Blackgrave

The gathering hall was a large, old building made entirely of logs. It had big, heavy doors that needed to be firmly pressed to open. Inside the hall were several long wooden tables, surrounded by small groups of people talking. Everyone inside looked Aredesan and shifted uneasily as Naja and Carbrey entered. An older man in fine green robes stood up as they closed the door behind them and rushed to greet them.

“Thank Providence you are all here! I’ve been expecting you.” He put his hand to his chest. “I am the one who wrote to the Order requesting your aid. I am Elder Cashtar. I called on you because my beloved daughter, Juniper, has been stolen away in the night by a silver beast of Shabetsu!”

“Do you have any idea where the beast could be?” Naja asked.

“None,” he replied somberly. “But I do know my daughter is still alive. You must hurry and find her.”

“How do you know that?” Naja studied the man closely. His eyes were shifty and rubbed his clammy hands together with a grin.

“He may be a feral beast, but he dare not hurt my daughter. The beast you seek is from the Greymane tribe. They, like all those curs in the Wolf Clan, can control themselves when Shabetsu’s curse takes root. I know he would do her no harm, because he aims to take her as his wife!” The Elder spit on the ground. “No beast will plant his seed in my daughter!”

“And has anyone actually seen the werewolf?” Carbrey chimed in.

“No. No one has seen a werewolf. But we all saw the boy had Shabestu’s mark on his arm the day my daughter went missing. Not to mention, an old sumpter horse was hacked to pieces in the night. Captain Hellek and I think he must have needed to feast to calm himself.”

“We wouldn’t happen to be able to have a look at that horse’s body?” Carbrey asked.

“No, we burned it the day after we found it. It was starting to stink up the place,” Elder Cashtar replied.

“And how long has it been since she disappeared?” Naja asked.

“Three long and terrible days. We have had no sight of either of them since. Captain Hellek organized a search party, but we can only press out so deep. The Greymane tribe lives in those woods, some of them surely carry the curse of Shabestu—most Wolf Clan do. You should take all of them out if you can. My people have lived in constant fear of a night raid for some time.”

“Is everyone here Aredesan?” Carbrey asked as he scanned the faces of all those inside.

“Well, you won’t find anyone from Wyndgyhre or Zenidar, if that’s what you're asking.” Elder Cashtar let out a slight laugh. “But there are some Wolf Clan that live among us. They mostly keep to themselves. Some have taken to our culture and join us for prayer, but others still venture to the woods and commune with the spirits and pray to the stars. We’ve questioned them, but they’ve been no help.”

His voice was bitter and full of malice with every breath. “The bastards are probably keeping him hidden somewhere, maybe even feeding him, too.” Elder Cashtar folded his arms and swayed.

“And the one who took your daughter, he was one of the Wolf Clan that lived here?” Naja asked.

“No, the one that took her is a young man who lives out in the woods with the others. Some may have abandoned their savagery in favor of living among us civilized folk like common dogs. But, I have always held a firm Doubt it would be no good, and up until that beast stole my daughter, I was surprised we were not beset with ill fortune.”

Naja held a firm gaze on Elder Cashtar.

“I see.” She suspected he was lying about something, though she couldn’t be sure what. “Is there anything else you can tell us? Who in town should we speak to?”

“Captain Hellek. He has a better lay of the surrounding land than I do. And if any of your group wishes to pray, our resident Speaker is none other than Benwall the Brave.”

Naja had heard the name mentioned a few times before. He was a famed war hero of the Wildland Wars from 15 years prior. Many held his name in praise.

“Lord Gremmelt has mentioned he is an honorable man,” Naja replied.

“Aye, I’ve heard much the same,” Carbrey added.

“You’ve heard well. If you wish to find out more about the Greymane, speak to him. He has always kept an open dialogue with those in town, and I’ve even seen him speak to the others that live out in the woods.” Elder Cashtar brought his hands together. “But as long as you don’t need anything more from me, I’ll be here or at my home.”

