Werewolf XL

[Mithrandin]

That morning when Jonathan decided to visit the blacksmith about the need of repair of a couple hose fittings when the comotion of some people in the street dragged him to the tavern.

 

The crowd gathered in the tavern that morning was only seen in festival days, and today it was not a festive day.

 

It was impossible to get a word from Preston, surrounded as he was of people discussing the tragic event, so Jonathan decided to get Millie, getting out he headed to the kitchen door.

 

Cathy swung the door open and threw a garbage bag out almost hitting Jonathan.

 

"Oh my pardons Jonathan, didn't see you, this is so messy in here"

 

"No worries Cathy, is Millie around?"

 

A shout from within the kitchen announced she was.

 

"Will be there in a min Preston, soup is almost done, CATHY!!"

 

"Got to go Jonathan..."

 

Jonathan then decided he should try his luck with the crowd and headed back in.

 

OOC: Dragonqueen – Jeremy 'Jem' Williams, the teenage son of a clerk

[cryptomancer]

The first flask emptied before the cleanup was complete, or in fact even really started, Enipul Mai rummaged through the various pockets and found a second smaller flask hidden away as an additional precaution.

 

"What ish red? What gentle wash of coloursh created the imovable stain? I once saw a man of coloured eyesh and coloured mind play a red coloured game."

 

Enipul Mai smiled glazedly at the looks he was getting, no-one smiled back, he didnt mind, he was feeling fuzzy now, and deadening the sences always felt better than the stress. Walkign slowly to Preston's bar to refresh his flask, the colour on Xander's sleeve burned in little spots floating in the background of his mind.

 

"Why ish there red everywhere today? Everyone ish try to hide the red of their minds, and ish shcared to see the red on the ground." Stopping and swaying in the street Enipul Mai looked around to see Xander, he couldn't find him in the crowd. Truning stowly he began his shuffle back to the bar.

 

"Xander's is in trouble for not hiding his red, he should hide it better tomorrow, too much blood on the street today to be careless." Stumbling up to the bar Enipul Mai sat and looked for Preston, deciding to wait, his mind drifted back to Xander, "He should not paint with red today, today isthe day for silver and grey."

 

Raising his voice slightly Enipul began to chant, slowly growing quieter as he waited on Preston's return, "silver and grey, silver and grey, not the time for red today."

 

 

(ooc: Change of vote to Xander/Patrick)

 

[Tanuchan]

Millie acknowledged Samuel with a nod, wondering for a bit what had made him look at her in that way; then she realized he had been also looking at Chalice. She sighed and shrugged, hoping no evil would come from her uneasiness about the weird girl. Then all of a sudden she was flooded by orders of dishes coming from Preston, almost like a full party of villagers had just arrived. It didn't take more than a few minutes to recognize Ahadrion's voice, and she wondered what the racket about food meant.

 

Obviously she did not have a chance to find out more about it, for when she had the time to peek out of the kitchen it was just in time to see the architect leaving in a hurry, arms full of packages, and Preston staring in wonder at a golden piece. Then someone slurred a few words right behind her, making her jump.

 

"Xander! Do not sneak behind me, I told you how many times that one day I'll end up hitting you with the spoon in pure self-defense reflex?" She then looked at him from head to toes, and frowned.

 

"What on earth have you been doing besides disgracing my cooking abilities by throwing up in front of everybody?" Her voice was softer, though, and she quickly grabbed a cleaning rag from Cathy's hand and dragged Xander to a corner. "Why do you keep doing this to yourself?" She cleaned part of the blood from his arm, frowning at the possible meanings of that in that fateful day. However, she also knew that he had been sinking deeper and deeper into a hallucinatory world made up of his own fears.

 

"You should have some sense left... somewhere... " Sighing, she gave the wet and now bloodied rag to Xander and turned back to kitchen, from where Shawn was calling her about the soup. "Go take care of yourself."

 

She hurried in, though the image of the blood on Xander's arm gave her goosebumps.

