Something is a little different about the village today. For one thing, on the way into town, the black feline and his foppish fox companion passed a number of little shrines. The fox insisted there was nothing of interest in any of them, but he kept making smacking and munching noises when Jynx's back was turned. It was a mostly uneventful trip, really. Until, that is, the bunnies appeared…

The ebony feline mostly dismisses the little shrines, deciding that they must be of some local superstitious value or something. He clutches close to him a sack, in which can be found a few wooden stakes and vials of the strange water he found while searching the lab for the shard. Hopefully someone in town can explain what they are for. "Are you eating something?" he calls back to the fox.

"Nomph!" calls out the fox, and he can be heard scampering to catch up with the feline. Just then, he starts making a choking noise, then spits out a mouthful of crumbs. "Ayayayaya – in the BUSHES!" He points with a shaky hand … and, sure, enough, something is making the boughs of the bushes nearby shake just a bit, just an arrow's flight out of the village.

Jynx flattens his ears. "Great, one of those creepy crawly fluffy things! Quick, go for broke!" He dashes off towards the village, ignoring the mid-day sun's rays that warm his black fur.

A cute little fluffy bunny hops out of the bushes and wiggles its cute little nose … and flashes its cute little blood red eyes and its long, sharp fangs. Hmm. Not so cute anymore. And neither are the two other bunnies that leapt out with it.

The foppish fox shrieks, and dashes full-speed toward the village. "KILLER FAUNAAAAAAAAA!"

The black Khatta runs at full speed as well, reaching down to get his dagger just in case.

The vorpal bunnies bounce and hop after the feline and the vulpine, joined by several others. The villagers, warned of impending doom, quickly rush inside their cottages, slamming shutters and doors … keeping themselves quite safe from the menace, but greatly reducing the choices available to Jynx and the fox for some sort of refuge from the little terrors.

Jynx flattens his ears once more. "My, how hospitable… " The cat looks left and right for some sort of refuge, pulling out his Savanite dagger, and Kuravel – the dagger he found in the castle. "Look for somewhere to get inside!"

The foppish fox runs from door to door, pouncing fiercely. "Lemmein!Lemmein! PUH-Leeeeze!" He tries another. "Oh, pleasepleasepleasepleasePLEASE help MEEEE!" Another. "Oh, please let me in! I don't wanna DI-E-e-e-eee!" He weeps openly.

Jynx makes a bee-line for the town's tavern, hoping that its usually open doors are still as such.

There are several odd decorations on the houses. Wooden skeletons or skulls, garishly painted, and various other figures that seem simultaneously festive and morbid. Hmm. Kind of reminds one of Midsummer's Day up in Rephidim. About that time of year, actually.

Fortunately for the Khatta, the inn's doors are indeed open … since the proprietress seems to have holed herself up somewhere deeper within the establishment for the time being. There is a crackling, warm fire, and a few abandoned mugs about. The fox dashes in. "Must hide! Must hide! Must – Oooo! Someone doesn't want this ale!"

The Khatta sprints in, slamming the door behind him, and attempts to bolt it. "Go see if there's somewhere better to hide, quick!"

The foppish fox nods, swiping up a mug of ale on his way to check out the cellar. He casually takes a swig from the mug on his way to the steps … then promptly falls over, a stupid grin frozen on his face, as his ears perk straight up, and his tail snaps out. His stupid grin disappears, of course, hidden by his floppy hat, once he impacts the floor with a resounding thud.

Pounding can be heard at the door, as the little fuzzy bunnies throw themselves against it, hungry for blood. A silhouette of one can be seen as it determinedly hops outside a window … It can't quite reach … not yet, anyway.

A panicked baying can be heard outside. It sounds like a Dromodon calf that must have strayed from some farmer's pen before the beasts could all be rounded up.

Jynx freezes in amazement, but only for a second. "Daghed vulpines, can never hold their liquor!" He runs over to the fox, and begins to drag him towards the cellar, where he can hopefully lock the door and wait out the chaos.

The cellar doors, as fortune would have it, are unlocked. Perhaps the innkeeper recently accessed some of the stores before this little emergency. It should be a fairly simple affair to roll the fox in there, jump in, and bolt the doors behind.

Which is exactly what Jynx tries. He hastily drags the fox down the stairs, drops him on the floor, then slams the heavy doors behind him, attempting to bolt them shut.

The magic dagger, of course, flashes blue every once in a while. If only it would maintain a steady glow, it'd make for a nice light source. As it is, it seems that in addition to serving as a warning, it would also serve to thwart any attempts at stealth if needed. It stops flashing, however, once it is put aside, so that the doors can be bolted. The shrieks of the Dromodon calf can still be heard above the din of the fuzzy monsters … a particularly horrible sound, indeed.

"Buttons!" cries out another voice. Sounds like a child – race indeterminate.