It was clear Elder Cashtar had withheld something and wanted the Witch Hunters to leave. Naja resisted the urge to sigh. Usually Lord Gremmelt or somebody else would have to deal with this. There might not even be a werewolf and this guy is just using his position to get his daughter back.

“Where can we find Captain Hellek?” Naja asked.

Cashtar brought his hand to his chin and gave it a scratch. “He might be on a patrol. He makes sure things around here don’t sneak up on us. We may have a militia, but they are not trained men like Hellek. Most in town feel safe with Benwall the Brave so close by.”

“Thank you, Elder Cashtar,” Naja said politely. “Lets go,” she told Carbrey, and they were off to find Captain Hellek.

Their search didn’t last long. Of all the people they saw in town, only one carried a shield and had a mace slung on their side. They spotted him patrolling the outer edge of the town and caught up with him as he rounded the circle. He was a man in his late 30’s and had signs of gray all through his short dark hair. He was shorter than Naja, though only by an inch.

“Captain Hellek?” Naja said as they closed in.

“Yes,” he replied. He looked at the two of them quickly before adding, “I take it you two are Witch Hunters?” His eyes moved from Carbrey to Naja. Both nodded.

“Elder Cashtar mentioned you had a good lay of the land. We were wondering if you had any ideas as to where we should start looking?” Naja asked.

“The woods are full of hiding spots. My men and I searched the surrounding area but came up empty handed. I admit we stayed close to town, but these woods are not exactly safe. My men are not trained formally, but they can at least hold a spear.”

“You don’t need to explain yourself,” Naja replied. “Just tell us where to start looking.”

“There is an old cave that was used decades ago for mining zinc. It's north of here at the base of the Wounded Peaks. The wyverns that live there have gotten bad over these last years. Some are even getting so brazen they are landing on the road to town.”

"Is the cave far?" Naja asked.

"It takes a few hours by foot, but the road hasn't been maintained in many years, so it's hard to follow. I can point you in the right direction, but if you want a guide, there's a sea dwarf in town who might be willing to show you the way. He goes by Bluebeard and lives with his brother, the town's smith. You'll likely find him at the tavern."

"And what do you make of all of this? Have you actually seen the so-called werewolf?" Carbrey asked.

"No, I haven't. But some around town saw Haldor with a large bite mark on his arm the day Juniper went missing. I may not have seen it myself, but it sounds like it resembled a wolf's bite." Hellek was sweating and while he talked he kept tapping his foot or hand.

"So, no one has seen the werewolf then?" Naja asked. She noticed his unease but couldn't place why.

"Not that I know of."

"And this business of the horse, what do reckon?" Carbrey asked.

"It was hacked up and left bloody and dead the night Juniper went missing."

"Is there any chance she went willingly?” Naja asked. She folders her arms. “From what we understand there may have been some kind of relationship between them."

Naja knew Captain Hellek was also hiding something. He was suspiciously on edge, almost scared for some reason. She reminded herself how Lord Gremmelt never got threatening or accusatory without some kind of hard evidence. Something in this town was amiss, and unlike before, she would have to be the one to figure it out.

"I can't say for certain.” Hellek folded his arms and whipped some sweat from his brow. “Most around town have seen Haldor bringing Juniper flowers and such, but no courtship of any kind has taken place."

"Is there anything else you could tell us?" Naja asked, trying to give him a final chance to tell her whatever he was hiding. Hellek quickly shook his head.

"No. Nothing that comes to mind,” he quickly replied as his arms dropped to his sides. “But if you need me, I'll either be at my home," he pointed to a house near the road, "or out and about in town."

"We'll find you if we need you," Naja told him.

She and Carbrey left him to go look for the others. They didn't see them enter the smithy while they were with Hellek so they rounded the circle of buildings until they found them outside of a shop. Beef was pink faced and Orthos was chuckling to himself while softly shaking his head.

"I gather it was a quick fix," Carbrey said as he eyed Beef's hand crossbow hanging from his belt.

