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Naven nodded. "I'm sure he'd speak with you," he said. "He and the seer, Sylle Ru, been working on a plan to get rid of it. Come back at dawn and I'll tell Ansich .... he and Will should be taking watch later... I'll tell him to look for you when the gates open. Hey, what's your name, so I can tell him?"

Good heavens, I'll have to wait until dawn! Better answer the guard though; I've put him into enough trouble stressing the fact I want to get in town soon, and he can't do anything about it.
"I am John, of the Silvershield family. We had trade agreements with the Jarl some years ago, trading our silk against healing herbs if I recall right, so you might have heard the name. What is yours?"

"Thank 'ee, sir," Rae eagerly takes the offered drink and chugs down a few mouthfuls while the bard slides into the seat next to her.

"I dunnae. Is 'at where't starts? The hound's been 'ere for that long? An' are ya sure that ain't the real spear, now?... Come on 'en, tell us yer tale! I s'pose there's somethin' ta glean from it." She tries to sound gruff and unpleasant, but the little wink and tiniest smirk both indicate that she's actually interested in what he has to say - at least as long as he isn't too long-winded.

"Naven," the guard replied. "Silvershield, huh? Yeah, that rings a bell." He wasn't quite sure why that trade had fallen by the wayside. Probably the Jarl being too hardheaded about something.

"I'll be sure to pass it along. There's a couple other folks here, just arrived earlier today, that offered to help." he added, even though the Jarl didn't seem overly keen on accepting it. "There's those that say the hound won't stop til everyone here is gone. Sure would be nice to prove that wrong."

---

"Seems so..." Lloré says. "Though why it's suddenly come back after so long absent, I cannot say..."

I could take a guess, thought Josh, just catching a bit of the conversation between the bard and dwarf as Xepil lectured him. But he says nothing, instead snapping his attention back to the hobgoblin.

"Well, you're holdin' 'em! I ain't gonna snatch 'em outta your hand so I can have a turn," the boy complained, feeling as if the lecture were unfair.

"... Ulfheonar was the last of the kings that worshipped a chaos spirit. Or at least the last important one as there seem to be no tales of any that came after him. He was known as the wolf-slayer and was supposed to have a magic spear and a magic shield that could turn the beast's attacks," the bard continued. "Morgan and I found his tomb once... at least I'm pretty sure it was his, up to the north of here."

"GRAAA!" the hobgoblin's cry interrupted the story and Galiena leapt to her feet as if they were again under assault by the beast, only to find the fearsome warrior cringing and cowering away ... from a fairy.

"Are you hurt, Xepil?" she asks quickly, hurrying to his side and looking for a wound though could see none.

"Naven - I'll keep that in mind. Indeed that would be nice. What kind of people arrived? The average adventurers with cheap equipment or some more experienced looking party?"

"My freaking eyes! Graaa!" Xepil said, still on the ground and shielding his eyes with his arm. "What was that thing?? Grraa! It was so pretty it freaking blinded me!! Grrr!" Though Xepil was very far removed from his Hobgoblin kin, his upbringing was just about the same as any other Hob and he was therefore very much not used to seeing fey of any kind. Having seen one for the first time seemed like it legitimately blinded the Hobgoblin momentarily, and he rubbed at his eyes, blinking, and slowly regaining his vision.

In the darkness of the falling night, a small creature sped across the tall grass of the Hirotian plains, hidden from prying eyes through nature's silhouettes and evening's shadow. Its path stopped short of entering the town as it realized the gate was closed. Slowly walking amid the undergrowth, Guile eavesdropped on the conversation between a Johnny-Come-Lately and one of the town guards, hoping to find out exactly why its way was blocked.

The guard hadn't been able to even begin an answer that movement caught John's eye... Although he couldn't clearly make out the foe, it was smaller than the grass or crawling. "Don't panic, but did the creature already change shape? It seems we are not alone..." John said, slowly reaching for his dagger as he began casting an Orb of Light for blinding the foe or at least finding its appearance out.

((the goal of this spell is not to throw it directly but get it prepared in case of a fight))

Rae leans in to Lloré's words as he begins to spin a tale - perhaps a tall tale, but certainly worth listening to. "Turn its attacks? So, it couldnae even kill the beast, aye? An' how do ye know that spear ain't the real thing?"

