Blackgrave

Gilt’s wolf Arren led the way back to town, pausing only to stop and sniff to find Djargo’s scent. After several hours of quietly walking through the forest, Lord Ros turned to Ithena. “When we pass through town, I'd like to stop and speak with Elder Cashtar.”

“What for?” she replied with a raised brow. “There is nothing to gain by speaking to him now. We know where the spirit can be found, now it's just a matter of finding the bag.”

“The bard didn’t warn of a spirit of Prejudice, he warned of Prejudice.” Lord Ros held up his hand and gestured in a circular motion with it. “What if the spirit… is drawing power from the Prejudice in town?”

“What makes you think that?” Kangee asked from behind them.

Ros turned back as he spoke, holding his hands up as he did. “Think about it. Only after the Greymanes started living in town did the spirit show up. It isn’t hard to imagine the Aredesans here developing animosity for their new neighbors.” Lord Ros folded his arms and sighed. “We are still under Chaos, but in a few short months, Prejudice will be upon us. If left alone, it could become even more powerful.”

“Whether the spirit is drawing power or not, it makes no difference. We destroy the hex bag, we destroy the spirit. It’s as simple as that,” Ithena replied. “Speaking to Elder Cashtar only serves to slow us down.”

“Regardless, we will speak to him briefly while we are here,” Lord Ros replied with as much authority as he could muster.

Ithena rolled her eyes.“Whatever you say ‘Lord’ Ros.”

It was midday when they arrived at Waldenhauf and the townsfolk were still active with the day's labor. They made their way to the gathering hall in search of Elder Cashtar. Inside, he was speaking to Captain Hellek at a table alongside several other older villagers. The group spoke in hushed tones, their brows furrowed in anger. Cashtar locked eyes with Lord Ros when they entered, and instantly rushed over to him.

“Witch Hunters,” the Elder spat. He looked them over top to bottom. “I heard more of you arrived yesterday. I take it you are here to kill that dreaded Witch your kin failed to execute?” His eyes were heavy with disdain, and his voice sang contempt.

“Originally, yes,” Lord Ros replied politely. “However, new information has led us to believe the Witch has left. As to where, we have no idea. Just that she isn’t here for now.”

“What?” Elder Cashtar’s brow dropped low, and his face flushed red with anger. “So then we just hope she does not come back?”

“That is something you will have to figure out on your own. For now, let's speak about your daughter and Haldor,” said Lord Ros.

“Bloody beast should be dead in the dirt. My daughter told me how he had turned werebeast and your companions somehow cured him with elven water. Ridiculous!” Elder Cashtar spat on the ground. “They should have ran him through the moment they found him.”

“I take it you hold a lot of ill will for the young man?” Lord Ros asked

“He carried the Curse of Shabetsu!” The elder threw up his hands.

Lord Ros stared quietly for a moment. “I see, well consider trying to get rid of those feelings. A spirit is feeding off of all the Prejudice in town, opinions like that are only bound to worsen with time. Especially considering the likely union of Juniper and Haldor.”

Elder Cashtar grew wide eyed and snarled. “Wha… What do you mean? No. I won’t hear of it. You're lying.” He shook his head. “Not true!”

Gilt smirked and threw up his arms in a shrugging manner. “I’m afraid so, old man.” He clamed his hand down on the Elder’s shoulder and smiled wide. “Your daughter has a taste for wolf, and now she’s carrying a half-blood pup of her own.”

“That is enough,” Lord Ros snapped at Gilt. “Listen, Elder. You need to drop the Prejudices you carry. Keeping them with you serves only to weigh the spirit down and cause unease.” Ros reached up and groped at the sixteen pointed sunlit sun that hung on his neck beneath his tunic. “It opens you up to Torment and brings about Mis—” Lord Ros tried to continue, but Elder Cashtar was too furious and cut him off.

“Easy for a Witch Hunter to say. You have no family of your own, nothing you’ve created just to see torn down.” He pushed past them and stormed out of the gathering hall. As he left, Captain Hellek made his way over.

“Greetings, Witch Hunters, is there something I can help you with?” Hellek cautiously asked.

“How do you feel about the Greymane tribe? Has there been any trouble with them living here?” Lord Ros asked him.

“Damn wolves are the source of all our problems,” Captan Hellek replied. “First, nearly half of them plotted to slaughter the town beneath the full moon. Second, the last Witch Hunters brought these savages and told them they could stay here. Now, we are dealing with petty thievery, something that only seldomly happened before they arrived.”

Captain Hellek folded his arms and took on a defensive tone. “I was born in this village”—he pointed to the ground beneath his feet—”and I intend to keep it safe at all costs. And as it stands right now, the Greymane tribe has overstayed their welcome. Now, it was my understanding they were only staying until this witch business was taken care of.”

