Blackgrave

By mid afternoon, the sun had fallen behind some large puffy clouds and the town of Waldenhauf was in clear view. Birds chirped all around and the leaves rustled with the wind. On the west side of town, several large makeshift tents had been constructed beside each other. Outside of the tents, a few clanfolk were sitting on the grass with several large gray wolves prowling beside them.

“Let’s speak to the clanfolk. Ra'Selas mentioned it was a Wolf Clan man who led them to the ruins where they encountered the Witch. It’s likely we will need a similar guide,” said Lord Ros. The four set off towards the tents, but as they closed in, the wolves stood up, lowered their heads, and eyed them down.

“Friends of yours?” Kangee asked Gilt who shook his head.

“Hardly.” Gilt stared uneasily at the pack. “Arren and I are from the Rötzarhna tribe, or that’s what I think I am. Never really found out who my parents were. But I learned pretty early that Greymane can have just as much Prejudice towards me as any Aredesan.” Gilt rubbed Arren’s ear. “Just stay close by, Arren,” he told him quietly.

“Rot-zahr-na,” Lord Ros pronounced it slowly before looking at Gilt who nodded in approval. “I didn’t know Alger paid host to two different tribes of Wolf Clan. Where exactly is that tribe based from? ”

“I’m not sure,” Gilt replied with a shrug. “The old fisherman who raised me mentioned that he found me Fate first and that I must have been born during the Nameless. According to him, there was a pregnant clan woman in Denmor who went house to house begging for help during the Nameless but no one, not even him, lent her a hand. She disappeared shortly before I was found. The only reason I know the name Rötzarhna is because a sailor asked me if that was my tribe.”

“That’s terrible,” Lord Ros replied somberly. “No wonder you have no qualms about robbing children.”

Gilt chuckled. “Life is cruel, I just embrace it.”

As they neared the tents, six children darted out from the woods and surrounded them.

“Woah! Look at all that stuff!” said one of the kids. The children were all dirty and wore torn clothes. Some of them had matted hair, others looked to be riddled with lice based on their scratching. They ranged in age with most looking to be young teenagers.

“Nice dagger!” said one of the kids as he grabbed Lord Ros’ belt.

“Get off of me!” yelled Lord Ros as he slapped a child’s hand away, but there was another. Lord Ros felt his belt suddenly shift, but before he could stop it, his coin purse was gone. One of the kids had it. The children all laughed and took off running in different directions.

“Hey! Which one of you did that!” Lord Ros snapped his head back and forth, desperately trying to see which child had taken it. “Damn children,” Lord Ros said angrily as they all disappeared into the surrounding woods. He turned back to the others, asking, “Did they steal anything of yours?”

“No,” Kangee replied. “One tried, but Achi bit his finger.” Kangee’s crow made a loud triumphant caw from his shoulder and proudly flapped its wings.

“I believe Arren was too scary for the children to try,” Gilt said as he scratched at the red wolf’s neck with both hands.

“I would have loved to have been given a reason to punish them,” Ithena replied, her hand resting idle on the hilt of her saber. “However, it seems they just robbed you. Shall we pursue them?”

“No.” Lord Ros kicked the dirt at his feet. He was bitter, but gold could be replaced and time could not. “That would just be a waste of time. I didn’t have much gold on me to begin with,” Lord Ros replied.

“How do you feel about robbing children now?” asked Gilt, playfully raising his eyebrows.

“Still not good,” Lord Ros answered. “But maybe I am too trusting of children. First the girl, now this.” Lord Ros took a deep breath and let out a sigh. “Let's just forget about them. We have work to do.”

The four of them continued towards the camp until the wolves stepped forward with snarled fangs and the hair on their backs raised.

"Did you do something to anger them?" Lord Ros said to Gilt, who shook his head.

"Fuck if I know," he replied. The wolves closed in, but stopped when a man with long gray hair and a headband appeared from one of the tents.

"Enough!” he yelled and the wolves’ attitudes changed immediately. They lowered their heads and trotted off into one of the tents like mere hounds. A few other men who sat idle in the grass stood up to join him before converging on the party. "You must be the other Witch Hunters Naja spoke of," said the man.

"We are. I am Lord Ronan Ros of The Order. Who might you be?" Lord Ros replied as he pulled out his notes.

"Aldo Greymane," answered the man. "I am the leader of the Greymane tribe here in town."

Lord Ros jotted the man’s name down. "Perhaps you can help us. We're here to investigate a witch sighting. Did you by chance see her?"