 

"Will be there in a min Preston, soup is almost done," she shouted over the din when she heard Preston calling her. "CATHY!!" She could made herself heard over a crowd when she wanted, without appearing to be rude or impatient, and her voice carried to the back door where she could see Cathy's back. "Done with it? Come, I need you -- do wash your hands, girl!" she added as she came straight back to the table.

 

Soon the smell of food permeated through the tavern, and she managed also to sneak something strenghtening for Preston who seemed to be getting a bit frazzled over all the noise and excitement on his tavern.

[Patrick]

Go take care of yourself...of yourself...take care...take care of yourself. Meaningless words strung together and somehow managing to still stay meaningless. Pah, thinking was especially hard today. His arm was still bleeding, washing it seemed to have opened the shallow wound yet again. He left the tavern blood slowly dripping from his arm onto the floor, leaving a red trail behind and hostile glances directed at his back.

 

Take care of yourself...he repeated the words in his thoughts. He knew a perfect way of doing that and lifted his hand to light his pipe. But it was already lit. He sighed and took several long puffs.

 

The damp and bloody rag fell a sickening splat in the dust next to him. He followed it, eyes glazed, already travelling in a vastly different world.

 

OOC: looks like I'll have to vote for Chalice Tantrella/gabrielcharon for purposes of staying alive and all that.

[Mynx]

Amidst all the debate, the day passed, until the setting sun brought with it a new urgency.

Find the wolf before the sun sets.

An unspoken goal, but one felt by all. If the wolf wasn’t caught before nightfall, who knew what would happen next?

But who to target? Who to accuse? Who was the most likely wolf?

Names were cast about, two in particular, until the town was almost divided by it. Eventually, however, they decided on the one who was known to sleep under the moon at night. She always had been a bit strange, they told one another as they built the pyre and erected the stake.

They repeated this so called evidence as Chalice was found and dragged screaming to the stake.

“No! No I’m not the wolf!” she sobbed as the fire was lit. The villagers all stayed as the flames crept higher, devouring the wood before finding her flesh. Chalice’s screams and pleas echoed into the night as the villagers watched her burn, grimacing slightly at the stench of burning flesh. They told themselves this was for the greater good. And yet...even as Chalice expired, she had not changed form. They had no proof to allay the worry that they had made a mistake.

The howl that filled the air as everyone returned to their homes that night only confirmed the mistake.

 

 

OOC: Votes led to a tie, broken by the flip of a coin. Chalice, although a bit strange, was a harmless villager. Better luck next time. It is now Night Phase. Specials, PM me your choices.

[Tanuchan]

In the cold of this night

moon bright

moon bite

Pale face, silvery light

world wrapped in deceitful peace

 

Howling nights, fearful nights

humanity lost

turned into frost

Roaming the roads, mind lost

riding, hiding, unknown host

 

In the cold of all nights

moon guile

 

moon bile

 

 

A chill breeze came from the open window, ruffling the page she had just written. Millie slowly turned her eyes towards the night and let the quill droop in her hand, glaring at the sliver of the full moon she could just see at the upper corner of her window. A distant howling could be heard, and she shivered. Chalice had been another victim, just it had not been wolf fangs that had killed her. She hoped that somehow there was a turning aside, that the beast chose to kill among the forest beasts and not in the village. She hoped that guile was not in the beast, just in the moon.

 

Trying to mute Chalice's screams and pleas in her mind's ears, she closed the window with a prayer to whatever gods there were that somehow the beast could be thwarted and punished. And, being more practical, closed and barred her door as she heard the noise of Preston doing the same below, securing the tavern as possible.

[cryptomancer]

Drifting in and out of sleep was usual for Enipul Mai, as he say in his cushioned rocking chair and held tight to the small bottle of fortified wine that gave him somethign to drink should he wake fully.

 

For many years he had not bothered to bolt the door, no reason to really, if something wanted to get it it would. and he would rather face that asleep than awake and scared.

