Chapter 18: Three Years Later...
“Meet at The Old Toll House. Drellin’s Ferry,” the message concluded.
The giant owl delivered identical copies of that same parchment across Elsir Vale and then winged off to northwest, back toward the Blackfens, the ancestral home of the Tiri Kitor elves.
In truth, the remnants of The Trailblazers who trekked into the Wyrmsmoke Mountains three years ago were not entirely sure who might answer the call. But they knew they needed aid if they were going to pursue this endeavor any further.
So, reluctantly, they clandestinely marked the serpentine trail leading into the slot canyon and turned and headed back along the rock-choked wash that led out toward the Dawn Way. They passed through the goblinoid territory without incident, but not without their fair share of close calls. Several days later, the Wyrmsmokes were behind them, the Dawn Way, and Drellin's Ferry ahead
The last time they passed through Drellin’s Ferry, The Old Toll House was practically the only building in the entire village that escaped The Red Hand’s destruction. But that was only days (or was it weeks?) after The Battle of Brindol. There was no telling what state it, or the town, would be in now. So much time had passed...
As it turned out, Drellin’s Ferry recovered and the expedition found affairs almost back to pre-war conditions, if not a little less populous. New homes and workshops spread across the countryside and even that venerable establishment, The Old Bridge Inn, had been rebuilt and occupied a place of prominence in front of the village Green.
But they did not turn back at the doorstep of their long-pursued quarry and march back over one hundred miles to Drellin’s Ferry to admire its prosperity. They came to see who was prepared to end the Wyrmlord’s tyranny, once and for all.
***
The Old Toll House is the largest and sturdiest building in Drellin’s Ferry, one of the original structures built by the dwarves so long ago. Now, it serves as the town hall, courtroom, jail, and Town Guard headquarters. It seems Drellin’s Ferry got advance notice of the adventurers’ arrival, if the modest spread of food and drink in the reception hall serves as any indication.
A small gathering awaits, some familiar faces, and others not. Among the familiar, Town Speaker Wiston and Captain Anitah. Speaker Wiston has lost more hair and gone grayer since the adventurers last saw him, but otherwise appears hale. He graces the adventurers with a warm smile. Captain Anitah does not smile, but she never was much for outward displays of emotion. Still, she greets the adventurers warmly and seems happy to see them in her own, reserved fashion.
Among the throng, is a short, stocky, smartly dressed, and heavily powdered man with porcine features. The man, a court representative of the Lords and Ladies of Brindol, eventually identifies himself as Lord Morton Guidry. His demeanor is guarded and nervous throughout the meeting.
A handful of others are here as well, most bearing the rough look and demeanor of mercenaries and sell-swords, in addition to the usual persons of interest, hangers-on, and gossips one might expect.
Speaker Wiston raises a goblet and clears his throat to capture the attention of the assembly.
“Lord Guidry of Brindol, Friends, it is my great honor to introduce none other than Eoni, Sister of Avandra, and Dame of Brindol and Vaxfar Leaf, Hunter of Tiri Kitor. Both, Heroes of the Battle of Brindol!” This proclamation elicits a round of cheers. Even Lord Guidry claps heartily and cheers, his flabby jowls quivering in response. Then, not wanting to commit any social faux pas, the Speaker looks about the room for any other familiar faces or persons of note.
In particular, he looks among the crowd for Valthur, Marklin, Aldara, Taerix, and Sarah. Not seeing them, he sighs and after several moments, offers the floor to Eoni.
[Private to Eoni Daflin: Hope you don't mind me putting you on the spot, but seems like something Speaker Wiston would do. He doesn't know what you're going to say, just that you asked others to meet you here]
[Private to Sarah: I made the assumption Sarah would be skulking somewhere in the back of the crowd and wanted to give you the opportunity to make your appearance on your own terms (or not) befitting your character's persona.]
[Private to GM: When the commotion has subsided, Speaker Wiston notices someone skulking in the corner. He smiles broadly and gestures in that direction, “And what have we here?”
All eyes turn in that direction.
There, seated behind a clutch of onlookers, is a non-descript young woman wearing simple traveler’s clothes beneath a homespun cloak.
“Sarah, is that you?”]
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:17, Wed 22 July 2020.