At midmorning, Nocturne Vsevel was enjoying a stroll down the busy market street of Raven Port, a small maritime town in the human kingdom of Erenor. The subtle smell of sea salt filled the air, a detail every native of the port town had grown accustomed to and fond of. Not long after, Nocturne arrived at the Raven’s Nest, the biggest and most well known tavern in the port. The beer was watered down and the menu lackluster, but most would argue it was the welcoming environment and the company that made the Raven’s Nest a special place: it was the gathering point of Raven Port, whether one needed a beer to unwind after a long day of work, or simply wanted to catch up with a friend.

A bell chimed as Nocturne walked into the tavern. “Busy as usual,” he muttered to himself, making his way past humans, dwarves, half-elves and gnomes drinking and chattering. He signaled to the bartender for a beer and was quickly obliged by Arthoriel, a behemoth Dragonborn with red scales.

“Arthur, be a dear and take these glasses to the back, will ya?” an almost equally towering woman, standing at six feet tall, addressed the Dragonborn. Yorel was the owner of the Raven’s Nest and she carried herself with poise, a kind yet respectable demeanor, and arms that could split the brawniest man of the realm in half. Arthoriel nodded, promptly taking care of the task.

“Will that be all for ya?” Yorel asked Nocturne, who had yet to have a single sip of his beer.

“Load another one up, actually.” Nocturne raised his pint at Yorel. She smirked, reaching for another glass.

“What’s new, Noct?” She slid over the second pint.

“Not much, Yorel,” he replied, offering a smirk himself. “Business as usual. I’m supposed to be meeting Neeg here-- have you seen him around?” Nocturne scanned the room, then turned back to Yorel.

“Neeg? Can’t say I have.”

“Huh, curious.” Nocturne stared down at his freshly poured pint. “He’s not usually late.”

The bell chimed once more, catching Nocturne and Yorel’s attention. A half-elf in billowy white robes strolled in. He scanned the room, slowly making his way to the bar.

“Well, he’s not from here,” Nocturne muttered.

“Definitely not.” Yorel responded. “Can I help you?” she raised her voice, addressing the half-elf. He looked at her, startled.

“Uh, Cer-” he tripped over his words. “Certainly!” He approached the bar and fully removed his hood, revealing shoulder-length blonde hair.

“Can I have…” He stared blankly, thinking to himself. “Water? Actually--”

Yorel was already reaching for a glass when the half-elf took back his request.

“Beer, just a beer--,” he said, in one breath.

“So… beer?” Yorel asked.

The half-elf clicked his tongue. “Uh, let’s go with water.”

Nocturne watched this unfold from the corner of his eye. Unnoticed by him, a redheaded half-elf woman sitting down at the opposite end of the bar and a red-skinned goblin a few tables down also watched intently.

“Better make up your mind there, friend,” Nocturne said. “Yorel’s got other people to tend to.”

The half-elf widened his eyes.

“Ah, right!” he exclaimed. “Beer, then.”

“Beer coming right up.” Yorel poured the half-elf a pint as he took a seat beside Nocturne.

“I’m Emyr, by the way.” The half-elf sat awkwardly on the stool, moving around as if attempting to find a position he’d be comfortable in before he addressed the stranger further.

“Emyrien Beseux,” he concluded. Nocturne turned to him and nodded.

“Nocturne Vsevel. Pleasure to meet you, Emyr.” He raised his pint. “What brings you to town?”

Emyr fidgeted at the question. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you’re not from around here, are you?”

“I am not, no.”

“So… what brings you in?”

“Oh, well, you know…” He drifted off for a moment. “Just visiting.”

“Just visiting, huh?” Nocturne chuckled. “Well, I hope you enjoy your stay.” Nocturne smiled warmly at the half-elf.

Yorel placed a glass of water on the counter. “I figured you’d have both,” she said.

Emyr looked up at her. “O-oh, thank you. Yorel, was it?”

She nodded, “At your service.”

It wasn’t long before the familiar bell chimed once more. This time, however, it was accompanied by frantic huffing and puffing. A short human with frazzled hair and smudges of dirt on his clothes and face rushed inside.

“Help me!” he yelled, “Somebody please help me!”

The crowd seemed unfazed by the man’s pleads. Only a few heads turned to him, and even some of the people he addressed directly ignored him.

Yorel sighed. “What is it now, Irah?”

The man came to a stop in the middle of the tavern, the sound of his heavy breaths filling the room.

“I saw a beast in the woods nearby, Yorel,” he started, fear in his eyes.

“By the Gods, Irah, not this again--,” Yorel said, reaching for her temples.

“It’s true! I swear to you, I saw something.” Irah was widely known as the town vagabond. He’d spent his whole life in Raven Port, yet people had little memory of his background. Some said he had a wife and children once, but that his descent into madness left them no choice but to abandon him, as they left Raven Port forever. For as long as anyone could remember, Irah the Mad wandered the streets of the port alone, frantically recounting what seemed like ghost stories to anyone who would lend an ear.

“What did you see, Irah?” Yorel practiced patience with him, though his antics often drove business away from the Nest.

“I- I can’t explain it,” he said.

“Alright, Arthur--.” She motioned to the Dragonborn, ready to have the man removed from the premises.

“No! Please. Please… just--.” He extended his right hand towards Arthoriel, eyes darting back and forth from the Dragonborn to the woman. “Just come with me.”

Yorel motioned to Arthur once more.

“Yorel, please!” he begged. “The guards won’t listen, but that thing-- Whatever it was, it’s dangerous.”

She froze. For once, she felt the sincerity in Irah’s words. She let out a long sigh, then looked at Nocturne.

