I must admit, I am unimpressed with Bailiff Oswald. I can see why Sir Thames, in Adreham’s Ledger may he rest, was the more senior of the King’s investigatory retinue. Our small coterie arrived to Leene by dawn’s first light following a rather uneventful journey. We were surprised to note a gaggle of villagers standing round a corpse. I had a mind to have a word with Oswald for his lack of industry in seeing to Sir Thames burial with greater haste considering the man had died a fortnight ago but we were told the body was not that of the knight at all but was instead the blacksmith, George. Concerned that Leene would soon run out of villagers, we inquired just how many such murders had taken place. The bailiff mentioned one other along with a host of farm animals.
From his description of Sir Thames and the condition of the other corpses, it appeared that poor George had died by similar means. Rather than be felled by that sinister apparatus, sharpened meat, it appeared George had succumbed to injuries from a talon or claw. Searching the grounds about the Leene Inn, we found a gory, bloody scene about some deep gouges in the ground, as might have been made by some feral beast.
Oswald implored us to travel to the blacksmith’s home several hours outside town to inform the man’s young daughter. The blacksmith was good and cold by the time we arrived so why Oswald did not move with greater alacrity to make such a notification himself, I know not. As I say, I am not much impressed by the man. Nevertheless, with some minor delays (the orcish cleric seems somewhat lacking in her facility with husbandry), we rode out to the blacksmith’s home and forge. We found the forge itself cold, the fire out completely and utterly. The home, being completely empty with no sign of George’s daughter, was nearly as cold as the forge.
In the kitchen, it appeared the floor boards had been pried up and a small lockbox drawn out. Said lockbox lay on the table unopened, though not from lack of trying. The lockbox was marked with claw-like gouges though the lock still held fast. Formidable against a feral hand, the lockbox could not abide my colleague’s lockpicks, and soon its contents were revealed. Within lay a note from father to daughter. Something about a silvered arrowhead crafted into an amulet. Against what, the note did not elaborate. The arrowhead itself appeared of elvish make and, upon further examination, like was indeed magical and carried enchantments targeting shapeshifters. For it to work, though, it would need to be shafted. How the blacksmith acquired the talisman, or found it bereft of its wooden component, he did not say. In the blacksmith’s study lay commissioned plans for an apparatus of metal bars and clasps, though we were not able to gain insight on who had commissioned the work. We did not find the blacksmith’s daughter but the state of the forge would seem to indicate she had been absent from the cottage several days at least.
Seeing no sign of George’s daughter, we searched the grounds. In the woods nearby, we found a set of tracks, small and booted. Following the tracks, the trail became difficult to follow as the trail gave way to what appeared to be a wolf’s tracks. The boot prints did not persist beyond their intersection with the wolf’s tracks and, as there did not appear to be blood or gore in the vicinity, we surmised that, despite how outlandish it may seem, whoever made them may have in fact become the wolf. Drawing this conclusion, we thought better of leaving the blacksmith’s amulet behind and instead lashed it to a supple tree branch, fashioning a crude arrow.
Returning to Leene, we implored Oswald to provide additional detail on Sir Thames’ murder. The bailiff took us to the knight’s cottage. Apparently, according to his wishes, he was buried in his garden. The townspeople noted that he was apparently killed some creature with large claws. I thought that an odd custom but who am I to question the aristocracy. Looking through the man’s effects, we found a letter detailing parameters for an apparatus similar to that identified among the blacksmith’s papers in his study. It appeared that Sir Thames himself had written a missive atop a stack of parchment. Like any decent cartographer, I was able to make a rubbing of this missive. It seemed to corroborate our concerns of a shapeshifter looming about and made reference to a curse and discussed the movement of a silver longsword to a drop point marked by an oak tree to be left after the full moon, which we calculated to take place in the next few days.
Crucially, whatever foul creature besets the village of Leene, it apparently does not seem to conform to parameters normally confining lycanthropes. It seems as though this evil is able to control its transformations, and may even be able to obscure its condition during a full moon. Oswald has wasted valuable time in his lack of deliberacy. We must redouble our efforts if we seek to prevent further tragedy from befalling the village.