 

In the time between wakefulness and sleep the mind plays games, Enipul watched the shadows dance that night, wondering who's shadow would lie still come morning, he wondered what Xander was painting.

 

[Mynx]

Preston brooded to himself as he wiped the tables down at his tavern. Two people dead already, one of them by the townsfolk's own hands.

It was bad enough that the werewolf had returned, but that they had burned one of their own at the stake...

Sighing as he finished the last table, Preston returned to the bar and began to finish wiping down the glasses. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't notice when the door creaked open.

It wasn't until a cold breeze came in that Preston frowned and looked up from his task. The mug in his hand fell to the floor and shattered as Preston saw the two wolves in the doorway, everything about them feral and wild except for a certain knowing look in their eyes. An awareness not owned by the true, wild wolf.

"Werewolves," Preston hissed, backing against the wall before opening his mouth to cry out for help or attention.

He'd barely drawn breath when the first one moved, leaping effortlessly across the bar and lunging for his throat. Preston managed to get his hand up in front of his face, crying out in pain as the werewolf's teeth closed on his wrist, pulling Preston down while the other one made a lunge for his stomach.

Preston felt something tearing, felt pain, but was only dimly aware of it as the first wolf went again for his throat, this time succeeding.

His world faded slowly, painfully, to the sound of growling and tearing flesh.

 

His remains were discovered the next morning, scattered to the farthest reaches of the tavern's room, the bloodied wolf tracks disappearing into the dewy grass...

 

OOC: Lord Panther/Preston was a Villager. Day Phase for 48 hours

[cryptomancer]

The crowd was gathered around the tavern when Enipul Mai arrived, still drinking the last of his nighttime bottle, eyes glazed as he stared at the taven and the red stains that littered the walls and floor.

 

"Preshton! No! Why him? No! thatsh jusht wrong and, why? why him? where'sh Millie? Preshton!"

 

Enipul Mai, fueled by the alcohol and anger lashed out and punched the doorway and collapsed against the wall.

 

"Red red alwaysh red, moon was red, wash it away, wash it away, clean it all away and let him resht." Enipul torn his shirt and used the tattered end to mop hopelessly at the stains of red.

 

"Follow the red, follow the red find the trailsh of the dead. Red hidesh in red, hidesh under the shkin, hidesh the tails of the beast within."

 

Enipul Mai stopped and looked around, "Find the shtain, it wash him, it was Xander, always letting the mind free, shmoking and loshing hish humanity, shleevesh were red!"

 

Enipul didnt hide his anger, inhibitions of alcohol fuels grief turned to hot rage, "Take him! Find him! what was he painting last night? Pretty printsh in red! Find him!"

 

 

(ooc: Vote for Xander/Patrick)

[Hjolnai]

Ahadrion marched on to the scene, then pointed and shouted "Xliaer trpliy zhanclia!" at Enipul Mai. He mimed drinking, presented a copper coin and then made a snarling face and sound. Then he burst into tears, flung the coin into the bushes and ran back into his fortified home, where he noisily bolted the door.

 

Minutes later, he emerged, face still red, but somewhat calmer. He acted apologetic to Enipul, but still visibly distrusted him. While Ahadrion tried to remain out of arm's reach of everyone, he most obviously avoided Xander, Enipul and (strangly) Millie.

 

OOC: My current vote is for Enipul, but I may change my mind later (most of the day phase isn't over yet).

[Tanuchan]

Millie sat at a corner of the tavern, stunned and speechless. Silent tears still surfaced now and again, after the crying crisis she had had in the morning. She had been ready to go downstairs, to open the kitchen; then she heard the terrified yelling of Cathy, who was always the first to arrive at the tavern and usually did it a few minutes before Millie herself appeared with the keys. The stench of blood reached her at the top of the stairs, and she ran down praying it had not happened.

