Rise of the Runelords

Sheriff Hemlock Returns

Sheriff Belor Hemlock’s return to Sandpoint was nearly as spectacular as his departure.

Nearly a full week and half before today, the Sheriff left behind a hushed crowd of onlookers. While many people still held faith in there Sheriff and Mayor, most were beginning to feel the twinges of doubt. Sheriff Hemlock rode off towards Magnimar with 5 members of the town watch, nearly a third of the combat ready garrison for a town of 1200.

Fireday, 10 Lamashan

Even the gods seem pleased on this bright blue sky day. The bay is calm and nearly the light sparkles off of it like shined emerald. The noise of a small town waking up seemed to start even earlier than usual this day as word of the end of the threat to Sandpoint has spread. Several large caravans have made camp in the nearby hinterlands. As the sun begins to crest the waves lapping against Junker’s Edge, a steady stream of visitors begin to flow into town from the various gates. Shopkeepers are opening doors and vendors are already haggling over the best locations to setup their tents.

People are excited and the town is buzzing with energy. Groups of children scurry about the main squares play fighting with sticks and more than a few of the battles are for a large bucket that is turned upside down. Shrieks of laughter and victorious cries of “The Helmet is ours!!” fill the air and mix with the aromas coming from “Sandpoint Savories.”

Just past midday, when market is in full swing the sound of hooves and a small dust cloud can be heard and seen coming from the Sandpoint Bridge.

The crowd again watched in hushed silence as Sheriff Hemlock returned because he was not alone. The sheriff rode in first with the 5 guardsmen filling in behind him. Next two strong 16 hand horses pulled a finely made coach. The driver was a chelaxian man wearing a cloak that may have once been a nice grey before the road turned it brown, a widebrimed leather hat and a scarf pulled up over his face to block the dust. Two men on horses followed up the procession, each wearing a near identical set of dull black breastplate with a deep red trim. As the men rode forward their eyes seemed to scan the crowd and those who their gaze settled up shrank back.

The coach rode with its door open and inside an Elf with midnight dark hair and a pleasant expression peered out at the crowd. He gave a small wave and a hint of a smile to those he passed as his ornate red breastplate caught the sun and gleamed.

The group proceeded through the crowd at the market square slowly. Sheriff Hemlock lead the group in a direct route to the Town House, straight down Water Street with a quick turn onto Main Street traveling past the House of Blue Stone, the Academy, The Curious Goblin and the Garrison.


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