Goldwater Family/Wolfram/On the trail

A small group of riders left Westmoor under the cover of darkness, avoiding the occasional curious eyes. Their new, black and blue tabards and a seal of the Chief of Justice, complimented with their rough outlook and arms, were more than enough to convince the watch commander to open the gate even at night, allowing them to disappear in the nearby woods. A long ride was before them and they would not sleep for some days on their way north.

--In Kalmar, a few days before the Great debate--

"What did you say that name was again, good Sir?"

"Uh... Apollyon. Apollyon Daubeny."

The old scribe turned back towards his books, calmly browsing through the pages. He has been a bit reluctant at first, but as the Kalmar Bailiff's scribe, was one of the few chances Wolfram had to find this man in a city as big as Kalmar. Some talking to show interest and satisfy the old man's curiosity and then a small pouch of silver at the right time was more than enough to convince him to look into the city registers.

"Unfortunately, good Sir, there doesn't seem to be anyone of that name in this town. Is he a common man?"

"No, a nobleman. But not a local, either," Wolfram rubbed his eyes as he tried to avoid the disappointment in his voice. "Look, friend, I've paid a lot of silver to find this man and I have a feeling you might haven't done everything you could."

The old scribe squeaked as one of Wolfram's mercenaries grabbed him by the throat, lifting him from his chair.

"Wait, wait! He's not in the books," the man was shivering with fear, throwing quick looks at Wolfram and his men. "B-b-but, if he's a nobleman, I wouldn't know anyway! Ask in the castle, they should know him there!" A loud thump followed the man falling back into his chair, as the mercenary dropped him again.

"This is for your trouble. And also, you didn't see us." Wolfram put a single coin on the table, before patting the scribe on the head and heading out the door, followed by his companions.