He glanced around at the other townsfolk inside the gathering hall. “But there are whispers that they intend to stay for good. I guess every wolf that learns comfort becomes a dog in the end.”

“And if they have?” Kangee asked, stepping closer to the man. “What will you do?”

“It’s not a matter of if I will do anything or not,” Hellek replied. “It's a matter of if the whole town’s going to do something or not. Either way, neither me or Elder Cashtar are in control of this any more. It’s becoming a matter of when something will be done, rather than if.”

Lord Ros stepped in between the two men. “Well rest assured, the Witch is gone. She left town and though we don’t know if she will return, we assume she won’t. As for the spirit we’ve encountered, we are seeing to its destruction tonight. Now, if the Greymane tribe believes this place to be their home, it will be hard to get them to leave. Perhaps you can find some middle ground in the union of the Elder’s daughter and Haldor.”

“I’ll hear nothing of it, and neither will the townsfolk. Deal with your ghost and kick out the wolves, or we will see to it ourselves.” Hellek mirrored the anger displayed by Elder Cashtar. His Prejudice was only growing, and he left them in a hurry.

“That could have gone better,” Ithena mocked. “Come, it’s none of our business what happens here, they're not even going to pay us for the spirit. We found that by chance. We won’t even get reimbursed for this for nearly a month.” Ithena and the others left Lord Ros standing alone.

Is there nothing to be done? Did I handle this that poorly? This entire hunt has gone terribly. No one listens, no one cares. What would Benard have done here? He stood there a moment longer before shaking his head and joining the others. “Well, we know the location of the spirit, so let's just make our way there.”

The four of them left town and followed the road south until they reached the two run down shacks where they first saw the spirit of the girl. Just as the day prior, she was there standing silently next to the old shack and half-collapsed cabin just off the side of the road.

“Don’t acknowledge her, don’t even look at her,” Lord Ros whispered. “Be sure especially not to touch her. It’s clear the angry spirit will only show if we interact with the girl.” Lord Ros and the others walked to where the girl was standing, and doing their best to ignore her, began their search.

The girl silently watched them as they broke away from one another and searched the grounds for the hex bag. After a few minutes, Kangee spotted it, and called them over.

“Over here,” he said, pointing inside the half-collapsed cabin. The bag was nestled beneath a desk, pushed up against a wall. With how collapsed the roof was, reaching it through the door or window was impossible. Even if they could squeeze their way in there, the building could collapse with the slightest movement.

“It will take some time,” Kangee told them, “but if we are willing to move some of the rubbish out of the way, we should reach it before nightfall.”

“I have a better idea,” Ithena said. She raised her hand in front of her, manifesting a bright, vibrant orb of fire. She lobbed it at the house, igniting its wooden frame immediately. “There, now we just have to wait for the girl to disappear and all is well.”

“Just can’t help yourself, can ya, Wildfire?” Gilt asked with a smile.

“What can I say?” Ithena smiled, but kept her eyes fixed on the fire.

They watched the flames burn for a few hours until the spirit of the girl had long disappeared. Ithena kept it contained as it was needed. While they sat and warmed themselves with the fire, Haldor and Juniper appeared from the shadows of the treeline. They carried large bags on their backs and he had an iron sword strapped to his belt.

“Off on a night time stroll?” Lord Ros asked.

“We are on our way out of town, actually,” Haldor answered, his face red with hints of anger.

“After you spoke to my father, he was furious,” Juniper told him. “He threatened to kill Haldor and to keep me locked up.” Juniper held her face where a red mark was present. She was pale and her hands trembled. “He left, but was still very angry. I knew then we had to leave.”

“My people were tired of the threats against them and were looking to return to the woods.” Haldor furrowed his brow. “Aldo said bringing her with me would trouble the tribe. So we decided right then, we would forge our own path. We’re traveling east to make a life in Bryarsland. I’ve heard of clanfolk living among the Aredesans in harmony.”

“These lands are all cursed,” Kangee said as he appeared from the shadows. “I’ve been to the Bryarslands, and I’ll tell you now it will be no easier for you there.” He cast his icy gaze into the fire. “The only way to escape it is to make your way to Hellard's Crossing and never turn back.” Kangee turned to the two of them. “Otherwise, you just might end up as one of us.”

Fear crossed both of their faces and somehow they both grew paler.“Yes, well, best of travels.” Haldor took Juniper’s hand, and both strode off into the night.

As the cabin burned, Lord Ros stared on in silence. The hunt didn't go well, the Witch was gone, and he was returning to the keep with little information. Despite it, he didn't care. He was just happy he would make it to Benard’s Festival.