Dan moves over to the retiree and places a hand on his shoulder. "Bonfire, lots of booze and some fresh nut bread. Hopefully some well cooked meat and plenty of gossip." he smiles to the man.
Tristen stares gloomily around the Tavern before getting to his feet and slouching up to the counter. Putting his hand in to his coat pocket, he pulls out a handful of coins and points towards a dusty bottle of whiskey on a shelf.
"I'll take the bottle Whitey. I am going to go home and drown myself in whiskey, then in Uncles bath!"
'Just my luck... Werewolves and weirdness as soon as I move in to town...'
When the others reach the pre-determined location for the bonfire, they find Thoen already there, gathering wood and clearing the area from any stray brush that might catch and allow the flames to get out of hand.
Those who are less drunk most likely notice the large sword leaning against a nearby tree. Although not lined with silver, the blade still looks thick enough to do considerable damage to any lycanthrope it meets--especially if wielded in hands of a man as large as the blacksmith.
With a last mug of ale, Simon washes down the crusty bread and honey and lingers about waiting for others to migrate to the bonfire.
"Tristen, you're not staying for the bonfire?" Simon's face crumples in confusion, But you'll be alone with danger lurking about, are you not afraid?"
Something about the aloof nature of the barrister concerns Simon and he worries for Alessandra studying alone among the dusty tomes.
Duke, Dan, let us not forget to escort the good librarian to the bonfire, she's likely to get lost in those books and miss the whole thing if we don't remind her.
Simon shifts from foot to foot uncomfortably, tugging his wooly cloak tighter around his body and hoping that Whitey does bring the keg with him to the fire.
"Surely we have safety in numbers," Vorian says, before taking a swig of whiskey. It burned in his throat, but it was preferable to whatever the hell that 'moonshine' was. At least, that's what he told himself.
Joining the others at the bonfire, he glances about, taking note of anybody not present.
Wowbagger joins those at the bonfire. "Who isn't here, we need to be sure to note those that are keeping a low profile. They are the ones I suspect."
Dan nods his head, setting his jowls shaking like soft butter. "Aye, the quiet ones you have to watch out for. But at the same time those that bluster and bluff can be suspicious too."
"Well, now I've confused myself... best check on the librarian." Dan walks off with SImon and the old Duke to knock on her door.
At the knock Professor Devries looks up from her studies, near exhausted. Her french had grown rusty from lack of practice, and now as she struggled through an account of the depredations of the Beast of Gévaudan the idiomatic language was proving difficult to decipher.
She answers the door with book in hand, "Hello Dan. Is there any news?"
Bruce settles himself near the bonfire, its heat and light a comfort as the night begins to fall. Agreed, safety in numbers would seem to be best.
Eldon joins the others at the bonfire. "I think we're just making a bigger target, all gathering in one place like this. Foolishness. But I won't have a bunch of you burning my hut down 'cause I like my privacy. 'sides, I think I can outrun a few of you."
Outside the library
Dan nods his head; "We have the bonfire built and it's started t' catch, soon it'll be ablaze. If yer gabbing about t' were-wolf, unfortunately I don't think anyone has let owt slip."
He puts out an arm if the professor wishes to take it."There are a few non-locals, though we were all like that once. Your research yielded fruit?"
She sighs. "The corpus of knowledge on the subject is... blurry. Many stories mention a stranger coming in from out of town just before the werewolf attacks. In some stories the man is the wolf, and in others he turns others into a werewolf..." She looks around to see who might overhear, then lowers her voice, "Am I the only one who noticed that Sir Keinly's precautions served him well for ten years, but when that 'Wowbagger' came to town suddenly there's a problem and this whole mess starts? What do we know about that fellow anyway?"
Tristen shakes his head softly, before spluttering a little with laughter, too soon changed to a sob.
"Simon I have been afraid from the moment I came here... With a werewolf on the loose? I have changed my undergarments thrice already today. Uncles's house is big and strong. And besides... It has a nice strong support beam I am thinking of hanging myself from!" Thinking for a second, he shrugs.
"I guess I can go to the bonfire first though... Eaten by a werewolf, drowned in a copper tub or swinging from a beam, I'll be just as dead, might as well spend some time in company before I go..."
Seeing the shop owner at the Bonfire, Tristen crosses the area to him. "Ahh Mister Ritter ahm... I was wondering if it would be possible for me to get the money you owe me over that little..." He leans in, whispering quietly. "matter of the ownership of that particular item!"
"I have been down this road before. Past experience has me put little truth in her words. When I am revealed to be innocent or killed, make sure you lynch the professor next."
