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  • Paul Owen

The Mage in the Tower


The morning sun shone through the shutters in the inn’s rooms. Some of the newly formed group were discovering that the Welcome Wench’s ale tasted better the night before than it does now. From the information they’d gathered from the villagers they understood a visit to the tower in the North East corner of Hommlett might be to their advantage.

Walking up the hard-packed dirt road they passed a few small cottages, most with some kind of industry going on inside. Up ahead was a newly constructed grey stone tower, arrow slits spiralled up the side and it was topped with battlements. They could hear the sound of construction and as they got closer could pick out the markings for what was to be a larger stronghold. Craftsmen and labourers were busy on the site, erecting scaffolding, digging ditches and marking out the shape of future buildings.

Quazmo made his way up the stone steps and the heavy iron bound draw bridge swung down to reveal a tall soldier standing in front of them. Wearing leather armour covered with a burnt orange tunic depicting a tree, he inquired what the gnome wanted.

After explaining his predicament about his caravan being robbed by some bandits in the area the gnome merchant is shown into a large circular room with a long trestle table. The party are invited to sit. Descending the circling staircase, a man who looked too young to be a wizard, arrived in the room.

“I am His Most Worshipful Mage of Hommlet, Burne, this taciturn man behind me is Rufus.” A well built, dark haired man was following Burne down the steps. He grumbled something under his bushy moustache and stood behind Burne as the mage sat at the head of the table.

“I understand you’ve had some bandit trouble in the area and as protector of this fine village I would like to find out more.”

Quazmo explained his lot after the other party members introduced themselves.

“It is most concerning,” Burne said. “I have been hearing rumours of increased activity in the wider area but none so close to our town. I see you have gathered together a fine set of helpers in your quest to get your wares returned. From what I hear there has been some activity in the nearby Moat house. It used to be an outpost for an evil temple a number of leagues from here, but it was brought down years ago. Maybe you should start your search out there. I would be most grateful to hear of your results. I’m sure the Viscount of Verbobonc would be interested in any evil uprising in the area.”

Quazmo thanked the mage and the group bade their goodbyes looking at the sketch Burne had provided to the location of the Moat house.

“It looks as though my stuff might have been taken here.” The gnome announces to the group.

“How far is it?” asked El.

“It’ll take us around two hours to get there I think from this map,” suggested Zenia looking intently at the hand drawn map.

“What are we waiting for? We’ll meet up, ready to go in 1 hour outside the Inn.” Announced Quazmo.

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