Willow Ufgood - The Beginning

Sunday, 7 Growfest CY591

A loud rap on the table where Willow lay his head startles you awake, and in the ethereal space between dreams and consciousness you let out a yelp, throw your arm up to ward off the attack and send your chair teetering backwards onto its hind legs. Unfortunately, the gravitational laws of the real world overcome the not-so-static rules of the dream world and the momentum of your action sends you and the chair falling backward into the bookshelf behind you. The chair stops, caught by the sturdy oak shelving, but you continue your journey downward until you feel the solid stone of the floor greet your body.

To add insult to injury, the impressive stack of books that stood next to your resting place come crashing down upon you, many of them losing the meticulously marked passages you had made in doing so. Shaken fully awake, you stand to eye your attacker and see Illian Bethane, junior librarian of the Gradsul Library, Local History Section.

"Forgive me, Willow, sir, but as you are surely aware, the library is for research and relaxation, though not to the point of our requiring to charge as an inn. Shall I have someone help you replace these books? Or shall you require more time to look up whatever it was you sought? The library closes in two hours, at sundown."

You have been in Gradsul for the past month, researching various local accounts of history, looking to increase your already impressive knowledge of things such as the troop movements in the war, particularly regarding those of Keoland, which hold great interest for you. In particular, you learned of a secret society called the Scarlet Brotherhood, a racial purist organization who believe that the Suel people are the rightful rulers over all.

This society apparently infiltrated various governments at the highest levels, seeking to usurp power from the rightful rulers during the Great Wars. While they were, luckily, found out, their history dates back to before the Invoked Devastation, and so you have been spending many sleepless knights and days looking for any traces of them in the local histories.

Now, however, with Growfest winding down and the library of Gradsul having given you much to pursue, you have been thinking ever increasingly about moving on. Perhaps to Niole Dra, capital of Keoland, or one of the other large states, where you could continue your research. For now, however, a hot meal and perhaps a good night's rest before doing so.

The Hammerhead Inn, a small hostel you found for a reasonable price just south and west of town, offered you a welcomed stay while you raided the library, and right about now, the ale would be flowing and the hot dinner meals would be getting served in hearty portions.

Willow
As you begin to replace the books you had been reading, a young apprentice librarian joins you. A boy of perhaps 13, thin, wiry with a thin, hawkish nose, his hair is well kept and his clothes pristine.

"Junior Librarian Illian has directed that I assist you, master Willow. I am Jermain, first-year apprentice to the Guild of Librarians." he says slowly, haltingly, as if reciting a newly-learned phrase

Before you can reply, he begins to help, and in a few minutes time you have all of the books replaced and the area back in order.

"Do you require other services sir? Shall I help you retrieve more tomes?"

Willow
The Hammerhead is a lively place in the early evening when you arrive, the sun just now setting to the west. Brilliant oranges, purples and blues strafe the night sky as the first of the stars begin to reveal themselves. A light breeze blows across the harbor, bringing with it the smells of the sea and fisheries in that direction. The salty smell of fish guts and seaweed wrinkle your nose as you enter the warmth of the taproom, and the familiar sight of its owner, Felix Montaugh, playing his guitar while serenading the patrons out of more coin than they probably should.

An interesting man, with jet black hair slicked back with a heavy oil, dark olive skin that appears to have been darkened by long periods under the open sky, Felix claims to hail from a far off city called Sasserine, which apparently is in the jungles across the ocean. Never one to shy from tales, he has regaled the crowds with never ending stories of his homeland and the seas between.

As you step through, you pass by another man, human, but one you do not know. Most people here are regulars, but this fellow you have never seen. He does not appear to notice you, and as you pass by you hear him speaking to another man you do not know. Both are young, perhaps in their mid-twenties, and sport leather attire. Neither appears to be armed, but both have an edge about them that speak to fellows acquainted with conflict of at least the barroom brawl type.

"Yep. If ol' Drake tries anything, I got me a warrior that has seen more time in battle than most have lived. Veteran of the Great War he says. Looks it too. We head out for Seaton and then Saltmarsh after that. They have a mine now, sanctioned by old Skotti himself they say. They're sure to need tools, and I aim to provide."

Willow
The man looks down at you, his face crinkling a bit in apparent thought. "No." he says succinctly, taking the offered ale. Drinking it deeply, he slams the empty tankard onto the table and belches loudly. "But a few more of those, good gnome, and you may have to tag along to see to it I make it to the stables on time in the morning!"

Bowing slightly, he offers his hand. "Bastion Sales. Purveyor of the finest in quality gear. Have you a need, perhaps, of some fine glassware for your potions? Perhaps you seek to research the dark underworld? I've the best made lanterns by the top craftsmen in the land!"

Pausing a second, he looks at his companion, then back at you. "Arcane arts, is it? Minor tricks to astound and amaze the children? Or a master of your craft are you?"

Willow
"Sir! My manners. Please forgive me." says Bastion as you pull up a table. "Please allow me the pleasure of introducing you to Mr. Nod Glemmings, merchant and entrepreneur of the city of Gradsul. Everyone who is anyone, seeks my fried here out in order to conduct business, for he is as discrete with his dealings as he is with his ladies." he laughs loudly.

The man, Nod, shakes his head a bit before reaching out to offer his had to you. "Bastion be a bit tall in th' tellin' o' his tales, sir, though m'pleasure meetin' yas."

"Mayhap for myself, yes, but one can never brag too much on one of your esteemed talents, Nod." Bastion retorts. Turning back to you, he adds "I've no coin, but the promise of a place to ride on my wagon as we go, sir wizard. However, if things come to it and you fend off the beasties should needs be, then we can agree to, say, a gold coin for the effort? Trip's time should be no more than a week."

Willow
"Agreed!" chimes in Bastion as both men raise their glasses in response.

"At the stables, then, just past first light. Prompt or be forced to walk!" he laughs. After perhaps thirty more minutes of revelry, Nod takes his leave, followed shortly by your new employer.

Willow
Early riser though you are, it seems that you arrive just as the wagon train has begun to depart. You can see that it is stopped a few hundred feet down the road, with a human man dressed much like a clergyman, running down the road yelling at it.

Willow
As the wagons once again begin to move, Canterfree begins screeching and swooping past the first set of horses in the train, causing them to balk and stop. The wagoner stands up and tries to swat at it, but your owl is too deft for him and just flies back down the road, back toward you.