Jynx blinks; there's someone else down here? He picks up the magic dagger again, hoping to illuminate the face. "Hello? Who's there?"

The foppish fox snores loudly, somehow deep in blissful oblivion, despite the horrors going on topside.

The voice doesn't appear to be coming from down here. It must be from somewhere topside. A door slams. "No!" cries out another voice. Sounds like an older male. Rhian, perhaps?

The magic dagger flashes dimly in Jynx's hand, at erratic intervals, casting eerie shadows on the walls and stacks of casks in the cellar of the Blackshire Inn.

The Khatta blinks; looks like some others are trying their luck in here. Unbolting the door and swinging it open, the feline pokes his head outside. "Hello," he calls out. "Who's there?"

As Jynx pokes his head out of the cellar, he sees a male Rhian at the front door of the inn, with a terror-stricken look on his face. "Morticia! COME BACK!" he brays … but his nostrils flare and his eyes are wild in the way that signals that he is a horse in the grip of blood-terror, barely able to sustain his instinctual urge to gallop and smash his way about in a senseless mode of flight from the terrors outside. The inn door has been hastily unbolted – from the inside.

The bunnies can be heard outside, intermixed with the cries of the Dromodon calf – and those of a child calling out and sobbing for "Buttons".

Jynx's eyes go wide. His experience with little sisters already tells him what has just happened. Without so much as a word to the Rhian, the Khatta grabs up his daggers and runs to the door, quickly heading outside.

The black Khatta's reflexes save him from a quick end to this adventure, as he manages to instinctively parry two incoming bunny monsters … cleaving them with obsidian and steel, and reducing them instantly into puffs of red smoke.

The Khatta's heart beats wildly, having just been saved on reflexes alone. He quickly looks about for the child, keeping on watch and guard for more bunnies as well.

The Dromodon calf can be seen galloping around the fountain, a couple of bunny monsters clinging to its flanks and scraping it up pretty badly. Tough Dromodon hide has kept it from being totally mauled by now, but it surely won't be much longer until either the calf succumbs to its wounds … or suffers a wound bad enough that its days would be numbered regardless.

The child – a little black Rhian – chases after the calf … but soon she is noticed by four of the bunny monsters, who hop after her. She manages to sweep one aside with the broom she was carrying as a makeshift weapon … but the second bunny leaps onto the broom stick and snaps it into splinters with its oversized jaws. The girl screams, tripping on her dress as she skids to the cobblestones. She tries to cover her face with her hands, as the bunnies go after her.

On impulse, Jynx runs over to the child, swiping at any of the furry monstrosities that he can with both his daggers. He begins to pant, all the work and the sun above heating him up.

All that training must be paying off! Despite the exertion … it's almost easy, the way the feline manages to slice through three of the bunnies. What luck! Er … luck? No, it can't be that. But then, this is underscored, as luck seems to run out: Jynx dispatches three of the furry horrors tormenting the Rhian child, but the fourth one manages to get past his defenses … scoring a rather nasty hit that tears through Jynx's nice shirt … and a bit beneath it, too.

The Rhian girl looks up hopefully at her benefactor, then covers her eyes and shrieks as she sees the monster rake the feline's right side.

Jynx simultaneously swipes at the bunny and attempts to grab the Rhian girl. He can still hear the cries of the Dromodon calf, but it seems there's little he can do. An idea then pops into the cat's head: He remembers the villagers' talk about 'vampires', and the effects that blessed water has on them. Hoping it works, Jynx pulls one of the vials from his pouch, and splashes it all around at the creatures, still trying to grab the child.

Time passes in a blur. The "lucky" bunny is gone in a puff of red, and the Rhian girl is easily in Jynx's grasp. The vial is a bit harder to fumble with in the confusion, but somehow the feline manages to dig it out and fling it at the calf … cork still on. There's no time to ponder the mistake, as the vial shatters upon hitting the calf's hide. It can't be too pleasant for the calf, but it's obviously less pleasant for the two clinging bunnies, as they loose their grip and fall to the ground, shrieking as their bodies slowly dissolve into a fine red mist.

With horse-child in grasp, Jynx sprints back for the Tavern. "Here, Buttons, here!" he calls out to the calf, hoping it understands what to do. He winces as the pain in his side throbs.

The calf seems inclined to just panic … but Jynx has effectively cleared a path through the scattered monsters, and the remaining beasts serve well enough to herd the Dromodon in the direction of the tavern, after Jynx. The child clasps at Jynx fiercely – but thankfully, Rhians don't have claws. The older Rhian is at the door, clubbing a couple of rabbits with a broken table leg, sending them … well, wherever little bunny monsters go when they turn into puffs of red smoke. He throws the door open for Jynx and the child, and once they're inside – the frightened calf galloping in as well – he slams the door shut and bolts it once more.

