Blackgrave

For only being built up in the last 12 years, Sossoboro had already constructed a hospital, a prison, a chapel, and a large building that Wellers told them was Lord Altera’s workshop.

“Your brothers are in the hospital,” Captain Wellers pointed to a large square wooden building with the silver threads of Fate proudly displayed on its front. Inside was just a large room with 16 beds laid out and also functioned as the town’s morgue.

On eight of the beds laid bloated corpses of dead men. They were stripped naked and covered with a plain sheet. An old man and a young woman dressed in gowns and wearing cloth face masks were studying the bodies.

“Try not to mind the smell,” said Wellers as he covered his nose. “They were here a few days ago, investigating a spirit that's cursed us since the beginning of Chaos. Unfortunately they were never able to solve it.”

“What makes you believe it’s a spirit?” Akecheta asked.

“There are whispers around town, especially with the Crow Clan about a woman in the water. None of my men have spotted her while on watch, but those that have met their end did so at night when the fog was thick and no one could see more than a few feet in front of them. We found all the bodies in the water, including your brothers.” Captain Wellers motioned for them to follow him over to the beds.

He pointed to two of them. “These two we found first, then the next day we found this one. As for the last of the four Witch Hunters that were here, his body was never recovered.”

Gremmelt studied the faces of the three dead men. Rupert, Divas, and Taucki. He closed his eyes and rubbed his brow. That means Benard is the one in that grave. What the hell happened to you four?

“You two,” he looked over to the old man and young woman. “You’ve studied these bodies?” The old man nodded. “What do you make of these?” The man stepped forward.

“Yes, well,” he sighed. “The bodies were found in the water.” He licked his lips. “Whatever got to ‘em,” he cracked a smile, “it was mighty strong.” He moved over to Taucki’s body, the last of the three to be found. “Each of these men either pulled so hard, or were pulled so hard that their arms were dislocated.” He pointed out the bruising on the wrist. “Some have broken wrists, others, massive trauma from shoulder to chest - as if they were swung around from their arms by an ogre.”

Lord Gremmelt stepped up to the bodies and looked them over. “And the other bodies are?”

“All Bryarsmen,” replied the doctor.

Lord Gremmelt examined Rupert and Divas. Their bruising doesn’t entirely match the others. He looked over at Taucki, examining the bruises and comparing them to the others.

“Naja,” Lord Gremmelt said.

“Yes, Lord Gremmelt?” she quickly moved beside him.

“Examine these two” he pointed to Rupert and Divas. “My eyes aren't as keen as they used to be. See if you notice anything suspicious.”

Lord Gremmelt and the others stood aside while Naja carefully examined the bodies. She spent many days of her childhood working beside the old doctor back at Witchbane Keep and had become somewhat of a second pair of hands to him. After a few minutes she called everyone over and explained her observations.

“Their bruising doesn’t match the others,” she said as she moved down their bodies and stopped at their feet. She looked up at Lord Gremmelt. “Only these two have broken ankles.” She worked her way back up to the left arm of Rupert. “And, here,” she pointed to a puncture wound that was right beneath the armpit. “Divas and him both have it.”

Lord Gremmelt tapped on his chin. “Let me get a closer look.”

He moved in and studied the puncture wound. Definitely a stab wound. Someone from behind with a slender blade perhaps? “What do you say, Doctor?”

“Yes. Well, we noticed that as well. But we didn’t know what to make of it,” replied the doctor.

“We know they and some Redguar had gotten into some kind of altercation out at the copper mine, but they left before the bodies turned up,” Captain Wellers hastily added.

“Redguar? What were they doing in the town?” Lord Gremmelt asked.

“Hard to say, when I spoke to them they were cagey about their business. I assumed they were on a quest or some kind of training expedition. They were pretty green. Their so-called Captain was no older than 20.” Captain Wellers folded his arms. “Regardless, it could be that there was bad blood between them, and some level of subterfuge could have taken place. My men searched the nearby swamps for the Redguar and the missing Witch Hunter, but could find no trace of them.”

As Captain Wellers finished talking, a Zenidition man dressed in a suede nobles coat and two Bryarsmen at his side stepped in. He had pale blond hair and cold gray eyes beset with heavy dark bags beneath them.

“Ahh, here you all are,” he said in a chipper tone. “Ohh look, six of you today.” He shook his finger. “Last time they only sent four and it wasn’t enough.”