"Hardly," Orthos replied, covering his hand to contain his laughter in front of Naja. "Go on." He gently slapped Beef’s back. "Tell them why." Beef forced a smile.

"I tried to get a good deal and even though she said no, I knew she fancied me," Beef proudly replied. "So, I asked if she was busy later and maybe we could meet up."

Orthos closed his eyes and grinned into his fist. "Okay, that is not what happened." He wiped his teary eyes and chuckled. "Your smooth talk, as you called it, upset her, then after you insulted her prices, you suggested that you had some wood she could work with. You're lucky she just told you to get out. I'm surprised she didn't smack you."

Beef tried to explain himself further, but neither Naja nor Carbrey cared much for an explanation.

"Give me your crossbow," Naja said reluctantly as she extended her hand to him. Beef held his grin as he freed his crossbow from his belt and handed it over. Naja clenched her fingers around the handle, saying “You wait here,” as she and Carbrey went inside.

Inside, there was a tall, gaunt elven woman behind a dark wooden counter with several different bows all along the wall. Most were made from oak or elm, but a few had been crafted from a dark wood that stood out from the others. A few staves and clubs were up on the wall adjacent to the counter, and two leafy potted plants hung from the ceiling.

"Greetings," the elven woman said as Naja first entered. She looked over Naja for a brief moment, eyeing her from top to bottom. "Oh, I see you're with those Witch Hunters."

"Yes," Naja replied. "But I promise we're not all so brash as our companion.” Naja smiled and placed her hand on the counter, shaking her head slowly, she said, “he hasn't been with The Order long, so try not to see us all in the same light."

"Well, I'm glad someone among you has a modicum of tact." The elven woman matched Naja’s smile and both gave a small chuckle.

"I need you to repair his crossbow." Naja placed it on the counter. “I don't care what you charge him, but it needs to be done."

"Fine," the elven woman said. "But I'm charging him extra for the hassle."

"Deal. We’ll consider it an asshole tax," Naja replied.

The elven woman smiled wide, lifting her chin ever so slightly. “I can agree to that.”

"What kind of wood are these boys made of?" Carbrey asked as he studied the dark wooden bows on the wall.

"Those are made from trees normally only found in Neamos or deep in the Blackbite forest of Rethel. I believe it is known in the common tongue as Whisper Wood."

"We’re a long way from Rethel. And I don't imagine crossing over to the land of the Fey is all too simple," Carbrey said as he moved over to a club that was made from the same wood as the bows.

"Every tree on Alger was once a part of the Blackbite forest. It wasn't until Aredesans first colonized that the forest was cut back and separated." The Elven woman raised her eyebrow. “You'd be surprised what you can find deep in the surrounding woods."

“We have similar trees in Wyndegar,” replied Carbrey. “Plenty of tricky Fey as well.”

“I’m not surprised,” the elven woman added. “Wyndegar was supposedly much closer to Alger during the Age of Flame, it's even believed by some to have been originally broken off and formed an island.”

“Never heard that one before,” Carbrey replied.

“We elves live a long time,” said the woman. She winked, pulled out some fresh string, moved the crossbow to a large vice-like machine, and worked through the process of removing the string and threading the new. While the woman worked, Naja had Beef pay. Carbrey purchased a Whisper Wood club, and added it to the assortment of other weapons that hung from his belt.

As the Elf finished, she scowled at Beef before handing him his crossbow. “Do be careful out in those woods,” she added.

“Thank you again,” replied Naja. The two exchanged smiles and the Witch Hunters made their exit.

Something was off about that woman. I know her, though it feels as if I only know her from a dream. Have I seen her before? Where? Naja tensed and a cold sweat ran down her back. You’re not with father anymore. It’s okay. He can’t hurt you now. Just breathe. Naja swallowed her spit and pushed the memories of Yashana Hill away.

“Let’s talk to the smith about Beef’s chain hook,” she said as they rounded the bend.