The Khatta just gives the adult Rhian a quick look. "Quick, down to the cellar – the doors are stronger!" he says between pants. The feline then makes straight for said cellar, trying not to collapse.

The male Rhian tries to wrestle with the Dromodon calf, but it's too panicked to take to any handling, no matter how well-intentioned. It topples a table in its panic. At last, the large Rhian smacks it on a spot on its head, and the calf stumbles, then falls … to be hefted up and bodily hauled toward the cellar doors after Jynx and the girl. Once the cellar doors are bolted shut, it's nearly pitch black again … except for the occasional eerie flash of Kuravel, the Blade of Omens. The flash doesn't seem to be so intense now, though. Maybe that's good?

Jynx, however, only notices it slightly. After putting the girl down on the floor, he clutches at his injured side, hissing a bit at the sting.

The male Rhian sweeps up the child in his arms, hugging her tightly. He makes choking noises, as he tries to say something that comes out garbled … but the word "sorry" can be made out clearly enough several times over.

The Dromodon calf slowly regains its senses, and starts braying for a bit … but it soon is apparent that it has exhausted itself, and it collapses in a heap once it has wedged itself in between a couple of piles of casks and a stone wall.

The black Khatta sits against the wall, using his shirt to make a make-shift bandage for his side. He looks over to the Rhian and child, letting them be alone for a few moments, before noticing the calf. "Um, sir? I think your Dromodon may need some help… "

The foppish fox makes some snorkling noises … then slowly stirs. "Ugh! Ungh! I say! Who put out the lights?" He sniffs at the air. "Hmm."

The pounding and shrieking noises of the bunny monsters get less frequent, and more quiet. Finally, the noise stops entirely, and the blade has ceased its flickering. The Rhian can be heard stumbling through the darkness, knocking over a couple of empty casks. "Ouch!" cries the fox. "Terribly sorry," apologizes the Rhian, as he seeks out the Dromodon calf. It cries in protest as he checks its wounds.

Jynx checks the dagger for a few moments longer, then creeps up the stairs, putting his ear against it to take a listen…

It's quiet outside. Quiet … except a few footsteps and shuffling noises can be heard in the main room of the inn.

The Khatta unlatches the bolt to the cellar doors, swinging them open just slightly, and takes a peek outside.

A lady wolf swings around, crossbow in hand, pointing it at Jynx. Her ears flick with a start, and she hastily sets the crossbow aside. It's Madame Garou, the proprietress of the inn. "Oh! Master Kurai! It is you! So sorry."

A few other guests of the inn tentatively peek out through the windows. A Korv farmer – Farmer Poe – caws, "All clear! No fuzzies in sight!"

Jynx's heart jumps up in his throat as he spies the crossbow, then he swallows it back as it is put aside. He pushes the doors the rest of the way open, and stumbles out. "We took refuge down there, hope you don't mind." He turns back to the opening. "All clear!"

The foppish fox dashes out. "Yay! Now I can finish off the rest of that al – aieeee!" He stops, as he realizes that there are guests about, including those who would make claims on the mugs of ale, no doubt. "Finish … finish the … the Aye-aye-aye song! o/~ Aye-yi-yi-yiiiiii! o/~" He breaks into a meaningless song and dance.

The black cat just glares at the noisy fox, and makes his way back to the cellar door to take a look down. "Everything all right down there?"

The Rhian comes up with the girl beside him, as he carries the scratched-up Dromodon calf. "I must thank you, sir, for saving my daughter … and her pet. We are travelers, and were unaware that there was danger in the village as well."

The Rhian little girl throws her arms around Jynx in a way that would seem befitting of Eve if she were here. "You saved Buttons! Oh thankyouthankyouthankyou!"

"Oof!" Jynx winces as the girl hugs him, sending his sides into flames. Are all little girls this hyper? "You're welcome!" He manages to chuckle. He looks back to the adult Rhian, trying to calm the little one. "This place is quite hazardous all over. My name is Feli Kurai; what brings you to Sylvania?"

"I am Undertaker Grene. But you can call me Gan," says the horse, as he bows. "Word went out of a terrible tragedy near the Northern Shore, and they have great need for help in interring the dead. I set out with all due haste … but perhaps a bit too much. I have not taken this road before. I think I shall not be taking it soon again."

"I don't blame you at all," says Jynx, setting Morticia down on the ground. "The land here is under some sort of spell, and I'm trying to remove it."

"Really?" responds Grene, as if this weren't already obvious by the presence of monsters. "How do you intend to go about doing such a thing?"

Morticia just beams at Jynx, no doubt thinking flowery thoughts about her hero.

