A light shines in the darkness
Erebor looked the throng of people and saw a dull, two story brown building with a strange circle adorning the front of it. Thinking of what had seen of Skrælinger on their raids and battles, he would sometimes see men wearing the same circle on a chain around their necks, he assumed it was some sort of sign to please their gods.
He hefted his bag and made his way through the crowd. He entered the building and gave a big sigh of relief. In direct contrast to the press of people and smells and sounds that overwhelmed him, here there was quiet and peace. He closed his eyes and remained still for a long moment, until he heard a deep voice ask him "May I help you?" Opening his eyes, he saw an older man in a long robe eyeing him distrustfully. He bowed slightly and stammered, "My pardons, I came here seeking help..." The man softened a bit and nodded. "That is why I am here. Let us step to the other room and you can tell me what's wrong."
The priest welcomed Erebor into a small room and directed him to set his sack and hammer down. He stood the hammer up against the wall and placed the sack to the ground next to him, but could not relax. Taking a risk, he began to tell the priest what had happened, the slaughter, waking up to the nightmare of his entire clan and tribe dead all around him. He shook his head, not knowing why he was still alive when everybody else had been killed. Nervously, he began telling about the sack and its contents. He shared that much of what was inside were treasures taken from people in battle, raids against travelers. The priest frowned when he heard about such ill gotten gains, but nodded in sympathy as he heard of the treasures, the few items that he kept that were sacred to him, to his people.
The priest, Joram Kyte, settled with Erebor. Careful of the barbarian's pride he suggested, "If you will trust me, I will hide your belongings here. As a priest and town councilor, I can assure you that the temple is safe, no one will bother your relics here. But in return, I would ask a favor of you. A few days ago, the famous flame of our town suddenly went out. A disasted for us! One of the other councilors, a friend of mine, descended into the caves under black hill, hoping to discover why the flame had gone out. We have not seen him. I want for you to go and see if you can find him. My hope is that he is still alive. Perhaps you could determine why the flame has gone out ..."