Abashed, H'rothgar takes a few steps back. Many were the times when he had brashly blundered in his youth when he had turned to Oopy Loopy for comfort. Even now, he makes the remembered movement, reaching for his pack within which surely Oopy must nestle. His hand returns with naught but a throw pillow he had grabbed from his room. He squeezes it, obtaining a small measure of comfort. Maybe if he could find some otter whiskers down by the river bank...

”That was Spyridon’s shield device,” Auburn replies with a solemn nod, ”Though I am surprised that you found it south of the Restin. From what tales I have gathered, Spyridon left the settlement that would eventually become Restenford alone during his time. It was a haven for pirates and smugglers then, and the warlord accepted tribute from those who docked there in exchange for not sending his soldiers to purge the place.”

“Tell me truly. Are you only seeking to safeguard Restenford, or do you intend to travel to the ruins on Bone Hill?”

A smile crosses Conkin's face. "Did we say we were protectors of Restenford? We are simple adventurers, looking to earn some coin.

We were able to assist the locals with a rodent problem for which the militia hadn't the time to attend. That led us under the abandoned guard tower and to Spyridon's dead men.

I don't recall mentioning Bone Hill," the smile on his face broadened, "But it's likely we will venture there, in due course.

Another thought then pops into his head. "Auburn, do you know of someone called Galusk? He led a group of hired watchmen, many years ago."

”I apologize. I was mistaken,” the priestess says deferentially. Nodding to Pasha, ”Your companion mentioned concerns about any present dangers associated with the ancient warlord. I thought you might be involved in keeping watch over the village. I fear that the Baron’s guard, though noble and courageous, may not be a match for some of the perils in the surrounding wilderness.”


”The ruins of Spyridon’s stronghold sit atop Bone Hill. Several intrepid souls have traveled there in hopes of finding the warlord’s treasures. All have met with disaster.”

“The stronghold has been believed haunted since it became empty, a belief that is entirely true. Though I fear that restless spirits are not the only dangers which linger there.”


”An infamous assassin, at least here within the Spindrift Islands,” she tells Conkin, ”A mercenary, lending his talents to whoever would pay the most for his services. There is a story that Galusk single handedly slew a petty king and all of his heirs who had settled in the north of Lendore, effectively dismantling their holding. He was a truly evil man.”

“Most stories say that he vanished without a trace. What ultimately became of him is a mystery.”

She considers Conkin’s account of the discovered shield quietly. ”I wonder why the soldiers were down there?” she ponders aloud.

"....and why the underground rooms were even built at all," Hoya says, finishing their hosts's thought.

"Do you have any knowledge of the hill to the east of Restenford, Bald Hill? We had issues with a pirate of sorts before arriving and found clues linking him to Bald Hill. I wonder if Restenford has two problems, in two hills, on either side of them," she asks.

"Oh my! It appears we have a lot of work ahead of us! This could be dangerous, . . and fun!" he replied with a big grin!

Pasha dipped his head to Auburn when she referenced the tone of his earlier words.  "It is in my nature to protect those who are vulnerable.  I had no intent to deceive," he apologized.  He fell silent again, listening to the High Priestess' explanation to Conkin and waiting for any additional words that might follow Hoya's query.

Conkin interjected, "That was the work of Galusk the assassin. He built the guardhouse over his underground lair. The former made his cover of leading a group of mercenary watchmen more believable. The latter was where his gang of assassins trained and planned."

"The soldiers were Spyridon deserters," Hrothgar puts in. "They ended up getting their just deserts."

Subconsciously, his hand again quests for a comforting bristly softness should he have missed the mark.

Yngvar sees Hrothgar reaching for his otter that isn't there. "I'll get you an Oopy Lupi Hrothgar." he tells him softly and pats him on the back, rolling his eyes as he turns away.

Auburn nods in understanding at Hrothgar’s comment. ”So they were seeking to escape. If the tales about Spyridon are true, I doubt they were the only ones.”

Turning her attention to Hoya, she says, ”Bald Hill is an object of superstition for many of the farmers in the area. For generations, it has been claimed that the hill is cursed, which is why nothing will grow there.”

“The hill is not cursed. The soil which covers it is infused with a great deal of stone, which makes it difficult for roots to find purchase. Nonetheless, because of the rumors, many in the area have shunned the hill. As a result, it is believed that bands of outlaws have made the place their home, where they can carry on their activities with less concern about being observed or interfered with. For the past few years, a group of orc bandits have been active on the nearby road near Bald Hill, so they may reside on or near it. There have been rumors that there are humans among their ranks, and that someone, possibly within Restenford, has been giving them information regarding some of the valuable goods traveling in and out of the village.”

