Jeanne stared in her mug of mead. Hearing the soft fizzling of bubbles and the scent of honey touching her nose. Her eye stung as she tried to focus them. The light beginning to give her a headache. She pinched the bridge of her nose and let out a moan as she opened her eyes.

Silvius, Hypatia and Gabriel were eating and discussing matter at a table, Cid was going over a map with Kveldulf and Benkin and Maeryn were near a dart board, testing each other’s skills. She rested her head on her left hand, feeling the weight of the last few days begin to creep up on her. Lingering thoughts to unanswered question that she wished not to ponder.

“Penny for your thoughts,” she heard Leonidas say to her.

She shook her head. “Honestly, I’m still trying to work that part out.”

“That’s fair. It’s been hard to accept what’s been going on. Let alone begin coming to terms with them.”

“Was it ever this bad?”

“What? Back in the Outlands?”

Jeanne nodded.

“Sometimes. Especially when there was a war on, or if people were arguing amongst themselves while there was a murderer loose.”

“You’d think I’d be used to this at this point.”

“I mean, this isn’t exactly the type of thing you see regularly, even in this line of work.”

“Still, this has been a lot harder to handle than I was expecting.”

“It isn’t helping the damned curs we’re hunting are elusive as ever. Not like they’re just standing outside calling you out for a fight.”

“I wish they would,” Jeanne said, taking a sip of her mead. “Certainly would help with the damned waiting.”

“That’s the truth,” Leonidas replied, taking a sip from his own tankard.

“Did you ever have to deal with vampires like this?”

“Not really. Surprisingly, most of the vampires I knew were fairly unassuming. I mean, you had a few wild cards here and there. But overall, even they tried not to bring too much attention to themselves. Last thing anyone wanted was half the region hunting you down to put your head on a silver platter.”

“And murders weren’t common place?”

Leonidas shook his head again. “Against fellow settlers, not really. Now against the indigenous peoples, that was a different story.”

“Should I ask?”

“Mostly the same song and dance as anywhere else. New people arrive, slaughter the ones already living there in the name of some trumped up excuse and they act like the land was theirs the entire time. No different than anywhere else.”

“Did you ever partake in that?”

“No,” Leonidas said sternly. “The only time I drew arms against those people it was when one of them tried taking my head and talking wasn’t allowed. And even then I took no pride in the circumstances.”

Jeanne stretched her neck. “I just wish this damned thing was done with and behind us.”

“I know, the same for the rest of us.”

“What do you think would drive them out?”

“The Kolvilles? If I was a betting man, I’d say something that they’d find some sort of ownership of that they’d want back. Or let them know where you are,” he said.

“I’m starting to wonder if that last part isn’t a terrible idea.”

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“If we do that, then we’d lose the element of surprise.”

“You think we have that now?”

Leonidas shrugged. “There’s always that chance. They’re not gods, and I wouldn’t be surprised if rumors were out that we didn’t make it out of Bellem’s city.”

“But the Kolvilles would still have some connections.”

“Maybe a couple, but these two seem to have been off the grapevine for some time. And I’d bet good coin they haven’t been assessed on things for some time. That could include you being back.”

“I guess I don’t want to give myself any false hope,” Jeanne said, taking another sip of her mead.

Before they could continue, Kveldulf and Cid came to their table, followed by Helen, now with an apron tied around her waist and a tray of steaming pieces of bread and a stick of butter resting nearby. “Figured you two could use some food,” Kveldulf said as he and Cid took their seats.

“I could use something,” Jeanne said, grabbing a large chunk of bread before handing it to Leonidas.

“Looks like our poor friend wasn’t the only victim the brothers found recently,” Cid said, swirling his mead in his tankard.

“What do you mean?” Leonidas asked.

“There was a body brought in a day before,” Helen said, “we think his name was Lanston, Langdon, something like that.”

“Was he around here for any reason?” Leonidas asked.

