Dramatis Personae
- Tori, mixed-heritage Shamaness from Gal City
- Kildun Graax, Hyperborean Necromancer from the City-State of Khromarium
- Tyrm, Oonish (androgynous clone) Warlock from the City-State of Khromarium
- Saya'da, Yakut Berserker from the Plains of Leng
- Fiadhan, Keltic druid local to the Bryn Celli region
9:00 AM, Sun, the 8th day of Sagittarius, 582 CÆ. Cold and clear, 12 degrees.
The Tree and the Cairn
The morning dawned bitterly cold. During the night, freezing rain had coated the forests around Bryn Celli in a thin shell of ice, every branch and blade of grass glittering beneath a pale winter sun. Though the sky had largely cleared, the temperature had fallen still further.
Before departing, the party took one final look through the belongings recovered from Rhodric's hunting cabin. Hidden beneath the mattress they found a small silver engagement ring and a folded letter addressed to Eluned. The note was simple and heartfelt, asking for her hand in marriage. It painted a picture of a humble man whose thoughts often turned toward the woman he loved, making his disappearance all the more tragic.
With Taran once again serving as guide, the company set out for the place where Rhodric's broken bow had first been discovered.
The journey took nearly two hours, bringing them to a small clearing dominated by a lone ash tree. Deep claw marks scarred its trunk, reaching to about the height of a grown man. Taran explained that Rhodric's shattered bow had been found here, along with wolf tracks and the tracks of a man's boots, almost certainly the ranger's own.
The claw marks drew everyone's attention: they counted only four claws, not five. Whatever had left those wounds was no bear.
Saya'da examined the gouges with growing enthusiasm, clearly eager to test herself against whatever creature had made them. Kildun quietly readied a sling bullet.
Fiadhan admitted that until now she had assumed Rhodric himself had been the werewolf. Seeing the evidence before them caused her to question that belief. Tyrm suggested another possibility—that Rhodric had survived an attack by a werewolf and now suffered the curse himself. Combined with the missing time described in his journal, it seemed entirely possible.
If so, there might now be two werewolves haunting the forest.
Searching more carefully, Saya'da discovered tiny scraps of dried leather caught within the claw marks. Taran agreed they might well have been torn from Rhodric's hunting leathers, though nothing could be proven.
Fiadhan climbed into the ash itself, searching its lower branches. There she found old, dried blood, suggesting Rhodric had climbed the tree in desperation while his attacker clawed upward after him. Tyrm examined the damage and concluded that the beast had not attempted to climb, but had merely reached up toward someone already in the branches.
When Tori asked about the timing of the attack, Taran explained that the blood had already dried by the time the site was discovered, though the tracks were only a few days old. He could not place the attack upon any particular full moon, only remarking that Phobos waxed full every seven nights.
Another question caused Taran to pause in thought: Had anyone visited Rhodric's hunting cabin shortly after this attack? After a moment he remembered doing exactly that. The cabin had still been intact, meaning whatever had later wrecked the place must have happened more recently.
The party widened their search around the clearing. Hidden beneath fallen branches lay a crushed leather quiver. Most of its arrows had been broken, but three silver-tipped shafts remained intact.
None recognized the quiver itself, but the arrows were anything but ordinary. Each bore an unfamiliar rune, while strands of wolfsbane had been woven into the fletching. Tori believed the rune to represent death, suggesting they had been fashioned specifically for hunting and slaying lycanthropes, though only proper magical identification could confirm her suspicions.
Tyrm, Fiadhan, and Tori each kept one of the arrows.
Before leaving, Taran suddenly remembered one final detail. When the clearing had first been discovered, large wolf tracks had continued eastward—toward Hollow Cairn.
The ancient burial mound stood upon a wooded hill several hours away. Long before the company reached it, the standing stones crowning its summit could be seen rising above the surrounding trees.
Taran explained that no one knew who had raised Hollow Cairn. The place had already been ancient when Bryn Celli itself was founded more than a thousand years ago.
Fiadhan remarked only that many old tales surrounded the cairn, stories better told beside a warm hearth than while standing in a frozen forest.
As they approached, four wolves circled lazily around the hill. One caught their scent upon the wind, gave a short bark, and the entire pack disappeared into the eastern woods.
Saya'da answered them with an animal call of her own. Tyrm quietly nocked an arrow, Kildun prepared his sling.
Taran seemed unconcerned, observing that ordinary wolves usually preferred avoiding men whenever possible.