She had hardly finished asking her questions when Xepil let out an ungodly howl. Rae spins about, ready to fight if needed. It takes her a few seconds to realize what the fuss is about and then a few seconds more to recover from her own shock at seeing a Fae flitting about. Once she's recovered, she bursts into a heart belly laugh and almost falls off her seat.

Something tipped them off considered Guile as he saw the road-weary one of the two prepare himself in his general direction. A clever idea entered the Animal Thief's brain however, to see if he could still make it out of this under cover.
Hidden from view by his bush, he reached up slightly and shook the branches, as if to stimulate movement. Opening his mouth, he began to chitter and chatter with his natural noises. With any luck, this ruse would be convincing racoon enough to disarm the situation and disinterest these humans.

Six months escaping the Templars and his scholarship at the Circle had taught John an important lesson : pay attention to every detail. Anything could help to sneak around unseen, and a Demon like Hirot was fighting would surely be able to change shape. However, the raccoon noises coming from the tall grass made him sigh of relief - what kind of fierce enemy would change into such a small and powerless creature? Nevertheless, the lack of movement from the noises didn't make him feel safe, so he sheathed his dagger back but kept the Orb waiting in his hand, ready to be unleashed.

At first, Nysphina is livid to be addressed as little more than "that thing," her tiny fists curling taut as her wings flutter more rapidly than previous. She is more than ready to submit the Hobgoblin to the sort of verbal lashing only a fey heiress might give. But then, telling of her vanity, she smiles in hearing the supposed reason for his blindness. Any hostility ebbs from her as her fingers unfurl. "I am fey! My name is Nysphina, an envoy of the Petalgleam tasked with undoing this 'beast' all speak of - or the attempt, at least."

She turns to the dwarven woman, huffing a quiet sigh. "Oh, good. You're laughing. I didn't want to find myself crushed under one of your fists."

The trickery had worked! At least this is what Guile could perceive from the slight snick of a weapon being slid into its scabbard. Sliding around the bush, he sped out from under the growth, attempting to make the last few feet to the wall at a dash, before attempting to clamber up and free-climb the walls. While incredible sounding, it was an act he had done on many occasions and came second nature to a being of his particular state.

"Just a ring tail," Naven says dismissively. "I'll let Byram know, maybe he can set a trap for it 'fore it makes off with any of the hens."

But then gets back to John's question, admiration in his voice for the group he'd had the honor of fighting alongside just a short while before. "A stout group of warriors. They stood fast against the beast this very night and defeated it before it could claim a life. Though little doubt it'll come back tomorrow night."

He sighed. It was difficult to keep holding out hope that a way to defeat the beast for good would be found.

---

Even Lloré cracked a smile as the hobgoblin seemed to recover from his shock.

"A pretty little fairy is quite a site... to give a warrior quite a fright!" he half-sings to the dwarf, but keeps his voice lowered, not wishing to antagonize the fearsome hobgoblin warrior.

"That one up there is just made of wood," he explained then, pointing up at the replica of Ulfheonar's spear. "I'd bet the real one's buried with him. But that place is haunted."

The movement from the bush where the raccoon noises had come and Naven's answer made John feel secure; he dismissed the Orb and, as Naven told him of the group's might, he looked to the stars to know how much time was left before dawn. Since the moon was already up and he had an important task ahead, he decided to let the guard on his watch and go sleeping: "Well, that would mean we're safe enough to sleep for now. I'm getting most tired, so if that doesn't bother you, I'll set my camp near the gates until dawn."

Fortunately for the Bard it didn't look like Xepil had caught that little pun at his expense. It was unlikely that Xepil would let his baser Hobgoblin instincts get a hold of him and try to kill and eat the guy, but he might have still tried to punch him.

Either way, the Hobgoblin stood up, rubbing at his eyes that were still watering a bit. He focused a bit more on the fairy as his eyes got accustomed to her... prettiness. It still was painful to stare at her, like looking directly at strong light. Fey seemed to be anathema for him.

As she made her intentions clear however, Xepil scoffed. "Grrr, this beast must be quite something if even the Fey want a piece of it."

Then came a shrug, clearly not caring one bit for Nysphina's haughtiness. "Fine, whatever, grrrr... I'm already working with a dwarf, might as well jump off the deep end and work for the Fey too."

"I called dibs on it though, grr!" Xepil said suddenly, wiggling an accusing finger to the fairy. "So I'm calling the shots in this hunt. That means no funny business, ya got it ya little fruit-fly! Grrr!" The Hobgoblin also seems to be under the impression that he's the leader of this little expedition.

