17th JulianTide
A little-known group conducting a small religious ceremony disappear in the forest outside of Stockhagen. Nothing is found except for torn robes and a wooden carving of a figure on the moon.
Moon: Waning Gibbous
18th JulianTide
A man is found dead in his home. Bite marks identified in multiple locations on the body. Door to the room was locked when authorities arrived on the scene, and only the second story window was left open.
Moon: Waning Gibbous
25th JulianTide
Coastal patrol submits dire report on flooding on the western coast, driven by irregular tidal patterns. At least twelve communities already evacuated. Many more will have to be moved within the next month as trend continues.
Moon: Waning Crescent
4th BlackTide
A large pack of wolves passes through northern town. Other small creatures, such as coyotes, foxes, and such appear to be following along with the pack. Locals hide in their homes for nearly two days until all of the animals have cleared out.
Moon: Waxing Crescent
7th BlackTide
A woman begins to exhibit disturbed behavior as sun sets for the evening. Unable to verbally communicate, she begins a series of odd repetitive behaviors before transitioning into full nervous breakdown. A period of calm is followed by a violent attack on her husband and children several hours later. Children are successfully recovered but husband is fatally wounded. Garrison reports a strange glow in the woman's eyes, like the reflection of the moonlight. Glow is still present the next morning.
Moon: First Quarter
10th BlackTide
Sudden rise in tides flood three towns over the course of a single day. Four individuals reported missing in the first few hours of the morning. Northwestern gnome community flees coast as flooding continues into the forest. No contact with related communities has been made.
Moon: First Quarter
13th BlackTide
Multiple animal attacks on the same day. A woman is killed by a bear on the outskirts of a coastal town. A transport carriage is rammed by a seemingly suicidal buck somewhere between Stockhagen and Kemilou. In the south, several field workers are rushed by a group of Wilson’s Jackals, thought to be extinct in the area. Examination reveals backlog of reports regarding animal attacks ramping up over the past month.
Moon: Waxing Gibbous
15th BlackTide
Republic of Copenholm officially declares second state of emergency to add to previous declaration on flooding. Officials state that there is sufficient evidence of lycanthrope activity to warrant a full-scale response. Silver weapons are to be distributed to the garrisons along the western coast.
Moon: Waxing Gibbous
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16th BlackTide
Eight people in Stockhagen all experience the same dream on the same night. In their shared vision, all see a bright, full moon shining down on them. The moon has a face, but its exact features are unclear. It reportedly grins down on them as they are struck with an overwhelming sense of doom. Five of the individuals report sleepwalking far from their beds. One wakes up in the middle of the forest, his clothes torn and muddied.
Moon: Waxing Gibbous
And here we are now. As adventurers with experience like yours, I imagine you’ve dealt with lycanthropy before, but it’s starting to look like there’s something bigger going on as well. Hard to say what exactly, but that’s what we’re here to find out. Hopefully I’ll have more information by the time you’ve arrived. In the meantime, play it safe. Get to the tavern before sun is down, try not to get caught up in anything on the way. We’ll go from there.
Regards,
Gabriel
The letter is examined by three sets of eyes as the man in the middle reads aloud. There is nothing remarkable about his appearance: short hair, clean shave, plain robes. The only thing unusual for these parts is that he’s unarmed. His companions at either side listen closely as he finishes the final passage and places the message down in his lap.
“Lycanthropy,” Emmitt says. “Anyone know what that’s about?” I’ve heard it before, but I can’t place it.”
“Isn’t that vampires or something?” The woman to his left is a little more striking in appearance. A large shield is strapped to her arm, a perfectly circular form shaped out of thin brass. It pairs with the weapon strapped to her waist, a blade divided into two, thin prongs. Leylin grabs the letter from Emmitt’s lap and squints to take a closer look. “Should we have brought garlic? Did Gabriel ask us to bring some?”
“I think it’s a little more likely she wanted us to bring silver weapons, like in the letter,” Emmitt says. “But if we find any garlic, then sure, we’ll pick some up.
“Werewolves. It’s werewolves.” The man to his right has a tired face with a short, rough beard. A sword hangs from each side of his belt, joining the rows of various knives strapped to the rest of his body. “That’s what lycanthropy means. Were-creatures and stuff. I don’t think garlic is going to be much help.”
“You sure it’s not vampires?” Leylin asks, tapping on the edge of her shield. “They can control animals and stuff, and it would explain the woman going crazy.”
“Alright sure, but it’s not.” Marco holds his blades steady as their seats bump around the back of the carriage. “Lycanthropy is werewolves. That’s what the word means.”
“How do you know what the word means?”
“I don’t know, I read it? In a book? Like with words?”
Emmitt shrinks back in the middle of the carriage as they continue to argue. The terrain has become rockier, and the trees that speed past the windows are growing fewer and farther between. In the distance, the deep blue of the ocean can be seen at the very edge of the horizon.
“The moon, the moon!” Marco exclaims, nearly hitting Emmitt’s face as he gesticulates with his hands. “It’s a werewolf thing. You don’t turn into a vampire on the full moon. You don’t catch a taste of the moonlight and decide you need to count things real bad.”
“Ugh, fine.” Leylin lies her head against the back of the seat, defeated. “I was just messing with you anyways.”
The carriage rumbles to a sudden halt, sending both of them lurching forward. Marco catches himself as Leylin stumbles onto her side. Emmitt is completely unmoved, by some means exempt from the laws of physics. He can’t help but grin as he bickering companions pull themselves back up and climb out of the vehicle.
A cool breeze as they step into open air. The carriage has stopped in an uneven, hilly landscape. To the right is the remains of the forest, growing denser with greater distance. To the left, the coastline, just visible half a mile away. Though only a few rays of sun breach the sheet of hazy grey above, the water remains a deep, vibrant blue, accented by the white lines of cresting waves. In front, the path is completely flooded, over fifty feet of water blocking the trail ahead.
At the front of the carriage is a muskox, a hulking, furry creature with hair as white as snow. A pair of black eyes, just visible through the fur, glances over as its rider dismounts. This man is of a similar stature, a hefty man with a wild bushy beard. He surveys the area with a statuesque posture, examining the flow of water inland. A variety of debris floats by, including chunks of wood and what looks like the wheel of a carriage.
“Looks like we’re cut off,” the man says. “I can’t tell you how deep the water goes exactly, but it would be hard to pull the carriage through.”
“So we’ll have to drive around then?” Emmitt asks.
The man looks out on the flowing water, which stretches for several hundred yards before seeping into the orange and brown of the late autumn leaves. He nods reluctantly. “Looks like it. I’ll have to go check out how far the water is going, but it’ll add a bit of time at least.” He starts off towards the flooded trail, revealing a hatchet strapped to his leg as he turns.
Marco leans in towards Leylin. “What was his name again?”
She shrugs. “You think I was paying attention?”
“Gotavv. His name is Gotavv.” Emmitt slaps a hand over each of their shoulders and gives them both a sardonic smile. “Always great to be working with professionals.”
Marco pulls himself away with an unexpected forcefulness, his entire body tensing up. Emmitt retracts his hand as Marco glares at him, then looks away.
“Did Gabriel say how much we were going to be paid for this mission?” Marco asks.
“I uh, don’t remember.”
Before he can say more Marco is walking off towards the water, leaves crunching under his boots. Emmitt watches his defensive posture with a concerned expression, then reluctantly follows after. The cool air cut deeper with its next breath, causing a shiver.
Emmitt stops.
Slowly, his gaze is redirected towards the forest. Several figures are approaching through the trees, quietly creeping forward like spiders along a wall. Unlike Emmitt, all of them are armed.