Aldo shook his head. "No"— he turned his head slightly to the north—"but young Haldor has. He fought alongside your kin at the ruins and was there when they first laid eyes on her."

"Where can we find him?" Lord Ros asked, writing as he spoke.

Aldo pointed to the northernmost house at the tip of the circle of homes. "He is with Elder Cashtar's daughter. The two have been inseparable since he returned from the ruins.”

"The same ruins where the others encountered the Witch?" Lord Ros asked, pausing to look up.

"The very same. My brother, Oliver, and some of our kin were consumed by the curse of Shabetsu.” Aldo mournfully lowered his gaze. “Your companions and Haldor cleansed them at the ruins. During the battle, they encountered the Witch you seek."

"I see," Lord Ros replied as he scribbled in his notebook and circled a few words. "And your people are here because?"

"The woods are too feral for even us. Witches, Werewolves, and Ashenmancers, all manner of evil lives beyond those trees. We do not possess the strength to face these dangers," Aldo answered. "Captain Hellek and Elder Cashtar don't share my opinion, but for the time they have not forced us to leave."

"Have any of your people encountered a spirit in the woods?" Kangee asked. "One of a Blackfeather girl with long black hair and a tattered dress."

"You speak of spirits? I thought you came for a witch?" Aldo’s expression turned to surprise.

"We have." Lord Ros was quick to interject. “We have. We just happened to encounter a spirit on the way to town. They might be connected, but we won't know until we investigate further."

"The herb woman, Saldis, mentioned to me she saw something similar," Aldo replied.

"Where might we find her?" Lord Ros asked.

He pointed out the southernmost building that surrounded the church. "She has taken over the vacant shop and claimed it as her own. If she isn't there, she is out picking herbs for her potions.”

"We thank you for your time. If we have any more questions, we will be sure to ask." Lord Ros politely replied.

"Before we go," Gilt said as he looked around the tents and saw a few children running around. "A few kids stole some gold from us on our way over here. Would you happen to know anything about that?"

Aldo chuckled and a smile broke on his face. "The children who live in the woods? Orphans as I understand it. They are Aredesan children, though no one in town claims them. They show up every few days and steal food. They tried our camp, but our wolves kept them at bay."

"Do you happen to know where in the woods they can be found?" Gilt asked.

"Looking for more Witch Hunters to fill your ranks?" Aldo asked.

"Something like that," Gilt replied, playfully lifting his eyebrows.

Aldo pointed toward the wood. "To the northwest is a makeshift fort among the trees. The children have claimed it as their own.”

They left the Greymane camp and circled around the edge of town until they reached the Elder’s house. They knocked on the door but there was no answer.

From behind the house they heard two voices, a man and a woman. Lord Ros motioned for the others to join him as he made his way to the back.

There they saw a young couple sitting at a table. They were talking in a quiet, loving manner, rife with subtle inflections, momentary prolonged eye contact, and laughter to break the silence. The woman was Aredesan and the man belonged to the Greymane tribe.

On the table was a glass vase that contained a beautiful silver flower. Its pistil and stamen poured out from an open mouth of petals that curled outward. The couple noticed the four of them as they approached and the man stood to greet them.

“Ohh, hello there. You must be the other Witch Hunters,” said the man, brushing his gray locks from his face. “I’m Haldor, and this is Juniper.” The girl smiled from her seat, resting her pale hands beside a plate half full of berries.

“Hello,” she said politely.

“Hello. I am Lord Ronan Ros and we’ve been sent to investigate the Witch sighting. It’s my understanding that you could guide us to where she was last seen.”

“You’ve heard well,” Haldor replied. “I was the one who led your companions to the ruins. Little did we know a witch would be waiting for us.”

“So you saw her then?” Lord Ros’ heart swelled with fascination.

“Yes,” Haldor began. “My wolf, Djargo and I heard some of your brothers fighting outside of the ruins. I thought maybe there were more werewolves, so we ran to aid them. When we arrived, we saw it was no werebeast, but something far more sinister.”

Haldor paused for a moment, his face suddenly pale, his breathing erratic. Fear flashed in his gray eyes, and he shook his head to free himself of his stupor. “We had her surrounded, but she was able to trick us with illusions.

“And how did she escape?” Lord Ros asked. He pulled out his notes and cross referenced what Haldor said with everything that Ra'Selas mentioned.

“After we had her surrounded, darkness like smoke poured out from beneath her. She then changed herself to appear as Djargo and took off into the woods. I’m afraid myself and the others believed it truly was Djargo who took off running and let him pass.” Haldor gave Djargo a rub behind his ears. “By the time we realized what had happened, she was long gone.”

