Hjore Ahrenssen

Class: Male, Human, Thorwaler

What do you want from me?

You knock on the door, but nobody answers.

A short time after you knock, a white-haired old man opens the door. He is exceedingly haggard, with a drawn and very pale face. He seems barely alive as he looks at you with mild surprise.
“Are you Hjore Ahrensson?”
“Yes,” the old man answers with a weak voice. “What do you want from me?”

You knock. The door opens just a bit, and you see a young woman’s face.
“Yes?”

“We were hoping to meet Hjore Ahrensson.”

“Forgive us, we must have made a mistake.”

Without a word, the woman closes the door. You keep looking around Ottarje.

The woman begins to weep hysterically and you can barely understand her words.
“Hjore died, just now…you’re too late”, she cries.

You express your sympathy and leave.

“We found your name in this book…”

“We are here on the hetman’s orders.”

“You know something about Hyggelik, don’t you?”

You get out the debt book and show it to him. The man hardly seems to cast a glance at it before a strange fire appears in his eyes.
“I don’t know what this is about! Get lost!!”
he slams the door in your faces.

“You think, just because I’m an old man, you can take any liberty you want, don’t you!”
with sparks of anger in his eyes, he slams the door in your faces.

He thinks for a while, before he finally begins to speak in a flat monotone.
“Yes, yes, Hyggelik, somehow I guess I’m a distant relative of his, but I can’t tell you anything. You’re better off asking Beorn Hjallasson from Angbodirtal, he’s his great-grandson. Then there are two more descendants of his in Phexcaer. Alrik Derondan and…”
he stops.
“Hmm… I forget the other name.”

The old man thinks, then he gestures weakly.
“Hold on a bit…”
he disappears inside the house, closing the door behind him.

You leave.

You wait.

About a quarter of an hour later, Hjore returns.
“Here…” he hands you a piece of parchment.
“I think this is from old Hyggelik, a treasure map or something. My father lost it once gambling with some folk in Clanegh, but I won it back. Not that it was worth the trouble, as I later found - it’s absolutely useless. Take it, if you think it’ll help.”
he hands you the map.

While you look over the parchment, Hjore is obviously still thinking.
“Yasma Thinmarsdotter, that’s the name of the girl - now I remember… that’s the family from Clanegh, but I doubt they’ll be able to help you.”

“Old Hyggelik,” Hjore reminisces.
“To think, someone is still interested in him today! Well, good luck to you. I must go lie down now. I’m not getting any younger, you know…”
he says good bye and closes the door.

A short time after your knocks, a white-haired old man opens the door. He is extremely haggard, with a drawn, very pale face. He seems to look right through you.
“I’m sure you’ve got the wrong house,” he says softly and closes the door again, before any of you can say something.

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