 

Preston... no, not Preston... why him, why would a beast tear that gentle heart out... it was here in the tavern tonight... not late when everybody is asleep but while it was still being cleaned... why not me, why him, I should have been helping him but he saw how tired I was and sent me up ... why him, why? Her thoughts ran in circles, in the verge of madness, as she hid the face in her hands. Sorry for letting you alone, Preston... should have stayed, at least you wouldn't have been alone, maybe in two there would have been a chance... even though a girl would never be a match for a beast...

 

Finally the whispers around her found a way into her mind, and she heard Enipul. He was almost chanting about Xander's blood, the same blood she had cleaned the day before, the same blood that could have been Preston's... but no, that had been the previous day. Another dead friend.

 

Xander... Xander? He should be harmful only to himself, have I ever seen him actually going against anyone but himself? But... he's hallucinating most of the time lately.He lives in his own world. What happens in his world? She gazed towards the crowd, rested eyes on Enipul for a while then started searching for Xander. He was nowhere to be seen yet... or maybe he was just in some shadowed corner? A corner of his mind?

 

Millie felt like screaming, or running away towards the fresh waters of the lake not far into the woods for a dive to cool her feverish mind. She struggled for calm, and wished for someone who were not madly whispering or even shouting about the kill and the beast and how they should hunt it down.

 

A hand came to rest gently on her shoulder, and she looked up in surprise.

