Log 01: The Plague

Shiira's Adventure

Shiira didn’t go to the bar often—at least, not when she wasn’t helping as a barmaid or on an errand of sort. Sure, she knew the Lars’s fairly well—they were neighbors after all—but the boisterous atmosphere and the unwanted attention were always enough to deter the lass from the noisy social outlet. However, today, like many days, Madam Lana decided to push her introverted daughter out of the house and force her to spend time with the strapping young lads. In the bar.
Tonight was unlike other nights, though. Shiira and Lana arrived and made their place on the table with the Dwarf—Dwalin the Blacksmith. Shiira figured her mother must’ve been getting desperate if she was trying to set her up with a who-knows-how-old dwarf. Not that there was any problem with dwarves. Or any race for that matter.
This night seemed to be just like the other Bar nights until Gia came in even more on edge and skittish than usual. Shiira couldn’t quite make out what she said—she was actively trying to block out everything being said—but before she knew it, the constable was calling for volunteers to find out what was happening at the Braddon’s homestead. Loudmouth Lana: volunteering her own daughter on a potentially hazardous journey just so she could get Shiira to share the company of some men.
Well, the walk wasn’t all that bad. The night never scared the girl, but Mad Milligan surely provided enough annoyance for five nights. Not that Shiira voiced any of this. Technically, she didn’t have to since the rest of the team did plenty of that. What awaited the few at the Braddon’s house was not a pleasant sight. The Braddons were home, fortunately…but unfortunately…they were dead. Torn apart. Brutally murdered by what could only be…wolves.
Dwalin and the girl actually never saw this scene, however. Those two became preoccupied by the sounds emanating from the well. As it turns out, the Braddon girl had taken refuge there, as her father instructed her to while he led the wolf away. On the way to take Miss Braddon to the town doctor, they saw it. A wolf, dragging the body of Farmer Braddon, met the party along the way. Fortunately, they were able to fell it without too much trouble, but with this testimony, it was now painfully obvious that the small village of Launsmill was plagued…with werewolves.
Efforts were made to collect all of the silver and use it to plate all the weapons of each member of the search party. As a result, they were again recruited to go hunt the wolves. Even though it was a necessary evil, there was still a nagging concern that it was the fellow townsmen—the neighbors and the friends and the kin. It was a hunt to kill their own—a hunt that would leave them with a heavy conscious despite the nature of this dog-eat-dog world.


Komori Komori

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