Surprise suddenly dawned on his face. “Though you must be here for another reason. My letter to the Order couldn’t have arrived yet - I only just sent it yesterday evening.” He smiled and brought his hands to his chest. “So then, might I inquire as to what six Witch Hunters are doing in town?”

“We're only here to retrieve our brothers’ bodies,” Lord Gremmelt replied. “Though we took out a werewolf on the road. Your men would do best to double their shift tonight.”

“Well, I thank you, Witch Hunter.”

“It’s Lord Gremmelt. And you are?”

“I am Eklin Altera, Vassal to Lord Bryar.” He placed a hand on his chest. “I am charged to oversee the coppermine, workshop, and run the finances of Sossaboro. If you are here, I implore you to help us. We already sent a letter to your keep, so why not solve this problem now while you are here?”

“I’ll make that decision after I learn more about it,” answered Lord Gremmelt.

Naja had broken away from the others once Vassal Altera started talking. She got to work setting up everything she needed to complete a ritual of detection - an Arcane scroll, a small bottle filled with salt water, a piece of granite, with the final material being dependent on what she wanted to detect. Because it was a spirit, she used the flesh of a zombie she had slain four months prior.

Once she had drawn the appropriate symbols and placed the bottle in the center with the flesh and granite inside it, she bit her finger, dragged the blood across the scroll and lit it ablaze. The fire burned cleanly all the way to the center of the scroll. The bottle rattled back and forth wildly before all the water turned to steam and the granite cracked into two pieces. She held it up and made sure Lord Gremmelt saw it. Two? Do they not know?

"We're going to have a look around town. Where will we be able to find you if we need?" asked Lord Gremmelt

"I'll be in my workshop. I trust Captain Wellers can familiarize you with the area." He gave Wellers a nod. "Do make haste, Witch Hunters, I haven't been able to get a wink of sleep since this all began."

"Where have the attacks taken place?" Lord Gremmelt asked before Vassal Altera could leave.

"They always happen on the bridges at night,” replied Wellers. “A heavy mist rolls in and by the time it's gone, so is one of the Bryarsmen."

"And no one has seen these attacks?" Ronso asked.

"Some of the men heard them during the changing of the guard up in the sentry tower, but it's all the same," Captain Wellers answered. “Only those who are dead have actually laid eyes on her.”

"What about the people who live above the swamps?” Akecheta asked. "Have they noticed anything?"

"The savages that live there are hardly worth your time,” replied Altera vainly. “Most don't even have the courtesy of learning the common tongue." He looked at Akecheta and Kangee with disdain.

"Perhaps some of your men will do better than my own. If you want to talk with more civilized folk, the tavern or chapel would be the best place to start. The chapel caters to Aredesan and Zenidition cultures." A haughty look fell on his face. "If you want to pray to the birds or the sky I suppose you could ask around the clanfolk, though I assume you can just go outside to do that."

Akecheta's face flushed red but he held his tongue. During his time as a Bryarsmen he had learned to keep quiet when his people were brought up in a negative light. Often someone would say they were all thieves or necromancers, only to realize Akecheta was there and fall silent.

"I think that is all, Vassal Altera. If we have questions we will drop by your workshop." Lord Gremmelt said.

“Good, good. Captain Wellers, inform me of any changes.” Vassal Altera nodded to him and took his leave.

“Is there anything I could help you with? Perhaps one of my men could go with you?” Captain Wellers asked but Lord Gremmelt raised his hand and shook his head.

“That won’t be necessary, Captain Wellers. If we have questions we know who to ask.“ Lord Gremmelt gave Captain Wellers a nod before he and the other Witch Hunters took their leave and headed out towards the chapel.

"We will stay in town for the night. Before we secure lodging, I'd like to pray." He turned toward Akecheta and Kangee. "Perhaps the two of you see what can be learned from the Crow Clan here in town. Us being there may cause difficulties."

"I used to be a Bryarsmen," Akecheta said. "If any of them know that, they're not going to trust me."

Kangee scoffed. "More Crow Clan blood is on my hands than any Bryarsmen. If they recognize me they won't just distrust me. They will likely attack." Kangee folded his arms. His crow Achi perched up on his shoulder and he scratched its chin. "Besides, I'd rather visit the chapel and pray." Lord Gremmelt brought his hand to his brow and held it in thought for a moment.

“Akecheta, go alone. Send your crow to us if things get out of hand. We will be at the tavern once we're done here." Lord Gremmelt looked up at the pale blue moon. "Be careful," he told Akecheta as he left. Everyone else followed the road to the chapel which sat beside Altera's workshop.