 

~~~~~

OOC: no vote yet; feel free to be the one who interrupted Millie's thoughts... it might have been Cathy otherwise

[Patrick]

Millie looked up and was surprised to see Xander staring at her. He looked clearly troubled by something. After a silence of several seconds he spoke in a shaky voice.

 

"I wanted to thank you for all the lovely food and your kindness," he managed to stammer. He then handed a rolled up sheet of canvas, about one foot long to Millie. Before she had a chance to even say thank you, Xander turned and very happy with the way he had for once managed to act sociably sat down at his usual spot in the corner.

 

As Millie unrolled the canvas she could see that it was but a painting of a field of yellow flowers, with gentle puffy white clouds dotting the sky above.

[GLJordan]

upon arriving upon the scene and seeing the sight, Giles then hurried to a outside and out of the way part of the tavern to lose the contents of his stomach. Once he stopped heaving and cleaned himself up as much as he could he went to see about consoling Millie

 

no suspects right now

[Savage Dragon]

As Samuel approached the bar he immediately sensed that things had gotten worse. The crowd gathered was much too large for this early in the morning, even Millie's famous cooking couldn't rouse this many people from bed so early.

 

And with that thought Samuel's heart jumped up into his throat. Millie. He broke out into a run as he prayed, for the first time in a long while, that she would be alright. He burst through the door, breathing heavily, and scanned the room for her. The stench in the room was horrible and the crowd so packed that it made it impossible for him to immediately find anyone. He pushed his way through the crowd as best as he could.

 

Finally he spotted her and he let out a sigh, slowly he felt his breathing return to normal. She was visibly upset but she was in one piece. Samuel felt very relieved, he felt saddened by the tragic death of poor Preston, but mostly he just felt relieved. Her cheeks were wet and she was shaking very slightly. She looked like she was lost, she looked scared, she looked like she needed someone to give her some comfort. But Samuel knew he wasn't up to the task, he had never been a man of words. He didn't know how to ease anothers pain or how to rock a child to sleep. His life knew no softness.

 

And as if to confirm his thoughts he stood and silently watched as Xander sat by her side and gave her his gift.

 

Samuel turned and left without speaking to anyone. It was all just as well, he needed to get back to his shop, recent events had more than tripled his work load as customer after customer had come in with rusty weaponry in need of sharpening.

[Tanuchan]

Millie gazed at the painting, raised eyes to Xander -- finding him gone -- then around herself, seemingly lost. Then her eyes were drawn again to the painting, so with an effort she concentrated on it.

 

The white of the clouds against the purest of blues made her sigh, bringing memories of perfect Summer days from long ago. She used to lay on the grass near the lake and gaze at the sky, while her older brother pointed at shapes he could find and invented stories about them, using the whole sky as a stage. Unconsciously she looked at each cloud, trying to put a name to its shape.

 

Wings... a bird? Bird of prey maybe? Hunting down... a curled-up duck... waves in a sea, blue sea... while from behind a rock on the shore something waits... something....

 

She blanked her mind at the shape her mind would see in a second more, and turned back to the yellow flowers. They carpeted the field, yellow-against-green, all gazing towards an unseen sun. Darkish center, bright yellow petals mostly, some in the shade of others... still, all sunflowers worshipping something distant and grand.

 

Millie's fingers followed the line of flowers, while she stared as if hypnotized. A voice intruded, piercing through her shaken mind, and she looked up now to see Giles. He seemed to be worried about her, his face and gestures conveying sympathy at her loss; but she could not put meaning to the movement of his lips, as the words did not reach her mind.

 

It was a monstrous effort for Millie to pull herself together enough to answer Giles, and she let him put his arms around her in a concerned embrace. Someone else offered her some scented tea, which she took gratefully.

 

A while later, she went to Xander. He seemed to be quite lost in his own thoughts, but blinked at the plate being pushed in front of him.

 

"Thank you for the painting, Xander. It brought nice memories back." She tried a tired smile, and just nodded towards the plate. "I fear this isn't my usual food, Cathy made most of it... but I hope it helps you through your day."

 

Millie could focus enough on the smell of the food to know that it was slightly amiss, the seasoning not exactly what she would have chosen for the occasion, but she also knew that it was the best she could do for then. The tavern was full, but for once people were not demanding food or drinks, just trying to offer what help they could and also point fingers at each other. Millie knew Preston would have wanted "his" folk to have a chance to relax and think with their minds and not only with their hearts, and in his memory she had gone to the kitchen and, thanks to Cathy and Shawn, managed to put a simple meal together to be served to the townspeople.

 