“And her eyes, they were yellow?” Lord Ros asked.

“Bright and yellow. Like two torches cutting into the blackness of the night. They gave off an unsettling glow. One that pierced into your very soul, almost like a snake,” Haldor replied. He stared off into space for a second before shaking his head and grabbing Juniper by the hand. “They were terrible things and I hope to never see them again.”

“Like a snake...” Lord Ros said under his breath as he wrote it down. Hopefully we can narrow down where the Witch is and be on our way. “Have either of you heard anything about a spirit near or around town?”

Haldor and Juniper look at one another before shaking their heads. “No,” Juniper said with a curious look. “Why do you ask?”

“We encountered spirits of some sort on the way to town. Most likely belonging to this village. They were a little girl, possibly from the Blackfeather tribe, and an old Aredesan man, likely a war veteran. The man was furious at us for speaking to the girl, and before we knew it, the girl was gone and the spirit of the man was attacking us. We tried to combat it, but had to make a quick escape to regroup. Have either of you heard anything or seen anything?”

“A Crow Clan girl?” Juniper said somewhat to herself. “I think I remember one living here when I was a child, but I can’t remember what happened to her. I think she was younger than me and sickly, so she didn’t come out much.”

“Well, if you can’t remember, no worries. Someone in town is bound to,” Lord Ros said. He turned to Haldor. “Do you think you will be able to lead us back to the ruins where you first encountered the Witch?”

Haldor nodded. “Of course.” He glanced at the sun, slowly making its descent to the west. “Though it will be dark by the time we make it, and I’m afraid you may run into difficulties once we get there.”

“Difficulties?” Lord Ros said with a curious raise of his brow.

“Some elves have taken up residence there. They passed by town shortly after the others left. Claimed the ruins were a part of their ancestral research,” Haldor replied.

“They are known as the Sword of Light,” Juniper added. “They spoke to my father before heading off.”

“The Sword of Light is here?” Ithena spoke up. “That makes things interesting.”

“I have heard that name before. What do you know of them?” Lord Ros asked.

“They are elven supremacists. Unlike their Rethellane cousins, the Sword of Light looks down on other races. Even we Zeniditions can fall victim to their Prejudice.” Ithena crossed her arms. “If they are here, we might end up at odds. The Sword of Light has close ties to the royal circle of Scrydell. It’s likely they are on official orders with the paperwork to back it up. Not to mention, they have the power to kill four Witch Hunters and make it disappear.”

“That certainly complicates things.” Lord Ros took a deep breath. “We leave first thing in the morning. I take it we'll find you here?”

“Yes,” Haldor looked across the table at Juniper and both of them smiled.

“Then I suppose that is everything we need for now,” said Lord Ros. “Thank you for your time.” Just as he was about to leave, Gilt stepped towards the table.

“That flower,” he said slowly as he eyed the silver bloom. “That’s a silver Lunalily, isn’t it?”

“It is,” Juniper replied as she picked it up and gave it a sniff. “It’s a rare flower, beautiful too. A bard that passed through town yesterday gave it to me as a gift.”

“It has many uses, that flower,” Gilt said, Greed showing in his eyes. “We will be taking it with us. It could aid us in our hunt.”

“That flower was a gift,” snapped Haldor. “Now, I appreciate all that the Witch Hunters have done for us, but I will not allow Juniper to hand over something that was intended for her.” Haldor stared into Gilt’s eyes and Djargo bared his teeth. Gilt held his stare for a moment before lifting his hands up and backing away.

“Fine, keep your stinkin’ flower,” Gilt spat. “Are we done here?”

“I believe so,” Lord Ros replied. The four of them left the house and headed to the center of town.

“You really wanted that flower, huh?” Ithena said to Gilt.

“It's valuable,” Gilt replied. “Those easily go for fifty gold pieces in the Denmor Market square.”

“Come now, that is hardly worth shaking them down in broad daylight. That’s only two hunts worth of gold,” Ithena replied.

“Yes, but its real value comes in what it can be used for. A skilled alchemist could turn that one silver lunalily into a large profit with the right know-how,” Gilt told her.

“My, my, you are full of surprises,” she replied. “I was hoping he was going to get physical. I would have loved to see Juniper’s pretty green dress with a few specks of red.” Ithena laughed, throwing her head back.

“Now that would have looked festive,” Gilt replied.

Lord Ros shook his head to what he was hearing. That is not how a Witch Hunter should act.

“Let’s check out the elven woman’s shop who disappeared,” Lord Ros told them. “If she was in fact the Witch, she might have left something behind that we can use to find her location.”