"If any of you have investigating powers, please check the professor or me out to see if we are a werewolf. Obviously if I lose the vote, you don't have to check me out."
Seeing the shop owner at the Bonfire, Tristen crosses the area to him. "Ahh Mister Ritter ahm... I was wondering if it would be possible for me to get the money you owe me over that little..." He leans in, whispering quietly. "matter of the ownership of that particular item!"
Vorian frowns profusely for a moment, before reluctantly retrieving a pouch of coins from his belt and passing it to Tristen. "Hmph! You might count yourself lucky that you decided to ask for it now of all times... I might have blown it all on booze if ol' McWhite hadn't closed his doors..." The merchant had honestly hoped that the whole werewolf debacle would distract him from the debt. Hell, he couldn't even remember what he owed the money for.
Vorian's frown persists as the conversation at the bonfire takes an awkward turn. Wowbagger's words in particular bother him. "Now, now Wowbagger, let's not get ahead of ourselves. I don't think any of us has to die tonight." A few more drinks, and Vorian might believe that himself. "But now that you mention it, where is that snooty bookworm?"
"I am no stranger, I have personally insulted all of you at least once in the past, I may soon have to insult those of you who are werewolves for a second time."
After her conversation with the baker, Alessandra shows up at the bonfire with a leather satchel full of books and nervously settles in for the evening. When Wowbagger speaks out against her, her eyebrows lift in surprise.
"I have been down this road before. Past experience has me put little truth in her words."
"What on earth are you talking about?! I've dedicated my life to truth and the persuit of wisdom, when have I ever lied to you- or anyone else here? Indeed I believe that my scholarship may have made me a target of the beast. I know that there is one of our number who has made a study of the old ways and I'd appeal to that individual for their protection tonight"
"I am no stranger, I have personally insulted all of you at least once in the past, I may soon have to insult those of you who are werewolves for a second time."
"Oh indeed, I remember my first encounter with you. I was mortified! I couldn't leave my house for a week after the horrible things you said. Well, I'm older and wiser now and if you're thinking about trying again you should know that I've prepared something that I think will put you in your place- though I'm hesitent to unleash it on innocent ears."
Right here ole' timer. Bruce leans forward to acknowledge Leto's question. With all of these accusations being tossed around, I'm just trying to keep track of who all is present too.
At the accusation of Alessandra, Thoen quickly speaks up:
"You are a stranger here Wowbagger, and as such have no right to make accusations against our people without evidence. I have known this lady since I was but a boy, and I have never had reason to suspect her intentions to be anything but the best for those with whom she associates.
Perhaps you yourself have some dark secret to hide, seeing as you so boldly denounce the integrity of one of the better among us?"
Vorian arches a brow, his perpetual grin fading.
"'Better among us?' The last time I checked, we were looking for werewolves, not participating in some petty popularity contest." He takes a swig of his brandy, before casting a sidelong glance towards the pub.
"Besides, surely McWhite would win that competition, considering the booze he fills our bellies with on a daily basis. That moonshine or what have you. And accusing poor Wowbagger here? What of that sod that wrecked my shop 'oer there? He certainly made a show of pointing a finger at her worshipfulness here." Another pointed swig, before wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve.
"Thank you for your business but everyone must now clear out of my Pub! It's time to head over to the bonfire! Bruce, Simon, Edlon and Dan you have yet to square up your tabs! Vorian, you overpaid! Come collect the rest of your coin!" Whitey shouts to all remaining customers as he notices that most of those who haven't paid already left for the fire.
Vorian, you overpaid! Come collect the rest of your coin!"
Perking up at the news that not all of his day's profits were blown, Vorian runs off to retrieve what remains of his shillings.
"An honest gentleman! Thank you!"
"My only secret is I am not a werewolf or normal villager. Remember to Lynch my accusers when my role is revealed. "
Wowbagger asked to be cleared and not protected. Another untruth from the professor.
"I am in business to provide this towns people a service. A damn good one at that. I am not in business to take peoples money. Especially not at an awful time like this. I have a feeling the people will need my knowledge of Brewmastery now more than ever."
Wowbagger asked to be cleared and not protected. Another untruth from the professor.
Simon plunks down the coins for his drinks, always grateful for the offerings of the tavern, then heads to the bonfire with the rest of the crowd.
"Friends, let us not fall prey to paranoia before the wolf ever tears at us. We all are here, who has not joined us this evening, that is who we should consider. Whitey, Alessandra, Wowbagger, Vorian, Thoen, Duke, Bruce, Tristen, Dan, Eldon, we are all here, it is only the wastrel Taraz that is not among us."
Simon looks around at those by the bonfire, letting the words sink in and those there to recognize the truth of the statement.