As someone asked her what she would do, and what would happen to the tavern, she just shook her head. And she answered before she knew what to answer, and then blinked in surprise as her heart agreed with her and something told her it was the right thing to do.

 

"The tavern's routine will be kept until someone comes to run it as Preston would have wished. Other than that, I don't know."

 

Leaving her helpers running the kitchen, Millie left the tavern. Voices raised behind her, and she could hear names being called, accusations being flung. She needed to breathe, she needed a calmer place where people would not shout all around her, or keep asking questions about the tavern and Preston. She needed a bit of clarity, she needed to stop her own mind that was looking for suspicious behaviour in the folk she thought she had known pretty well.

 

There is a bit of weirdness in everybody... no one is completely free of it... Her wayward mind jumped immediately to other people, who she would not usually see at the tavern. Sisie, who was the terror of the boys. Jem, who sometimes did the odd job delivering goods to her. Can children be turned into beasts? Scenes of an uppity girl tormenting the boys her age came to her mind, associated to the smell of flour from the Mill. I bet the boys would say that yes, they can...

 

She forced a breathe in, scowling at herself. Stop it. Next, you will be shouting mostly baseless accusations like those people at the tavern.

 

A distant clanging sound then reached her ears, rhythmic and clear, a hint of order in the chaos of her mind. She paused, took her bearings, then followed the sound -- she knew what it was, now.

 

Samuel hammered and hammered, lost in the rhythm of it, apparently following some image only his mind could see. Millie stood at the door, and after some hesitation stepped in.

 

It was warm, the forge's heat welcoming her mixed with the cool spring air that came in with her. The noise of metal against metal was loud, but a welcome change for Millie: sometimes human voices were too passionate, too loud, too intrusive.

She sighed in that small haven, thanking whatever god there was for that respite. And as low as it was, that sigh reached Samuel's ears and he looked at her, surprised.

 

"Sorry, Samuel... I don't want to intrude... but can I just sit here in the corner? There is peace here that I cannot find in the tavern today..." Not today, and maybe not for a long time.

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~

OOC: Vote for Harmony/Sisie Dean

[Patrick]

Xander hoped that he had given one of his pretty paintings to Millie. Not one of the dark ones. He tried to burn those whenever he got the chance...but lately...lately...sometimes he wasn't even sure of his own name. He only knew that he had to have his smoke, otherwise his mind would descend into madness.

 

He realised he was stuffing his pipe with the weed. Here...in the middle of the tavern. He quickly stuffed the pipe into his shirt pocket, spilling half of the contents onto the floor. He was about to pick them up when Millie brought him a plate of food. He was ravenously hungry. It felt like several days since he had had something to eat and it probably was. The herbs muddled his mind, throwing even simple thoughts off track.

 

His plate was suddenly empty. He checked the floor, expecting to see most of its contents there. But the floor was still clean from Preston's work of the night before. He needed to paint...needed to get his thoughts onto a canvas. He needed to...he needed to...he really needed to stop smoking his life away. But he was afraid. Afraid of the nightmares...of the visions. Afraid of the visions going away.

 

They had become a constant companion...a faithful companion. Always there when he needed them. Always there when he needed a comforting soul. There in his darkest hours, guiding his hands which painted...which painted horrors. He shuddered.

 

"Cathy, I need a drink," he said, lightly brushing the girl's sleeve. "As strong as it gets. I need to clear my thoughts."

 

As strong as it gets was apparently the stuff that Enipul had whenever he could get his hands on it. It tasted foul, felt foul and made Xander cough after every swallow. But it helped clear his mind. At least a bit. Half-drunk, his mind was still sharper than when he smoked his trademark pipe, clearing his mind of conscious thoughts and relying on his visions.

 

He wished he could help people...wished he could...but he was only an addict with enough problems of his own. How could he help anyone if he couldn't even help himself?

 

The atrocious drink warmed him...it was an unwelcome feeling. How could that town drunk be used to drinking this every single day? Everyone had his own drug...for some it was a smile of a customer, for others it was a herb collected and then dried meticulously before being stuffed into a pipe. For others it was a disgusting liquor, taken every day in large quantities.

 

Xander spat the rest of his drink back into his glass and withdrew his pipe from his pocket. He had his own drug and it was more than enough. He didn't need anything else.

 

OOC: Vote for Enipul Mai / Cryptomancer.

[Mithrandin]

Knowing what he knows about farming and plants Jonathan did not know what to do, what to think, he spent day on his back porch, gazing the distance, drawing breaths on his pipe every now and then.

 

Absence is a weird and strange form of presence was his last though before his wife call him inside for supper.

 

