Blackgrave

Naja, Carbrey, Orthos, and Beef all walked up to the hedge garden that surrounded the church. The chest high hedges were well maintained and recently trimmed down from the early spring growth. A dirt pathway led directly to the church and broke off towards several cut out circles full of flowers.

Inside a ring of half bloomed flowers stood a man in a silver breastplate that brightly gleamed in the faint sunlight that shone from over the surrounding trees. He was tall and gallant. His forehead had many lines and his brown hair had begun to gray.

At length, his face carried a stern expression, but as they approached, it was kindness, not cruelty, that they found within his eyes. His gaze filled them with a warm feeling of comfort—like being wrapped in a blanket on a cold day, or laying beneath the sun on a lazy summer afternoon. The church doors were closed, and he was taking a final look of admiration at the garden that would soon be a sea of yellow and gold.

“You must be Benwall the Brave,” Naja said as they approached.

“That I am,” he replied. “You must be the Witch Hunters Elder Cashtar has called upon.”

“We are,” Naja said. “We were looking to get your opinion on what's happening in town.”

“You speak of young Haldor and Juniper?” he asked.

“Well we want to know if you have seen a werewolf,” Carbrey chimed in. Benwall earnestly shook his head.

“A werewolf has not stepped foot in Waldenhauf since my return from the war. If there had been one here, I would have sensed it,” Benwall replied.

“So you don’t think one killed that old horse do you?” Carbrey asked.

“I can’t say with absolute certainty,” Benwall replied. “I might not have sensed anything entering town, but I also didn’t get the chance to examine it before it was burned.”

“Do you think Juniper could have gone with Haldor willingly?” Naja asked him. Benwall thought about it for a moment.

“They were a young love to be sure, so it wouldn’t be a surprise. He would come to town every few days bearing woven gifts and flower tokens. Elder Cashtar was never keen on their relationship, even outright denying it as it blossomed before his eyes.”

“And do you know this Haldor personally?” Carbrey asked.

“I have spoken to him a few times. I try to speak with the Greymane tribe whenever one comes to town. He was no different.” Benwall shook his head. “I find it difficult to believe that Haldor would not come to me before he was consumed by Shabetu’s curse. I could have saved him from it.”

Benwall grabbed the sixteen pointed sun that hung from his neck. “If you do find him, and he has made the change from man to beast, I ask you just show him compassion and take him swiftly.” A sullen expression fell over Benwall’s face. “He is still young, and I can’t imagine what will become of Juniper once you take her love away.”

“Would you happen to know where the Greymane tribe camp is?” Carbrey asked.

“Yes, it isn’t too far." He motioned broadly towards the woods. “A few miles through the north west and you’ll find them. If you are set on finding them, seek out Aldo. He is a level headed man, though speak honestly when you do. He will be more cooperative if he doesn’t feel like you have something to hide.”

"Would you be able to show us the way?" Beef said. "I wouldn't mind taking a walk with such a handsome man," Beef jokingly winked at the Speaker.

Benwall brought up his hand to his mouth, chuckling behind his fist. "I suspect my wife would have thought the same. I know the way, but I haven’t left Waldenhauf since my return from the war.”

Naja glared at Beef in angry silence for a moment before saying, "I think we can find our own way if you just point us in the right direction."

"Surely you do not intend to leave tonight? The sun is beginning to set and danger lurks in the dark," Benwall warned.

"I appreciate the concern, Speaker. We're staying in town for the night. But come tomorrow morning we are investigating the old zinc mine to the north," Naja replied.

"If that is the case, then from the mine it is just a ways southeast. Once you hit the old road back to Waldenhauf, walk east until the trees conceal the Wounded Peaks. From there it is only a small trek south."

Naja and the others thanked Benwall for his time and set off towards the inn. While they walked they discussed what they had learned, Carbrey told them of how the Wolf Clan in town didn't believe a werewolf was to blame for the horse.

As the four of them rounded the bend past the gathering hall, they could hear singing coming from within the inn. There were many different voices, though one stood out from the rest.

"Why, that's the Rhyme of the Jorgman," Carbrey said as they approached, his green eyes bright with anticipation.

"I thought I recognized that tune," Orthos added.

“I’m not surprised,” Carbrey said. “We used to sing that nearly every other day aboard the Salt Stalker.”

“I certainly listened,” Orthos quipped with a playful grin.