"And it was his slurred speech that first accused anyone of the cursed werewolf condition, mind you all it was the professor he accused at that, her knowledge truly being a threat to the infected one. Perhaps his drunken act hides the cunning of a wolf!"
"I've seen corpses with more cunning than that little weasel. Barely worth the trouble of digging a hole for him. Better to let him go in a gutter with his delusions than hanging him out of spite."
"Friends, let us not fall prey to paranoia before the wolf ever tears at us. We all are here, who has not joined us this evening, that is who we should consider. Whitey, Alessandra, Wowbagger, Vorian, Thoen, Duke, Bruce, Tristen, Dan, Eldon, we are all here, it is only the wastrel Taraz that is not among us."
An look of mild alarm comes over her face as the Simon lists of the names of those gathered. She looks around in concern and asks, "Has anyone seen Father Landen or his daughter Lorelei? They swore they'd not be letting the wolves drive them out of town, but I don't recall seeing them at all today. I do hope they're well! Perhaps someone should check on them..."
"The first to accuse is the one to choose, have we not always been taught that he who smelt it is the one who dealt it?"
"The first to accuse is the one to choose, have we not always been taught that he who smelt it is the one who dealt it?"
"And with that, I'll go check on 'em." Eldon picks himself up and heads to check and Father Landen and Lorelei.
'Harrumph, should have cast suspicion on Whitey.' Dan reaches into his wallet, letting the moths out, and settles his tab with the Landlord. As he moves over to the bonfire grumbling about expensive ale.
He stands next to Taraz and asks the drunkard, "How do you afford it, you make a killing in the stick market?"
Dan nods his head wisely; "Aye, that's a good idea. Live for today, for what the morrow brings could be very interesting." He moves over to the table and gets a new drink for the retiree.
"Here you go. What do you think of all this arguing and talk of death." his voice low.
"To Luna-cy, may the mad dance with spring-heeled Jack." he returns the salute as he drinks his. He then does a little jig that nearly concludes with him falling over into the fire. However he regains his balance; "It nearly got a rise out of me." say the baker.
As the last of his customers walkout, Whitey locks up the Pub for the night. He walks to the bonfire with keg under arm.
"Ah, the keg, good thinking Whitey, if Taraz is a werewolf the keg was sure to be his first victim this evening."
I hope Eldon returns soon and with the Dr. and Lorelei, it's not safe for anyone to be alone in this village. He did seem eager to leave us though, and after starting a bonfire for the rest of us to gather around...
"Ah, the keg, good thinking Whitey, if Taraz is a werewolf the keg was sure to be his first victim this evening."
That Taraz is always making a scene. He gives all of us Social Drinking Extremists a bad name."
Dan warms his hands against the fire convinced that the night air is ruining their circulation. He leans against the Duke hands rubbing together; "Something the Professor said earlier stuck with me. That Ritter, his manner is hiding something....something sinister?"
He gets up not being one to talk overly behind someones back, he approaches the proprietor and makes his views heard. "It's in my mind that there are certain inproprieties with you business, ya say you've no silver or wolfbane ta sell, but is it just you don't like them. Are you a werewolf?"
Vorian crosses his arms, aghast at the situation. "I resent your accusation! I can assure you, had I been aware that I was walking into a werewolf-infested death trap, I'd have brought plenty. Now that would turn a profit." He glances over at his wagon again. "Besides, aconite doesn't exactly sell well otherwise. I've no reason to have it."
Bruce rubs his hands in front of the bonfire, trying to warm them from a chill that had nothing to do with the fire. As much as I don't want to believe ill of anyone, Taraz has always seemed a bit of a shifty character. Sure we've explained away his behavior as the booze talking but now, with everything happening it's not quite so clear is it?
Light but I hope I'm not speaking ill of an innocent man.
Down the dirt path that leads out of town the good doctor hobbles into the village of Laniel as the sun sets. He approaches those at the bonfire clutching a polished cherry-wood walking cane most of you should recognize him as the eccentric recluse who lives on just outside the village deep in the woods among a hobbled shack. Perhaps he cured someone you know of a strange ailment his part in the drought a few years ago was subject of some controversy as well.
He sits down with onto a log with a plop and cracks his knuckles "Vhie'e hear from der rvunnar boy who supplies 'vost oopf the exotic chemicals from vah next town ovar that the people of Laniel have a volf problem? Sir Sir Keinly is dead?"
"Vwould someone care to offer me a drink vad then fill me in on the particulars? My veet are quiet tired from making the journey here by foot." he asks with a thick accent eying the keg that is a fair distance away from him across the bonfire with his single bright blue eye.