OOC: Vote for Harmony/Sisie Dean

[Venefyxatu]

Ezekiel went to the tavern like everyone else, remembering from his days at the court that being absent could be deadlier than a blade, deadlier than being caught alone by a werewolf. It was a pity that the owner was dead, because on the few occasions that Ezekiel had been there, he'd seen the man running a very fine establishment. The atmosphere was different now, but then again, that was to be expected.

 

As there seemed to be plenty of food being served, Ezekiel also ordered himself a plate and, almost to his surprise, discovered that it was quite good. No match for what Alex could cook up, but still very good. In a rare moment of kindness, he stopped the girl serving him for a moment.

 

"If I had realized the food was this good here, I would have come to eat here more often."

 

Seeing her somewhat surprised reaction he added, in a rare moment of kindness, "Tell ... Millie, I believe? Tell her that if she needs any help here now that ... things are the way they are, she should feel free to ask my servant, Alex."

 

He watched the girl nod and hurry away, then calmly finished his meal, making some more conversation with a few locals who happened to be close enough. He discovered that while everyone was talking about the slaughter, nobody had much more to say about it than accusations ... and none of them could agree.

 

 

 

Later that night, back at home, he wrote several letters, hoping he would be alive the next day to give them to the messenger.

 

 

OOC: Vote for Patrick/Xander, just to make it a three-way tie

Edited December 6, 2008 by Venefyxatu

[Savage Dragon]

When Samuel had first felt the cool breeze sweep through his shop, he had believed the door had unlatched itself once again and thought nothing of it, merely glad for the cold touch upon his brow as it made its way across the room. The feminine sigh that followed it though signaled the wind had not been alone in entering his shop and when he turned he was surprised to find the very face that he had just been dwelling on.

 

 

"Sorry, Samuel... I don't want to intrude... but can I just sit here in the corner? There is peace here that I cannot find in the tavern today..."

 

Samuel struggled for a moment to find the right words in response and finding none, he merely nodded his head and pointed to the lone chair in the shop that resided in the corner. As she made herself comfortable he resumed work, at first nervous by her presence but soon he found it a comfort to have her near and settled into his rhythm. She spent most of the day there, asking him about what he was doing, grateful for a distraction. How long they spent that way he couldn't say but soon the sun sank behind the distant mountains and the air turned from chilly to downright cold. Slowly her chair had moved closer to the warmth of the forge, bringing her closer to Samuel as well until he could, if he focused on it, feel her gentle breath against his skin as he worked.

 

Soon Samuel wiped his brow and set down the hammer, his work done for the day. He looked over his shoulder to see Millie had dozed off in her chair. Not wanting to wake her, he set about cleaning his shop as quietly as possible but despite his efforts when he finished he turned to find her eyes open and her face wearing the smile of the recently woken. He realized it was the first time he had seen a smile on her face all day.

 

"Listen," he started, "It's getting to be pretty dark out and what with the recent events at the tavern i thought you might.... well i got a spare bed and all, it ain't been used now for... well for some time now. Anyways if you wanted a place to bed down for the night, you are more than welcome."

[Tanuchan]

Millie woke up slowly, first just listening to the soft sound of someone sweeping around, then setting tools in their places. Then she opened eyes and couldn't avoid a smile -- it felt good to be able to relax, and she realized how much she had needed and enjoyed that afternoon talking about something that was not food or gossip.

 

Samuel looked embarrassed, and stammering a bit he made an invitation.

"Listen," he started, "It's getting to be pretty dark out and what with the recent events at the tavern i thought you might.... well i got a spare bed and all, it ain't been used now for... well for some time now. Anyways if you wanted a place to bed down for the night, you are more than welcome."

 

She blinked in surprise; she had not noticed at first that it was after sunset, and then she would never have expected Samuel, always so quiet and close when coming to women, to offer her a place to stay. She considered it for some moments, gazing at the window -- she could again see the moon, rising against the dark sky.

 

"It is very considerate of you, Samuel... but I don't want to intrude... "

 

The blacksmith swallowed a sigh, and told himself that he should have expected that; obviously Millie was not a girl who would accept that kind of invitation from a person she was not close to...

 

"... though... tonight of all nights I don't feel like walking out there... nor staying alone at the tavern... if you really do not mind me staying at your place.. "

 

She blushed slightly, and that surprised herself; she had at times spent a night or other at a friend's house, and on occasion even shared beds with someone. But she felt shy, maybe because of Samuel's own reaction.

 

