Heart of Oak

The Basar Council

It took a little less than a week to arrive in Nemossos. The map he had showed the city to be under the control of Clan Marlyn. It was a bustling city with no walls, roughly ten thousand living within. Most buildings in Nemossos comprised cobblestone and thatch, with some of the more prominent structures featuring wooden roofs and walls. From a bird's perspective, the city looked almost pre-planned with organized roads rather than the squiggly mess he saw with the beastfolk town and Gelwood.

Upon entering the city limits, he shifted forms from his traveling hawk to a simple-robed deer-kin. From the outskirts, he saw mostly humans and almost no other species. A swift walk down the main street to the city's core, and he realized it was almost an exclusively human city. The sprawling market hub, with a hundred and one stalls of merchandise being sold, occupied the left side of the main road in the center of town. To the right of it was a large longhouse that looked like an upside-down galleon. Unlike the rest of the town, which had multi-story houses that appeared to be repeated stacks, this big well-kept building was only one floor. Wanting to avoid causing too much of a concern, Oakengrove disappeared down a narrow alleyway between houses and reshaped into a pale white male human in furs, similar to the general population of the city.

Walking up to the galleon-like building, he knocked on its door but there was no answer. He quickly cast his gaze skyward. It was midday. He banged his fist against the door, making the knocking noise reverberate a little louder. The door creaked open inward and a servant boy answered, "Hello, what are you here for?" He looked to be in his teens, with brown hair and brown eyes, dressed in a plain green tunic and brown pants.

Oakengrove coughed to modulate his voice a little. "I'm looking to meet with the chieftain."

The boy opened the door fully. "Chieftain Marlyn is in the dining room having lunch. Come inside and I'll let him know that you're waiting." The boy then hurried off into the next room.

Oakengrove stepped inside and closed the door. The well-decorated interior of the longhouse showcased hunting trophies and some furniture. A fireplace made of cobblestone and mortar sat cold across from the doorway, although it appeared to be more decorative than functional. He stood around for a brief minute before a burly man entered from the side room.

Greeting the traveler was a well-fed white-skinned man with long dark orange hair and an equally long multi-strand braided beard. He wore much fancier garments; a long-sleeved white tunic with red trim, green pants, and well-oiled leather shoes. He spoke with a formal glee and a very heavy and thick accent. "Welcome to my manor, traveler. To whom do I owe this meeting?"

Hesitant to reveal himself, he quickly came up with a false name and story. "Grimmolf Hanefsson. I'm a traveling fur trader."

The clan chieftain bought the ruse. "A pleasure to meet you, Hanefsson. What did you need to speak to me about?"

Oakengrove wanted to pry into some details, something that would shed some light on Castias and the recent incursions. "A couple of things. The main thing is that of Florism."

The clan chieftain threw up his hands. "Ack, you'd want to speak to the Druid if you want to know about Florism. I'm a follower, but by no means an expert in that field of study."

"One problem with that, Chieftain." Oakengrove pressed the matter further. "I've heard rumors of his disappearance sometime around midsummer?"

There was a notable reluctance from the chieftain to admit it. "Aye. Unfortunately, Druid Hranji disappeared back in the month of High Sun, and no one knows why. Is that why you've come to me?"

"Partially. I've also caught word of a big mercenary migration northward. I do a lot of trapping north of Anvil and bumped into one of them on my way back to town." Oakengrove wove a somewhat believable web of lies, hoping to pry for more information. "Are they perchance related to it?"