“Osler, my good man, the mutton is exceptional today, thank you,” I said as I sipped the honey mead that was so popular here. He didn’t recognize me in disguise, which was good, alas I wish I could have greeted him as Market, an old friend.
Osler cracked his traditional jolly smile and turned to continue his duties running the Inn. There was a light crowd this early in the day. The traditional rowdiness, tobacco filled common room was all but empty, except for a few patrons, probably consisting of merchants and a few mercenaries growling off the hangover from the night before.
It is amazing after so many years how some things stay the same. Osler looked older and moved a little slower but the inn looked the same, smelled the same and most importantly, the food tasted the same. I had to stifle a laugh without choking on my food because I was more like Osler than I let on, looking older and moving slower.
As I ran my hand over the old oaken table of the Valenwood trees native to the Gnarley forest, memories began to flood in. Every inch of the table, over the years had been carved into by would be fame chasers and adventuress, making my plate rock slightly as I tried to cut into my meal. I remember when I carved my name into this very table with four other people, marking us as the “Brave companions of the Knights of Furyondy”, seeking to immortalize ourselves into history. Our names and group all but gone from the tabletop, covered over and forgotten by our younger counterparts. Grasping my mead cup I wonder where the time has gone.
Looking forward to coming back later tonight, I finish my meal, secure a room for the night and begin to wander the streets that not that long ago were a staging area for one of the largest Furyondian campaigns ever to be assembled second only to the war of annexation from Aeredy, The Great Kingdom.
The first thing I noticed was that Hommelet had all but doubled in just a few years. Being conflict free enabled it to grow as a border town. The keep, that was only a tower and a barracks just a few years ago, had grown to become a sizable and respectable castle. Looking around, Rufus and Burne had done well, not only for themselves, more importantly, for the people of Hommlet.
After my meeting with Lord Burne, I began to walk the village, trying to get an impression of the towns feelings. What I came up with was that Hommlet was a bustle of activity. People walking, talking, making deals, bartering for goods and an overall sense of ease, much different from the last few times I was here. It lifted my spirit as well as gave me a sense of foreboding and anger that there could be a potential threat to the sanctity and prosperity of a place so full of life.
In my perusal of Hommlet, I found myself on water road, an interesting name considering the elemental connection to the area. Many people were walking to and fro, conducting business as usual. What caught my eye was a man that seemed to be following another person. The pursuer was of average height and average weight, with his cowl drawn low over his face, not in and of itself conspicuous but it was the combination of the man he was following that drew my attention. The man in the front was constantly looking around to see if he had a tail, as well, he seemed a man trained in the art of urban awareness.
At the most opportune time I decided to divert from my course and cut though the buildings to follow the two individuals and see what unfolded.
I was not long in waiting.