In contrast to the surrounding buildings, the chapel was made completely of wood and painted white. A window at the top faced east and allowed sunlight to shine inside during the morning prayer. Like every Chaos, followers of the Sunlit Flame were welcome at all hours to pray for Chaos to do no harm.

As they approached they could hear the Speaker was in the middle of a service. Lord Gremmelt put his hand up and everyone paused. He closed his eyes as he often did when he was careful listening for a sound. But it wasn’t the Speaker he had heard that caused him to listen closely, it was the sound of something moving fast. He turned his head to the side of the chapel and pulled out his silver dagger.

"Form a line!" Gremmelt shouted and the others obeyed without hesitation. From around the corner ran two blood-soaked werewolves.

"Protect the villagers!” Commanded Gremmelt, and everyone lifted their weapons up in flames.

Kangee and Ronso broke from the line and charged one of the werewolves together. All the talking in the morgue had soured Ronso's mood, and Kangee was never one to follow orders. Lord Gremmelt and the others held the line as the other beast crashed into his shield.

Lord Gremmelt’s back pressed into the doors of the chapel and they swung open with a loud bang. Screams and cries rang out as terror spread through the room. With nowhere to run, the townsfolk fled to behind the Speaker for safety. Gremmelt held his shield firm, no matter what he would not allow the creature to break through the line.

In the distance, Akecheta ran towards the others with several Bryarsmen in tow. Ronso and Kangee stepped together and struck without mercy. Kangee slashed it across the chest and its fur went up in flames. It slashed at his face, but Ronso severed its arm before it could do him harm. Blood shot from the stump and the beast let out a painful shriek.

The werewolf turned to run, but Akecheta bashed the beast in the shoulder with his mace and the Bryarsmen drove their spears into its gut. Disoriented and fading fast, the werewolf snarled and swung its claw in a sweeping motion. The Bryarsmen held their distance but Ronso was right behind the beast, slashing into its back with her halberd.

The ax head dug into the werewolves fur and it slumped forward on its knees. Kangee rushed it before it could stand and drove his sword directly into its eye. He put his foot on its shoulder and pushed it off of his blade and to the ground.

Gremmelt mustered all of his strength, and pressed the beast with his shield as hard as he could against the wall before driving his silver dagger into its leg. It pushed him off and let out a howl that drummed up dread within all that heard. The townsfolk shuddered in fear and the Speaker began softly chanting a prayer.

Terror seized Ronso’s as she raised her halberd. The beast’s gaze was overwhelming. Her hands shook and all her senses screamed for her to run, but she refused. She slammed her halberd down with her eyes closed. It hit the ground with a loud crack, and as she opened her eyes, she was greeted by her halberd broken in two.

The head of the ax had broken from the pole, and now she only held a wooden shaft. The werewolf slashed her across the chest and she fell back. It jumped on her and lunged for her throat. Its fangs were only inches away before Akecheta bashed it with his mace. It punctured the creature in the eye, and as soon as it struck, the werewolf fell limp. It still breathed, though faint. Ronso pushed it off of her and screamed as she kicked it out of anger.

“Is it dead?” one of the Bryarsmen asked.

“No, but it should be out for the time being,” Lord Gremmelt said. He knelt down and looked at its busted skull. “You nearly split its head in two, I don’t think we will have to worry about this one any longer.”

“Stupid beast,” Kangee said as he gave it a swift kick in the chest.

“Hurry and kill it!” a Bryarsmen yelled. He tried to drive his spear into its back, but Lord Gremmelt held up his hand and sternly shook his head.

“No, keep it alive. I have a plan,” he said.

Captain Wellers suddenly appeared with an uneasy expression. “Werewolves!” he shuddered. “I suppose I will have to double the guards tonight.” He noticed one of them was still breathing and reached for his sword but Gremmelt stopped him.

“Have your men tie him up and drag him out of town. His skull has been fractured.” Lord Gremmelt rifled through his pack and pulled out an Arcane scroll.

“Shall I stay?” Akecheta asked.

“No, stay the course,” Lord Gremmelt told him. “I’m going to put a mark on him and let him lead us to his den.” He pulled out a clove of garlic and crushed it in his hand, spreading the dust all over the scroll. “We’ll meet in the tavern after we get back.” Akecheta left while Lord Gremmelt finished the ritual.