They left the smithy not much later. And at Samuel's, Millie made a point of cooking supper -- after all, she had in her pocket a pack of her spices, and it was nothing more than a small thanks to his kindness, in her own words.

[Mynx]

It was late. Long after both Samuel and Millie had turned in for the night. Try as he might, however, Samuel still couldn't sleep. He lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling as his mind turned over the recent events. They were no closer to catching the wolves, and the thought of having to endure these attacks every full moon was enough to chill his blood.

Samuel sighed and crossed his arms behind his head. He'd heard a rumour once that silver weapons were the most effective to kill werewolves, maybe he should try and make some. But it was only a rumour, and silver was too expensive and hard to come by - was it worth the risk?

Then there was the fact that any weapon to use against the wolves meant you had to be within striking distance of them...but still, it was something to consider.

The creak of an opening door in his house snapped Samuel out of his thoughts as he sat up in bed. In the silence, he could hear the quiet pad of feet move in his house. Had Millie gotten out of bed? Or was it intruders?

Rising quietly from his own, Samuel moved stealthily to his bedroom door and opened it carefully. He looked out into the hallway and, seeing nothing, hesitantly ventured further.

Moving quietly, Samuel entered the kitchen and noticed that the back door was open. Frowning in confusion, he moved to close it, wondering if he'd accidentally left it unlatched before turning in. It didn't seem likely, but it wasn't like werewolves could open doors now, could they?

He was about to close it when he noticed a hunched figure a few feet away from the door. In the dark, it was impossible to make out any features.

"Millie?" Samuel asked quietly, taking a step outside.

The figure raised its head, revealing pointed ears and glowing eyes as it bared its teeth.

Samuel barely had time to react before he was hit in the back by the second wolf.

As he felt the strong jaws close on the back of his neck, severing his spine, Samuel's last thought was of Millie. He prayed that she would remain safe in her room, that she wouldn't investigate the growls before, mercifully, everything went black.

 

OOC: Savage Dragon/Samuel was a Villager. It is now Day Phase. Lynch away.

[cryptomancer]

The day started badly for Enipul Mai, the effects of lingering sobriety and grief taking a duel toll on his mood and mind, black thoughs and accusations floated behind his darkened eyes as he wandered aimlessly through the street. His path avoided entering the tavern, but the steps he took to avoid entering still took him past the front many a time. The knowledge that another had dies weighed heavy on his thoughts, and solitude was all he wanted now.

 

Stirring the crowds was perilous for him, few understood his tone and words when he was willing to speak, and none listened to him when he tried to talk without the influence of the drink, reputation was a hard thing to overcome.

 

Sitting in the cool morning air, across the street form Preston's tavern, he watched, seeing much as he fought to make sence of the previous day's accusations, and wondering if his own was as ill conceived as those that were directed at him. today was going to prove to be the death of one of them, but was accusing one simply to save himself justified?

 

His view of the drugs that Xander smoked offered the same reason to another's eyes to accuse himself, could he acctually have let evil seep into his own mind un-noticed because he was to drunk to see it?

 

Xander still seemed a better option, but his own vice was the doubt, could he be just as much to blame?

 

 

(ooc: Patrick/Xander *points to one track mind and grins*)

 

[GLJordan]

place this either yesterday or later today

 

a disturbing thought crossed his mind as he drank to settle his stomach and dimmed his worried mind. what if the reason Xander seemed so focused now was that he had been eating brains in the night?

 

Patrick – Xander, a settled artist with a drug problem

[Hjolnai]

Ahadrion awoke, and saw the corpse of the Blacksmith. Thinking rapidly, he soon made a decision: there was an obvious connection between the two most recent kills. In both cases, Millie had been nearby. Still, he did not jump to conclusions. This could readily be a case of framing.

 

After much mental deliberation, he pointed sternly at Millie, attempting to communicate his suspicions.

 

OOC: My vote rests with Millie at the moment.

[Venefyxatu]

As he handed the letter to the courier and watched the man ride off again, Ezekiel heaved a sigh of relief that he was still capable of doing that. Part of him really wanted to get on a horse and get out of there, but there was also another part of him that refused to run away. He was a man who saw things through to the end, apparently no matter what the cost. Besides, he wasn't entirely sure whether leaving his chosen place of exile would be much safer than staying here. The king could be very ... creative when it came to punishment.

 

Silently contemplating, he went back into his house, not wanting to hear the endless gossiping and accusations that were bound to follow another slaughter.

 

Samuel was a strong man. If even he, though a commoner, could do nothing, then what chance do any of us have?

 

 

OOC: I am soooo tempted to vote for Millie right now Seriously, though, vote goes to Cryptomancer – Enipul Mai