They stepped inside the inn and found it full with townsfolk enjoying the shanty and dancing with joy. Three dwarfs lead the shanty and everyone had their tankards held high. One of the dwarves was wrapped in a strange red leather and had an oily, blue beard. Carbrey joined in to the song and easily harmonized with the dwarves as if he had sung with them a thousand times before. As did Beef and Orthos, though Orthos sang softly so others wouldn’t hear him over everyone else.

Carbrey jumped on top of a table beside the blue bearded dwarf and two of them sang opposing lines while the others took over the chorus.

While the tavern was alive with song, Naja made her way through the rumbling crowd to Cha'Rak and the other Witch Hunters who sat quietly in the corner. “I take it none of you are much for singing?" she asked.

“There isn’t enough ale in the world to make me sing,” joked Everette. He was an older Witch Hunter with dark brown hair that had grayed along the sides. “And what about you?” he asked her. “Old Gremmelt teach you how to sing?”

“Unfortunately, I must have missed that lesson,” Naja replied sarcastically. She sat down at their table and asked, “Is your hunt going well?”

Akecheta shook his head. "We made contact with the Ashenmancer, but his forces drove us away after we were separated from Cha'Rak."

“Do you think he might pass by town?” Naja asked.

“The thought crossed my mind. He’s pretty brazen to have so many undead under his command in broad daylight. I hold little Doubt that he could attack the town if he wanted.” Akecheta took a sip of his mead. “But we will be here if he does.”

"What about you?" Ra'Selas chimed in. "From what Cha'Rak says it sounds like you're being strung along."

"Unfortunately so," Naja replied. "There is a cave to the north where the so-called werewolf might be. Tomorrow we're planning on making our way out there.” She half shrugged, “Even if they may be lying, I still want to check around."

"Lies and miss direction, huh. I can't help but be reminded of Sossaboro," Akecheta said before downing the rest of his drink. "Tomorrow we're all heading back to where we first saw the Ashenmancer to try and follow the trail. We'll stop in town come nightfall if we can't find him. If your hunt is proving to be uneventful, we could use the numbers. His army may be weak, but they are large in number."

"Weak is not how I would describe them.” She moved her hand to her left side and applied a little pressure. Pain shot through her chest, it had dulled since earlier, but not by much. “More stupid than weak."

While Naja spoke to the other Witch Hunters and set up lodging with the barman, Carbrey, Orthos, and Beef introduced themselves to the dwarf with the blue beard.

"An impressive voice you have there, mate," the dwarf said to Carbrey. "And to know the Rhyme of the Jorgman, well I take it you must have been on a Jorging vessel or two.”

"Right you are,” Carbrey answered cheeridly. “Orthos and I both worked aboard the Salt Stalker out on the Ennothian sea."

“My cousin Bilbur worked the same vessel!” The dwarf smiled wide beneath his large beard. He thrust his hand forward to the three of them. “Well put er there, lads. The name's Torskaal, though most folks round here just call me Bluebeard!”

"I suppose I can see why!" Beef said as he shook his hand. "Beef Hastings the name." Torskaal gave Beef a funny look before shrugging his shoulders.

"Now, that's a funny name. But most think Torskaal is pretty funny too," he replied. "I take it that not be your birth name?"

"It's what people always called me," Beef replied.

"Well Beef Hastings, it's a pleasure to meet ya. Were you onboard a Jorging vessel too?"

"No, I've never been to sea. But I grew up on the ports of Denmor, so I've heard my fair share of shanties and tall tales from sailors and sea dwarfs."

“Carbrey,” Carbrey extended his hand and Torskaal shook it. “Always good to meet another Jorgman.”

“The feeling is mutual, lad. Now what about you, Mr. Off-tune.” Torskaal looked at Orthos who smiled and let out a chuckle.

“Orthos,” he said as he shook Torskaals hand. “I may not be as talented in singing as the others, but someone had to keep an eye on the waters while everyone was dancing and singing.”

“Right you are lad!” Torskaal chuckled. “And I’m sure the whole crew was happy to have you aboard.” He patted Orthos’ arm with his other hand as they shook. “I take it yer here for a reason, I don’t mean to pry, but hard not to notice you’re a couple of Witch Hunters.”

“That’s because we are,” Naja said as she walked up. She had heard the four of them talking from the bar and made her way over. “We're here looking into a werewolf,” she said, “but so far we aren't sure if there actually is one or not. You wouldn’t happen to know anything, would you?”

"I saw the old horse myself before Elder Casstar had it burned,” he replied. "Now I can’t say I am much of a landlubber, but I have seen my fair share of werewolf victims, and what they said this werewolf did, didn’t add up to me. Sure, the townsfolk are already scared as it is, so they believe anything, but I know better than that. That horse had no bites in it whatsoever—all of those cuts were done with a blade, not by claws or fangs.”