Near the cave entrance the party found numerous wolf tracks, some entering the cave, others leaving it. Mixed among them were scattered barefoot human footprints and the occasional print from an unusually large wolf. The tracks overlapped so completely that no single trail could be followed.
Tyrm climbed the hill to examine the standing stones. Time had badly weathered the carvings upon them, but traces of ancient artwork and worn glyphs remained visible. The stones themselves appeared to be nothing more than local rock, raised by forgotten hands.
Meanwhile, Kildun tied fresh wolfsbane to his lantern. Tori reminded the others that Phobos would be full again in only three nights. Though the full moon strengthened the curse, everyone knew that a true werewolf could transform at will.
Before the others had reached any decision, Saya'da and Kildun had already entered the cave.
The entrance opened into a broad chamber where the still air felt noticeably warmer than the frozen world outside. The smell of wolf musk lingered heavily throughout the cavern.
Kildun hesitated, wondering whether they ought to wait.
Saya'da's curiosity carried her onward.
Only after following her several paces did Kildun turn and call back toward the entrance. His voice echoed loudly through the stone passages, causing Saya'da to laugh.
The remainder of the party soon joined them.
Taran did not, choosing instead to remain outside, unwilling to disturb whatever lay beneath Hollow Cairn.
The company formed a cautious marching order. Their mercenary shield-men advanced first with long spears tipped in wolfsbane. Immediately behind came Saya'da and Kildun with his lantern, followed by Fiadhan and Tori, while Tyrm guarded the rear.
Before venturing deeper, they discussed Rhodric. If they found him alive, even as a werewolf, they would attempt to capture him rather than kill him. Only if no other choice remained, would they strike to slay.
The passage sloped slowly downward until it opened into another chamber where sunlight filtered through a crack overhead. Water dripped steadily into a shallow pool below.
Burial alcoves lined the walls. Many had already been disturbed, and bones lay scattered across the floor.
Fiadhan searched the ancient dead but found nothing of value. Whatever precious metals might once have accompanied them had long ago been stolen, while the few surviving fragments of bronze and iron had almost entirely corroded away.
The skeletons themselves proved far more remarkable. They resembled no modern race: heavy brows, long arms, broad chests, and bowed legs suggested an ancient people unlike any now living. Possibly beast-men, or Vhuurmis, though the party members did not have first-hand knowledge of either.
Fiadhan quietly remarked that she knew old tales concerning such folk, but chose not to elaborate. Instead she gathered lichens growing beside the pool, explaining that they possessed useful medicinal qualities.
Kildun released his undead cat to wander among the alcoves.
The next chamber was similar, though its stonework appeared noticeably finer.
While Kildun searched a collapsed burial niche without success, Saya'da noticed another crack leading upward to the surface. Using Tyrm and Kildun for support, she climbed through the narrow opening until she emerged atop the hill. There she secured a rope to one of the standing stones before descending again, leaving the escape route available should it later become necessary.
Another passage led only to a foul-smelling pit descending into darkness. Saya'da tossed a stone into its depths: no sound answered, yet every instinct warned her to keep her distance.
The party wisely withdrew. The remaining tunnel descended into the largest chamber yet discovered.
A low growling echoed from somewhere beyond the lantern's reach. Not entirely animal, nor entirely human.
Another shaft of sunlight illuminated a shallow pool while ancient burial alcoves lined the walls. Tori noticed the faded remains of sacred wards carved into the stone. Whatever warnings they once conveyed had been lost to time. Kildun searched for signs of forgotten lore but found little. Age and decay had claimed nearly everything.
As the strange growling came again, the party quietly discussed what little they actually knew of Rhodric. Only then did they realize an awkward oversight: none of them knew what the ranger looked like.
Kildun suggested using his Command spell immediately should they encounter him, and Fiadhan agreed.
Moments later a man's voice echoed through the darkness. "What? Who's that? Who is there? Stay away!" The speaker had seen their lantern.
To avoid appearing threatening, only Fiadhan, Saya'da, and Kildun advanced while the others remained several paces behind. Kildun quietly asked whether he should cast his spell at once.
Before anyone could answer, the unseen man cried out again. "No one is putting me to sleep! Who are you? Why are you here? Get away! You're in danger—terrible danger!"
The three continued forward until the lantern finally revealed its owner. The figure before them was neither fully man nor fully wolf. His body seemed trapped somewhere between the two, shifting uneasily from one form toward the other. He shrank from the lantern's light, snarling one moment and speaking the next, as though humanity and beast fought constantly for control.
Kildun began the words of his Command spell. The werewolf saw him begin the casting...
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