After presenting the companions with an offer of daring-do and adventure, Kyrian did not await a reply, leaving grim Adan to explain the details and answer any questions, Talia, Vorodon, Aerex, and Mirinar may have had.
With a dramatic flare, the knight bowed and exited the inn.
Several hours later, while dining on plump, Jantirian oysters and drinking the heady gooseberry wine of the hill countries, Shallaya updated Kyrian on the last three years of her life, as well as on the general news of Jantir. Nothing fascinating nor overly memorable caught Kyrian’s ear, though he listened enraptured. Apparently Shallaya only two weeks ago, finally gave in to a marriage proposal from some ever-so-minor noble, one apparently who would overlook her unsavory profession and low birth, for her beauty and particular talents. Her wedding was to take place in two weeks time, though she hinted in no uncertain terms, that if some random elven, feline knight would ride in like a hurricane, “kidnap” her, tie her to his snow-white mount, and whisk her away to a life of hot-blooded adventure and debauchery, she would not complain strongly.
In the midst of Shallaya’s long-winded speech, Kyrian was for no rhyme or reason, reminded of the words of the desiccated fortune-teller back in the gypsy camp.
“Ye will find what ye seek, and what ye seek, shall in turn, seek to slay thee.” or something to such effect.
Later, as honey cakes, grapes, and fresh persimmons arrived for dessert, Shallaya spoke of rumors and tidings. Apparently, several knights of the Dew-Marked Rose had recently traveled to meet with the Dynast, Larnassa, at the self-styled Queen’s request, and in fact, it seemed lately that every knight, mercenary, hero, and adventurer-for-hire, was coming into Jantir, more so than usual, and gossip about town, spoke of the “need for heroes”, though the no could guess as to the reasons.
Still later, Old Lathon from the Once-Proud Goose stopped by the establishment, where Kyrian and Shallaya were dining, and exchanged pleasantries with the pair.
Lathon admitted to Kyrian that his own search for Kyrian’s mysterious maiden, amidst the streets of Jantir proved unsuccessful, and added that if the paladin was indeed traveling north, perhaps a small favor for Old Lathon was possible as well. Apparently, Lathon’s older brother, one Munsk the Cutler, owned a small stead several days north of the city, and had recently sent a letter to his brother in Jantir.
In this letter, Munsk tells of a druid who appeared on his doorstep only several weeks ago, and while drunk on Munsk’s mead, told the humble cutler about a particular copse of poplar, somewhere in the nearby forest-swamp, beside which grew a huge patch of something called [Beast Weed]. His curiosity aroused by his brother’s tale, Old Lathon visited some of Jantir’s sages and learned of the Beast Weed’s properties.
“And since ye be going in that direction, I thought, maybe, ye can visit my brother, who would happily provide ye lodging, and maybe, ye can find this insidious weed. Not a knight-worthy quest, I grant thee” Old Lathon went on smiling, honey dripping down his chin, “But think of how much coin we can sell it for, Kyrian!” he concluded.