Hoya nods thoughtfully at the information. "If we intend offering ongoing protection to Restenford, then Bald Hill does now seem a likely place to begin. Conkin's order of things is falling into place," she says with a nod to the halfling.

Pasha nodded along with Hoya, thinking also of the wounded merchants Auburn and her acolytes were aiding.  "Perhaps the gnolls could be added to the list, after Bald Hill.  If the trade route to Restenford is this dangerous to merchants, traffic along the route will certainly decrease, if not stop altogether."

"Something to think about, anyway."

”We aim Phyton’s service can provide a safe haven for the farmers and travelers. Healing and blessings as they are needed,” Auburn says, ”But if you were to rid the wilderness of some of these raiders, you would be doing a great service for all who make their home here. The Baron of Restenford would likely be in your debt as well. He does not have the forces needed to hunt those who make the roads perilous. He has only enough to provide his holding with protection.”

She pauses, then adds, ”If you are intent on venturing to the ruins on Bone Hill, know that it is not merely the dead that call it home. The living guard that place as well.”

Hoya nods at Auburn's sage advice, then turns to the others. "Time to pay the Baron a visit," she says.

OOC: Hoya's ready to head back.

"Perhaps we trade the service for the old guard house for us. Yes, that would work!" Yngvar interjects with a wide knowing smile!

Auburn assures the adventurers that should they need the assistance of Phyton, they are all welcome at the goddess’s temple.

It is dusk when the company reach the farms outside of Restenford. Within the village, the amber glow of lantern light begins to fill the windows of the village’s homes. At the settlement’s northern side, the party members can see the well lit exterior of the Baron’s keep in the growing dark.

At the Inn of the Dying Minotaur, Gellcuff has a hearty meal prepared for his guests. Hallie and Katrin serve the somewhat weary travelers food and drinks while a gray haired halfling seated at the bar plays a series of peaceful songs on a well used lute.

”You have made quite the impression on the villagers across the river,” Gellcuff tells the gathering, ”Apparently some them took it upon themselves to begin clearing the refuse out of that guard post, in the hope that the Baron is willing to cede it to you.”

The evening is a peaceful one. In time, Restenford settles into an untroubled sleep.

---

A steady rainfall arrives with the dawn, the sunrise muted by a pale curtain of clouds. In the taproom of the inn, a few of the Baron’s guard, Carlton and Ashfor among them, have come to partake of breakfast. Hallie delivers some freshly baked bread to the soldiers while Katrin wipes down the bar, humming a gentle tune as she works.

"Ahh, that is most excellent! We need to see the Baron and make our offer for the property! I see my sweet heart is working as hard as usual, what a wonderful beautiful woman. I shall never disappoint her either, if it is to be. May the gods smile on my endeavor!" Yngvar finishes up. "Where can I order flowers for Hallie my dear Gellcuff? She needs to be showered in her favorite flower!" He orders his breakfast along with some goats or cows milk to wash it down, it was too early to imbibe alcohol for him.

Lost in quiet contemplation the day before, Duranor finds his thoughts this morning interrupted by the rantings of a Mad man. The elf shakes his head at Yngvar's histrionics, while quietly enjoying his breakfast.

"Shall we pay the Baron a visit, then? The sooner we can enquire about the guardhouse, the better. Then maybe...a jaunt up Bald Hill?"

Hoya nods and hurriedly finishes her breakfast so that they can head to see the Baron.

Conkin feel thoroughly refreshed upon waking as he was not nursing a hangover.

Entering the common room, he sees Carlton and Ashfor and some of their comrades. "Good morning to you gentlemen. We had a fruitful discussion with the High Priestess, thank you for the advice.

You might want to let your superiors know that a group of merchants were attacked by gnolls around Tri-Top and Pebble hill."

The halfling then joins his companions, where he eats a generous portion, washed down with a mug of ale.


"Indeed, Duranor. I think we should bring up the bandits that he knows about, and then the gnolls that attacked the merchants, which he might not know about. And finally, the undead and rats we vanquished beneath the vacant guardhouse!"

”The wine and ale shop down the road to the west normally offers a selection of fresh flowers,” Gellcuff tells Yngvar with a smirk, ”Do not be afraid to haggle with them. They tend to raise their prices when dealing with newcomers.”

”She especially likes orchids,” Katrin tells the young mage quietly.

Ember nods in agreement with Conkin’s suggestion. ”I suspect that the Baron knows nothing of the undead that lurked beneath Restenford. They may not be the only such creatures here.”

”I am glad to hear that the journey proved to be a fruitful one,” Carlton tells Conkin.

”I am assigned watch on the keep’s wall for the next several days. When you have all finished your meals, I would be glad to accompany you there to make introduction of your company to the Baron.”