Lars and the "Honest" truth......

Two days.  Two days since returning from the Emerald Enchanters lair. Two days of tearing apart Ternelmor’s house. Two days with nothing to show but a single brass key. The town treasury had to be somewhere else, it was not in this house.

Leaving the ransacked abode the smuggler grumbles to himself. “An ale or two, is what I need.” Lars had never actually met the mayor prior to the parties arrival in Tegel. He had however, ”heard” of the man. He’d had to pay a tithe to start his smuggling operation to a representative of Ternelmor and Lars never paid out coin that he didn’t get back. This would be no exception.

The sky was gray and heavy with dark clouds rolling in from the sea.

“Last of the seasonal storms.” He thought to himself, drawing his threadbare cloak about himself.

The wind was picking up, and by tomorrow at the latest the full force of the storm would be upon the town. Something about the clouds disturbed him as he looked up at them.

“I’ve seen a storm like this twice before.” Calis was suddenly next Lars. The tall elf had an unnerving way of appearing without being heard. “The first time was on the night of Tyrrians birth.”

The hairs on the back of Lars neck began to prick. “And the second time?”

“The day Thora died, and the rest of you went after the denizens of the pit. Changes are coming Lars, for good or ill.” The elf then turned and strode off in the direction of Heroes hill.

Scratching his chin, Lars shakes off the odd feeling as he enters the tavern.

“Well my boy, do the mayoral burdens weigh upon you so much that I should see you this early in the day?” The good friar says consolingly. The scent of a tantalizing stew drifts from the kitchen behind the bar. An ale is placed in front of the brooding man.

“The villagers are looking to talk with you. The town hall is tonight, here in the market square.”

“I know,” drinking the ale in one gulp, “give me another.” Handing the cup back Lars turns from the bar and catches sight of Garrote through an open shutter. The dark halfling enters the tavern and moves directly to him.

“Anything?” he asks the little gypsy.

“Well, at first no.” Garrote huffs as climbs up onto a man sized stool. “Beavis an ale!”

“At first, but then…” urges Lars.

“But then I get to talking with Maghoula. And she says there’s a locked chamber in the basement of the Watch tower.” The halfling slugs back a gulp of ale. “An iron door, with only one key.” Another swig of ale. “One key held by the Mayor.”

“A key, I believe we have in our possession.” Says Lars leaning back against the bar sipping his second cup.

The basement of the watch tower contains only three unused cells and a single heavy iron door. Trying the key in the lock Lars’ blood quickens as the door opens.

“She said Ternelmor kept the tribute here for the Skandiks.” Garrote steps lightly into the small chamber.

The two adventurers are greeted by the sight of broken barrels, crates, two upended chests, and a handful of out turned sacks. Kneeling, the halflings scoops up a palm full of forgotten coppers.

“So much for the treasury of Tegel.” Huffs the little gypsy, “What do we do now?”

“What we do now,” pausing to lock the iron door. “is keep this to ourselves. It is possible a lot of the treasure we currently have belonged here. I’m sure I can devise a way to deal with the Skandiks.”

DUSK: Market Square

Lars stands upon a trestle table overlooking a large crowd of peasants. Next to him Garrote sits with a ledger and quill pen in hand. The Heroes of Eros watch from the porch of the White horse, as other town notables join the gathering.

“Good people of Tegel,” the crowd turns, “I am Lars of Eros. My fellow survivors and I came here after the destruction of our village by the man-beasts. Ternelmor, offered us hospitality and a chance to start anew in exchange for our help with a darkness that besieged good Tegel. We agreed and in doing so revealed your Mayor as the mastermind of a plot to sacrifice all who would not convert to the hell pit of Palimdybis! We lost some of own in this endeavor, and succeeded. We have given new life to your fields and hope to your souls.” Lars casts a look to Sally and Beavis.

“You all live under the dark shadow of the Manor on the hill. A life none of you deserve, and a fate the Heroes of Eros look to change. However a more immediate matter presses. Even now the Skandiks sail from Ossary to collect their bi-annual tribute for Jarl Alsgaard. Ternelmor and the cult sacrificed that tribute to their demon. There is nothing to give the Skandiks.”

Lars is surprised at the lack of reaction from the crowd, just as he is about to continue the crowd surges forward breaking into a cacophony of cries!

  

“You’re not going to force more of that brown weed to grow in my shite field are you!”

“Where’s Sir Robert, does he know what you lot ‘ave been up too?”

“What have you done to the pale angels?”

“Are you saying we owe you coin? Cause I’ve got none to give.”

“A giant ate my goat yesterday! What do you plan to do about that!”

“Heroes bah! More trouble than your worth!”

“The angels don’t come anymore because of that Red-Sally and her Goddess!”

“All the rats ‘ave gone, an my rat pie cart business is suffering ‘cause of you all I’m sure!”

A knot of peasants begin pushing and yelling at each other, drowning out the accusations of the rest as tensions begin to rise. Others crowd together casting suspicious glances towards Alexander while a few withdraw from the crowd into the growing shadows of the evening.

“Good people!” shouts Lars getting the crowds attention. “I have heard your concerns and they have been noted. Now please, ale for you all then return home and know I will do my best for you.”

As Beavis oversees the staff of the tavern, Lars and Garrote join the rest of the party on the porch. “Did you get all of that?” asks Lars taking a deep breath.

“Yes, most of it.” States the halfling, scribbling furiously in the ledger.

Turning to the collected heroes Lars gestures to the tavern entrance. “Let’s all go inside and talk about what to do next.”

The group files into the dim common room, Beavis closes the door behind them having left the staff outside supplicating the crowd with drink. A lantern is turned up and the party is surprised to be face to face with a young nobleman.

“Well Heroes of Eros, what are you going to do?”