The forge was outside of the house beneath a large tarp, and at the anvil sat an old sea dwarf with a bald head and a short, dark gray beard. He was working on a blade and had soot rubbed deliberately across his brow. “Can I help ya,” he looked closely at the group before adding, “Witch Hunters?”

“I was looking to get my chain repaired,” Beef said as he held it up. The smith took one look at it and nodded his head.

“Aye, I can do it. But I don’t have any silver, you're going to have to hope Donna has some. I normally would have plenty, but I just used up the last of it yesterday for my brother.” He looked the chain over. “I could always shorten it down a few notches or add a few links of iron.”

“If worst comes to worst, we will shorten it. But I’ll be back before nightfall with the silver if they have it,” Beef replied. “We can talk about payment once it's done.”

“Say,” Carbrey spoke up, “you wouldn’t happen to be a Sootbrow, would you?” The dwarven smith smiled and wiped his nose with a dirty rag.

“If you know that, then you must be friends with a lot of dwarves,” replied the dwarf.

“I’ve been around plenty,” Carbrey quipped. “I just happened to notice and wanted to make sure, never know if we might need an expert on cannons.”

“Well if the time comes and the coin is plentiful, I can get you what you need.”

“We appreciate the kindness,” Carbrey said.

The four of them left the smith and started off towards the general store when Carbrey mentioned he wanted to go speak to the Wolf Clan in town before it got too dark.

“We’ll meet outside of the church to speak with Benwall after we see about getting some silver.” Naja looked up at the skyline and fading sunlight. “The sun should set within the hour, so let's hurry up before it gets dark. Are you sure you want to go alone?” she added.

“I won’t be,” Carbrey replied. “I’m going to enlist the help of Cha’Rak, hopefully they feel more open with another clanfolk around.”

“Maybe they will shed some light on this situation. Best of luck,” Naja said as the three of them took their leave.

Carbrey walked to the tavern and spotted Cha’Rak outside sitting at a table feeding his crow clumps of bread. He quickly explained the plan and Cha’Rak was eager to help.

“The others haven’t returned yet, so it isn’t a problem,” Cha’Rak replied. He scratched his crows chin and smiled slightly. “Besides, I owe the four of you my life. It's the least I can do,” he added.

Carbrey and Cha’Rak found all the Wolf Clan in Waldenhauf living in a separate arc of the outer circle. Their houses were more recently built, but looked shabby compared to the rest, as if they were built in a hurry or without care. The residence looked to be mostly women, children, or elderly. As their tribe name implied, everyone of them had gray or silver hair, even the children. Cha’Rak approached one of the men among them and spoke to him in Wulfolic about what happened with the horse.

Cabrey was unable to understand them, so he chose to entertain some children with his beautiful voice. He sang a shanty he had learned from his time on a Jorging vessel, and the children all ran around him making wolf calls and dancing. The elderly cheered from the sides, and Cha’Rak and the other man seemed to be laughing in good company.

After he had finished his shanty he gave a playful bow and the children all reciprocated. They all sang a broken up version of his shanty while chasing each other around the houses. Once Cha’Rak was finished speaking, the two of them broke away from the Greymane to talk in private.

“From what they tell me,” Cha’Rak began, “they say it was no werewolf that attacked that horse. That it had been hacked by blades, not claws or fangs.”

“And you believed them?” Carbrey asked.

Cha’Rak gave a slow nod.

“Well.” Carbrey smirked. “It’s looking more and more like there isn’t going to be a werewolf here. Just when I was hoping to see some action, too. Well, I’m off to meet the others at the church.You're welcome to come if you want.”

“I have my own hunt to worry about. I will return to the tavern to wait for my companions. Hopefully they won’t be much longer.” Cha’Rak glanced up at the fading sunlight and orange sky.

“Goodluck, and thanks again,” Carbrey said and the two went their separate ways. Alone now, Carbrey set off for the church where he spotted the others and ran to join them.