"And you're sure?" Naja pressed him.

"On my honor," Torskaal stood at attention and placed two fingers on his head as if he was giving a salute.

"Well I suppose we will find out more tomorrow," Naja said reluctantly. She narrowed her focus on Torskaal. "We've heard from Captain Hellek that you might be willing to guide us to an old zinc mine north of town. Is that true?" she asked.

Torskaal nodded without a second thought. "Aye. I can show you the way. Though it's too late for all that now. How's about first thing in the mornin’?"

"That works, " Naja said. "I take it we'll be able to find you at the smith's?"

"Right you are, lass. I'll be up early and outside with my pipe waiting.” Bluebeard turned towards the three men with a glow in his eyes. “Perhaps I have something that might interest you more than werewolves, if you are willing to hear a sea dwarf tell his tale that is.”

"What better way to enjoy my drink?" Beef replied with a grin.

Bluebeard laughed and called for more drinks as Naja settled into her chair beside them. Once all were nestled with their own tankards of ale, he began his story.

"Just earlier today, while I was out stretchin’ my little stubby legs, a damn wyvern came from the sky looking to make me his dinner." Torskaal's face lit up with excitement. "Ohh, the beast was mighty red in the eyes, and those very eyes were baring down on me like the bloody sun at noon. Now, I imagine that greenskin bastard thought he found himself a copper-bottom treat, but my pike did a really nasty job on his neck.”

Torskaal smiled and slammed his hand on the table.

“Stabbed right between his scales, I did. Nearly got plunged by the stinger, but I jumped out the way at the last minute! That’s when I brought up my trusty cannon, and let that grapeshot rip!" He threw his hands up high and made a scary face. "It let out a terrible scream, like thunder at midnight, it sounded. It was then I knew it was high time for me to sling my hook. I took off running and didn’t even look back. My cannon must’ve shredded the beast’s wings, because it didn’t give chase. Before I knew it, I was back to town and I had lost sight of the bastard.”

"And where did this all happen?" Carbrey asked.

"A few hours out of town. I was walking on the old road to the north. Having just got that pike as a gift for my brother, I was looking to use it. I had hoped I ran into some kobolds or maybe a couple goblins, but was tickled pink when I saw that wyvern touch down right in front of me."

“The Wounded Peaks are not far off. If we go to the cave, we might very well run into the beast.” Naja sipped her ale. It was bitter and she wasn’t typically one to drink, but with the others in such high spirits, she decided one drink would be acceptable.

“All the better if we do. Bastard still has the tip of my pike, damn things useless without it.” Torskaal pulled out his pipe and began to pack it. “Well, it’s been a pleasure, but this old sea dwarf is heading back to port.” He smiled and lit his pipe, adding, “See ya on the morrow,” as he left.

The rest of the evening was spent speaking with the other Witch Hunters and going over their gear. A few weapons were exchanged until everyone had silver. They may have been on different hunts, but they had to prepare in case there really was a werewolf somewhere out in those woods.

Before the Witch Hunters all went to sleep, Naja performed a ritual. She laid out an Arcane scroll and drew several symbols on it before placing a bottle filled with salt water, some of the undead flesh she carved earlier, and a small piece of granite in the center. Once she had assembled it all, she bit her finger, touched the blood to the scroll, and called forth her inner flame. The scroll burned all the way to the bottle which started to rattle back and forth before the entire thing shattered and produced a poof of smoke.

“What exactly does that mean?” Beef said as he watched over her. Naja stared blankly for a second.

“Nothing good,” she replied.

“It means there are so many in the area that the ritual won’t work, or that there is some kind of interference at play,” Ra'Selas explained. He looked to Naja, “Well, if your hunt proves to be nothing, we can definitely use you four with the Ashenmancer. I have a feeling he is gathering more forces now in the dead of night.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Naja replied. She assembled another ritual, though instead of undead flesh, she used a drop of cursed Shabetsu blood. The bottle rattled, and then the granite broke into three. She lifted the bottle and showed the others.

“Looks like the curse has some presence in town after all. Though they could just be on the outskirts watching. Either case, we better set up a watch and inform Captain Hellek and the others to remain indoors tonight.”

“I’ll take first watch and tell the others,” Beef said. Akecheta stood and joined him.

“I’ll go as well. Everdeen will be able to watch from the roof of the church and see if anything draws near.” Akecheta and Beef left for their patrol and the others went off to bed.