Rae winks at the Fey's relief. "Aye, that's the best laugh I had in awhile! Thank'ee for that, li'l miss."

Her eyes narrow a bit in Xepil's direction. She drains her cup and brings it down on the table while standing up. "Dibs, eh? An' callin' the shots? I think ya got another thing comin' there, hobby boy! Dona go gettin' yahr britches too big yahrself. Now, we got some things ta sleep on? Meet here at daybreak? Ya think ya could join us here in the mornin' then?" Her last question was directed to Lloré. "Like ta get yahr thoughts on a few more things."

After his answer, she'll head up to bed.

The bard's eyes widened slightly at Rae's request. He was surprised, but also delighted to asked to join them. "If there's any way I can assist, I would be glad of it," he promised and his eyes drifted briefly to the lovely Morgan Haverson, already back to working the bar with her father. "I owe you a great deal."

As the night grows late some villagers sprawl out on pallets in the common room. Others make their way upstairs to rooms. None seem ready to brave the night despite the fact the Hound was vanquished for the night.

---

"Sin! Hirot's sin has brought judgement. Repent of your wicked ways and return to the arms of Justicia!" the booming voice of a man with a thin face and a hawkish nose heralded the dawn. Feather Beacom stood in the town square adjacent to the Wolf Spear Inn, shouting to anyone who would listen (and anyone who wouldn't) about how the world was ending and the hound was retribution for the village's sins. Two acolytes accompanied him. Both are silent and are whipping themselves in penance for their sins.

Galiena, who'd risen early for her own morning prayers, looked out toward the priest, frowning slightly. Her own deity was aligned with Justicia, but she could not bring herself to adopt the priest's outlook on the beast. Surely there must be a way to defeat it for more than a single night!

And not far away, the gates of Hirot are unbarred and pushed open. "I've sent word to the Jarl that you'd like an audience, though haven't gotten a response yet," Naven said to John, before heading off to find his own bed for the next few hours, then paused and pointed down the main road. "If you're looking for a hot breakfast, the Wolf Spear's usually open already."

Indignantly did Xepil turned to look at Rae when she questioned the veracity of his leadership position. "Excuse me!?? Grrr!" He pointed at her with his atlatl. "Last time I checked, I'm the one coming up with plans to hunt this beast down, while you just wanna get drunk and flirt with the freaking bard! Grrr!!" And speaking of flirting, Xepil all but nearly pulled out his own hair when Rae invited Lloré to join them. "Seriously!!? Ya wanna bring the musician too!!? GRAAA!!" He screamed into his hands. "I give up, I'm going to bed, grrrr, screw you guys."

---

The Next Day.

Xepil was awoken by the cries of zealots whipping themselves in the village square. "SHUT UP!!!!!" The Hobgoblin opened the window to his room and screamed down at them, having half a mind to shoot them with his atlatl, give them a real reason to scream. "Stupid crazy ass humans, grrrr.. I swear.." He mumbled angrily and put his armor back on, brushed his razor sharp fangs, and got some light breakfast plus coffee from his own supplies, he didn't much trust the quality of these human food.

Once prepared he stepped back down, stretching a little and twirling his axe around ready to go. "Okay kiddos, who's ready to hunt an oversized wolf? Grrrhehhe.." The Hobgoblin licked the blade of his axe trying to look intimidating, but of course, being freezing cold that meant his tongue ended up getting stuck on the metal. "Uh oh..gaaa af sffuuk!!"

John woke up after a rather peaceful night. Seeing the gates have been opened, he packs his belongings and prepared to enter Hirot. As he leaves, Naven indicates him the local tavern.
"Alright! Have a nice day, Naven, and thanks for all!"
Upping entering the town, the first thing he remarks is the massive house in front of him - probably the townhall. The sun is still barely to be seen, and few people are on the streets. And there it is! A large inn, with a wolf as emblem - the promise of a good breakfast to John's eyes. As he is about to enter, someone begins shouting from the town square about the end of the world and how Hirot should repent, making John wonder whether the village was truly desperate or home to the stupidest fanatics. Anyways, he had no time to answer as they were answered by an even louder shout telling them to shut up, quickly followed by a window being slammed closed.
"Well, better get going." John said to himself, as he entered the tavern unbothered. Not many people were up: only a few playing dice in a corner, and the others drinking and eating.
"Good day. A rare steak and a bottle of wine please." John told the innkeeper after having found an empty, almost clean table.