Helen shook her head. “Couldn’t tell ya. He wasn’t here long, and I think he was just looking for some work before he went on his way, off to Garmbuhr, for some odd jobs. A lot of people been doing that what with the war and all.”

“Was this Lanston found like Prydwen?” the doctor asked.

“Aye, just the same. Though they were something odd about him.”

“What do you mean?” Cid asked.

“His mouth was quivering every once in a while, and his eyes kept shifting. Never looking in the same spot for more than a moment,” Helen said, tucking her chin into her chest and shuddering at the thought.

Jeanne noted Gabriel looking towards them. Her face contorted in discomfort before she turned back to the others and took a sip from her brew.

“We think Langston was robbed before he was murdered by the devils,” Helen said.

“Was anything particular taken?” Kveldulf asked.

“All the coin he had on him, and a pair of fine boots that he was particularly keen on.

“Boots?” Jeanne asked, puzzled.

“Aye, he had this nice pair of fine leather boots. Almost shined enough to where you thought it produced its own light.”

“Rare thing indeed,” Cid said, tapping his cheek with a finger.

“When they found Langston, his body was resting on the banks of the creek nearby, with stones placed in his torso.”

The four exchanged quick glances before looking back to Helen. “Is there anything else you can think of regarding Langston?” Cid asked.

“Actually yes, the last night I saw him, he was talking to two men, they were young, maybe in their twenties, or so. One did more of the talking, a bit of a charmer he thought he was, but I wasn’t that impressed. The other sulked around and had a look in his eye that gave me chills.”

“Was there anyone else with them?” Kveldulf asked.

“Aye, aye. Three young women, two of them with children, the other was seeing to the ill one’s needs. All three of them rarely spoke and looked like they had seen or two.”

“How were the two men to them?” Jeanne asked.

“They were … all right. Nothing I’d consider romantic, but there wasn’t any incidents between them.”

“Anything else you can think of about the group?” Cid asked again.

Helen shook her head. “Sadly, no. He wasn’t here long and we didn’t learn of what happened to him until a few days before you all arrived.”

“Well, thank you for that information,” Cid said, bowing his head forward, “this is most helpful.”

“I don’t know how much help it can be, but I hope you get the bastards all the same,” Helen said to them, “but, if you’ll excuse me, I should be tending to my other patrons.”

“So, that means they’ve definitely been here,” Cid said.

“You think they’re far away?” Kveldulf asked.

“I don’t think so,” Cid replied.

“We’re definitely catching up with them,” Jeanne said.

“Agreed,” said Cid, “and that means we need to be especially careful. Can’t assume they’re unaware to our presence.”

“Be nice if we had something Maer or Gabe could use to track them.”

“We could do some patrols, see if we can a camp out in the woods,” said Kveldulf.

“We’ll start that in the morning,” said Cid. “We’ll figure out who’s going where tomorrow morning, but I think we should enjoy what we can to …”

A gut wrenching scream shocked all of them alert, and they all grabbed their weapons and raced towards the door. Reaching the street outside, The Wolves found several people running away in full terror away from a person hunched over the body of a dead elf man, their body shaking as their murderer dug into their raw flesh and devoured it without a care.

“Well, this night just got interesting,” Kveldulf said as he trained extended halberd towards the killer.

The killer’s head lifted up at the comment, turning slowly to the others. Jeanne felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up on end as she spotted the man’s face staring back at them. The black spots where his eyes should be were void of any semblance of humanity. His skin was pale as the moon, and his teeth were jagged and stained with hues of amber and crimson. His nose was thin and shortened, and wrinkled sharply as he sniffed the air.

Jeanne spotted a small brooch clasping the worn and haggard cloak over the fiend’s shoulder, a sigil hounding her thoughts in the last weeks and months. A house plagued with demons, in dark words and darker deeds. Now its soul manifested in flash and blood before all the world to see.

“Kolville,” she said.

The Kolville tilted his head as he recognized her, “You,” he said slowly and with growing anger.