Memorial Service Held for Lord Valkrin

(Therenborough, Therengia: 371 Nissa 363)

The door to the inn opens, letting in a largish flurry of snow, and behind that, a knight. Northerner, by the look of him. The knight closes the door, and removes his helmet, revealing a bearded face, creased with concern.

The chap doggedly trudges up to the bar, where he stops and removes his greatcloak, and shakes the ice and snow from it, laying it across a barstool. He pulls one up for himself, and manages a weak smile for Baresh, motioning for the barkeep to lean close.

The Paladin orders a stout, his voice low, and eyes nearly downcast. "What will become of Therenborough and her loyal Guard now, wise Baresh?", he utters, before Baresh can turn to get his drink.

"Hrmm…?", replies Baresh, "Whatcha mean, fellow?".

"Well, our leader, Lord Valkrin, has again walked the starry road, and this time it doesn’t appear he’ll be back."

"Lord Valkrin, eh?", inquired the barkeep. "He’s the head of House Hedeon, right?"

"Was the head of House Hedeon, old friend. No longer. Now his daughter will try to take his burdens upon her shoulders. And though nobody’s said anything aloud yet, I’ve been whispered to by a good many that she’s just a child, yet, and may be unable to handle such responsibility. The faith of the Guard is wavering, and at a crucial point. Something’s got to be done, and soon.", responds the northerner.

Baresh sighs deeply, unsure how to reply to such a thing. He walks off and gets the stout. Upon setting it upon the bar in front of the Paladin, the chap says, "At any rate, good Baresh, enough of my concerns. My main business here is to have you put up a notice regarding a memorial service for the good Lord Valkrin. All are welcome."

Baresh nods, and offers a word of thanks. "When and where is it, fellow? I’ll see the work gets out.", as he offers a half-hearted smile.

It may sound strange to your ears, good Baresh, but we sometimes use an older reckoning of time. It will be held at the village chapel, in Therenborough, at 9 EST on January 21st, 2001."

With this, the Paladin places a few silvers on the bar, gathers his greatcloak and takes his stout to a table in a dim corner. Baresh watches him go, and thinks to himself, "These are certainly hard times for all. What will become of the northerners and their Guard, I wonder?"