Jynx puts the sack of stakes and vials up on a table, sliding his daggers back into their hiding places. "There's a giant crater with a crystal inside, but a piece of it is missing. I know I had the shard back at my home, but when I looked for it, it was gone. The other night, I looked again, but someone had ransacked the room, leaving only these untouched." He waves a paw at the assorted vials and wooden stakes.

The undertaker raises his eyebrows at the sight of the objects. He examines them. "You are quite a well-equipped hunter of the darkness, young man!"

Morticia now has taken to swabbing the scratches of the Dromodon, and talking to it in a mothering voice as she tends to its wounds. It may only be a calf, but Dromodons are fairly tough, and it looks like this one should make it through this little adventure all right.

The Khatta blinks. "Hunter of darkness?" He looks to the stakes and vials. "I just found these in the lab. I had heard that they were effective against those 'vampire' things, but I didn't realize they worked that well." He looks up to the Rhian, "You haven't by chance heard of a Count Vlad before, have you?"

The undertaker nods. "Why, yes. He is the lord of Tempest County, from which I hail."

Jynx does a double take, his eyes wide. "You're not serious, are you?" He stares at the Rhian. "What can you tell me about him?"

"Well," says the Rhian, putting one hand to his muzzle as he thinks the matter over, "he's a fairly depressive sort, when he's not throwing wild parties and engaging in other behavior unbefitting a lord. The Father is always after him – always bringing up that curse of his, of course, though it never does much good in impressing upon the count the danger to his soul. Ironic, that he doesn't believe in that sort of thing."

"Whoa, slow down a minute." Jynx rubs his forehead. "The Father? A curse? What's all that about?"

The Rhian looks puzzled, then says, "Father Stark, that is. He's the priest of the county seat. He's been after Count Tempest for years – and the priest before him, and the priest before him. Count Tempest is fairly on in years, though he doesn't show it, on account of the Curse."

"What exactly is the curse?" Jynx asks. "Is it the vampire thing? How did he get it?"

The Rhian frowns. "No, not the vampire thing – though that's the popular rumor. Count Tempest bullied a Life Mage into granting him some wish of his … and got it in a manner he did not expect. When he sleeps, he is as if dead … and his body does not age while asleep, so he has advanced very little in years. Even more, he is only awake at night, which shortens his waking hours. The light of day is a curse to him."

The Khatta cocks his head sideways. "Does it kill him if he is out in it?"

"In truth, I do not know. The Life-Mage must have told him, but he lets out very little of his condition to even his most trusted aides." The undertaker sighs. "He seems to think himself immortal … though in truth he is only aging more slowly than the rest of us, since he spends less of his time among the living. He, too, shall have to face the inevitable. I think he realizes this, and buries his concerns in liquor and the company of disreputable women. And that accursed fighting he keeps getting into with strange foreigners… "

Jynx rubs his arms, setting his ears back. "Yes, that's how I came to know him… " The Khatta sighs, "He said something about a tournament."

The horse nods. "Many strange foreigners, some who do not even speak the local tongue, have come to challenge him. No one knows how many battles he has won or lost … but we suspect he has won most if not all of the challenges, by the demeanor of the foreigners when they leave."

The undertaker shakes his head. "It might be better for him to lose. Perhaps some humility would convince him of his mortality."

"I can tell you from experience that he more than likely won." The Khatta shoves all the vampire hunting tools back in his sack. "Don't worry; he and I have a score to settle."

The Rhian's eyebrows raise. "Surely you don't intend to use those on the count?"

Jynx slings the pouch back over his arm. "Nope, just my paws and claws if I can help it. Does he deserve this stuff?"

"Hardly!" whinnies the horse. "Oh, sure, he is a disagreeable sort at times, and prone to get a temper when he's had too much liquor … but he has hardly killed anyone, save for a few thieves and murderers to be executed, and a barrow wight or two."

The Khatta blinks at this. "So I guess he's not the monster I thought he was… " He shrugs, "Looks like I'll just have to pound his face in then." He grins.

The Rhian sighs and shakes his head. "I shall not ask how he crossed you, young sir. In any case, I thank you greatly for saving my daughter. If you should ever be in need of an undertaker, I shall be glad to lend my services!" He pauses, looking thoughtful. "Ah … I do not mean that in a morbid way, of course. I do hope you shan't be personally needing one for a long time!"

Jynx blinks, and just nods dumbly. "Er… likewise. And good luck on your journey! If you need a place to stay, my castle is always open to you." The Khatta digs in his money pouch, and pulls out a few shekels, which he offers to the wolfess tavern owner. "But if you don't mind, I think I'm going to pass out now… " As if on cue, the cat slumps out of his chair, and onto the ground. Looks like the fight took quite a bit out of him after all!

The fox laughs at Jynx, takes a swig of ale … then passes out, too. The wolfess sighs … then digs out a blanket and drapes it over the feline right where he lay. For this moment, at least, some rest for the weary.