival of Low-Summer brings with it the promise of a new chapter.

Having left the Rangers at the end of the War, you traveled west, skirting major points of civilization, preferring to keep to the less-traveled paths and smaller places of community. Tanglewood is just such a place, with perhaps 500 locals, including the numerous farms dotting the surrounding hills. You were fortunate to secure a room at the Horned Owl’s Roost, a small inn with just four rooms, but with soft mattresses, down pillows and thick comforters that absorbed you into them to the point of your not wanting to rise from them.

But rise you do, hailed by the smell of sizzling bacon and calling of the wild animals returning from their nocturnal hunts. Stretching, you gather yourself to head below. What the day would bring you have no idea, but you know that you won’t be able to stay much longer without making some coin.

Then there is the lure of Keoland, the place you had set out for long ago. The knowledge you carry is a burden, but seeking out the source, finding the root must be done. Whether alone or with a group assembled around you was not relevant. What mattered most was getting some of that damn-good smelling bacon…

Gyre
Leaving your room, which is one of four on the back side of the inn proper, you walk around and enter the front door. The smell of cooking breakfast is stronger in here, and you can see the taproom is partially filled with the early patrons. Most of the clientele, you have come to learn, are local farmers or merchants passing through. The butcher shop typically delivers the daily portions of meat and then stay to enjoy, and you see Carmen the Meatcutter at a far table eating with one of his apprentice sons.

Eretta Owl, the wife of Octavius Owl the owner, moves around the common area sweeping and dusting, cleaning off tables like a woman possessed. Though they do have a servant girl during the day, most times that you have come through you see Eretta busily engaged in cleaning of some sort. It is as if she has a phobia regarding the keeping of the common areas (and rooms) clean.

Smiling at you as you arrive, Eretta motions for you to take any open table you like, and comes to get your order.

"Sir Gyre. G'mornin' t' you. What'll it be t'day? Meats n eggs? Breads? Fruits? Drink? Got some nice spice porridge if y' prefer sumthin' what sicks t' your ribs."

Gyre
Besides the meat cutter and his son, there are a half-dozen people here in the dining area. You recognize a couple of them, Dirk Lawson and Able Deloitte, both older teens who work the farm of Old Man Ostgetter. The others, while you do not recognize them, have the appearance of local farm folk. Nothing more interesting than that, you are afraid.

While you take stock, Eretta comes by with your requested breakfast, piled hot and high on a tin plate. The ale is light, with a bit of spice to it. Azure Top, you remember it being called. Made in Gradsul from the waters of the Azure Sea. While you enjoy your breakfast, you listen as most of the conversation relates to the recent Growfest and the upcoming season, gossip around town about this person getting angry with that, or that boy making a fool of himself for this girl. All boring and mundane for sure.

Wiping your last bits of breakfast up with a piece of warm, buttered bread, you down your drink and stand. As you do, Octavius Owl enters through the front door and scans the room. His gaze stops on you and he walks over, greeting the patrons as he always does.

"Um. Mr. Greytree, I hope I have not caught you at a bad time, but might I have a moment? I may have need of the services of a man such as yourself."

Octavius Owl, the proprietor of the Roost, was once a tall and powerfully built man, now much softened by age. His shoulder and back still bear the marks of a great owlbear that attacked him while he was hunting many years ago; the event (and Eretta) convinced him to leave the life of a wild trapper and enter into a much safer line of work, but he still entertains patrons with the occasional story or two.

"There is coin involved, of course, and I am hoping not outside your charitable willingness." he adds.

Gyre
"No. No. No, nothing as covert as that, sir." Octavius laughs. "It's just I never really hired anyone to deliver a message for me b'fore, so's I was curious as t' how to go about it and all. My cousin recently came into some good fortune a few towns over, and there are no merchants scheduled for another couple of weeks. I'd hoped to get it to her sooner, if you have the time." he says.

Gyre
"Not sure if'n you'd know of it, being' not from here, I don't think. Town's called Saltmarsh. Sits East, right on th' water. Big fishin' town. Prob'ly take no more'n a few days if you stick to th' roads, through Seaton and along th' king's way down there."

Octavius pauses a moment, apparently elated that you would even think to agree to his request. he pulls out a sealed letter from his pocket and hands it to you. It is a rolled piece of parchment, sealed with wax and a plain stamp in the likeness of an owl.

"This is for Mafera. She runs the smithy there in town. Think she's th' onliest one, too, so shouldn't be too hard t' find her. I am most grateful." he says, pressing a pair of gold nobles into your palm along with the letter.

Gyre
You gather your belongings, taking stock and making sure all is as it should be, and head outside into the early morning. The day promises to be moderate, with sky partly clouded and a light breeze blowing down from the north. Something about the sound of leaves rustling atop the high forest canopy that invigorates the senses and makes one wonder what is to come next.

Checking your map, you determine that you should arrive at Daerwald in perhaps 3-4 days, and barring any unforeseen events, to Burle within the week. A couple of more days at most and you should be in Saltmarsh, deliver your letter and then be off on whatever comes next.

Travelling alone is always frowned upon by those who do not call the woods home as you do, but this is a bit far even for you. You know the Dreadwood and what it contains, not all pleasant, but through those woods you shall go to complete Owl's request. So it is that you hit the open road, heading toward Daerwald at a solid pace.