“Noct, I hate to do this, but would you mind?”

Nocturne gulped some beer and pointed at himself. “Me? Yorel, that’s not really my line of w--”

The woman raised a hand, causing him to quiet down. “I know,” she said, “but I also know you’re capable. Look, have you met Riley?” She directed his attention to the redheaded half-elf woman sitting at the other end of the bar. Riley, who was trying her best to stay out of the altercation, promptly spit out her beer at the sound of her name. “She’s as dangerous as they come,” Yorel stated, “and I’m sure she’d be happy to help. Won’t you, Riley?”

The redhead stood up, “I don’t know, Yorel. This seems a little--”

Yorel wagged her finger. “You owe me one.”

Riley sighed.

“Hell, I’ll even offer a coin.” Yorel leaned in towards Nocturne, “I’m just trying to get him out of here, Noct,” she whispered.

The red-skinned Goblin sitting a few tables down suddenly perked up, his ears twitching underneath the white hood covering most of his head.

“If there’s coin, even I will help ya!” the creature exclaimed, walking over to the group.

“And who might you be?” Nocturne looked down at the goblin.

“The name’s Skleeg,” he said. “And like I said, for the right price, I’ll offer my services.”

“Right,” Nocturne dismissed the goblin, turning his attention to Yorel.

“Alright, I guess I can go take a look.” Nocturne stood up, dusting his clothes.

“Great!” Yorel exclaimed. “And you, Emyr, why don’t you go with them?”

Emyr, who had been quietly sipping on his beer with his head down, widened his eyes. “I do apologize, but I am not exactly equipped for this kind of activity.” He chuckled nervously.

“Just come along,” Nocturne said. “Might as well see what Raven Port has to offer.”

“Uh… if you say so,” Emyr sighed.

“Do let me know what you find,” Yorel said, mouthing a “thank you” to Nocturne as they took their leave.

Once outside, Nocturne adjusted the multiple belts strapped to his pants and checked for his weapon, a baton holstered at his side.

“This better be good, Irah,” he said, a tinge of annoyance in his voice.

“I- I promise you, good Nocturne,” Irah stuttered. “Whatever this beast is must be dealt with!”

Riley, Skleeg and Emyr stood behind Nocturne and Irah, each looking in a different direction as if to avoid conversation with one another. The town was as busy as ever that afternoon, townsfolk mingling, merchants hard at work, and the voice of the town crier spreading news.

“Starfall Festival! Starfall Festival!” yelled the town crier. “The biggest event of the year is upon us, you can’t miss it!”

Emyr grabbed a flyer for the festival as the group walked past the townsquare, while Nocturne implored Irah to take the lead and show them the beast he claimed to have seen in the nearby forest. It was clear that Nocturne was not convinced, and being a native of Raven Port himself, he had learned to mistrust Irah’s word. Despite his reservations, however, he knew if what Irah talked about was true, the town could very well be in danger.

***

The party arrived at the gates, where two guards stood quietly tending to their posts. The men in plate armor nodded at the them as they walked by.

“So? Where to?” Nocturne asked, impatiently.

“Just this way!” Irah responded, beckoning towards the woods just outside Raven Port. The leaves rustled in the heavy wind, a sign that summer was nearing an end, and soon Raven Port would feel a slight chill in the air.

Emyr, who had been reluctantly tailing behind the group, came to a sudden stop.  “I don’t think this is a good idea,” he said, “what if there really is something out there?”

The red-headed half-elf sighed. “Then we kill it,” she responded, matter-of-factly.

“Kill it?!” Emyr’s expression changed from concern to pure exasperation. “Are you even equipped for such a thing?” He stared at the woman.

Riley rolled her eyes and subtly lifted her cloak, revealing twin daggers and a rapier.

Emyr stared in awe. “W-well, okay then,” he said, defeated, “I’ll be right behind you.”

The party nodded in agreement and ventured into the woods.

Raven Port did not boast the most heavily forested areas of Erenor. However, the woods surrounding the town did eventually lead to Eredin, a forest standing as border between Erenor and the dwarven kingdom of Thulheim. As such, the trees were tall and vast, and once one ventured deep enough, sunlight barely crept through the treeline. The rag tag group of adventurers continued deeper and deeper into the woods. Soon enough, the friendly confines of Raven Port were no longer in view behind them, and all they could hear was the sound of their footsteps displacing grass and dirt.

“Stop!” Emyr exclaimed in a muffled whisper. “Did you hear that?”

Riley pulled out her daggers without hesitation, while Nocturne’s hand hovered over his baton. Emyr looked around, frantically attempting to spot the source of the noise he had heard.

“By the Gods, Emyr,” Nocturne whispered. “I didn’t hear anything.”

“Nothin’ to be scared of, elf boy,” Skleeg spoke up, unamused by the group’s panic.

Irah, who had nearly bolted over Emyr’s sudden statement, gathered himself.  “J-just a little further,” he said, his stutter more obvious than ever. “I saw it just ahead.”

They resumed their slow pace, with Emyr remaining at the flank, scanning their surroundings for any possible threat. He clutched a book at his side as he trudged along.

***

Sunlight was hardly visible by the time Emyr came to a stop once more. He sensed movement in the bushes around them, and this time, the rest of the party could sense it, too. The blonde half-elf whipped out his book and quickly shuffled through a few pages. He then pointed eastward.

“Over there!” he said. “There’s something in the bushes.”

Not a single second passed before a low, sinister growl echoed through the woods. The group carefully formed a circle, attempting to take a defensive formation to prepare for whatever was hunting them. One by one, the adventurers drew their weapons, as the growls grew in volume and number. A single drop of sweat slid down Emyr’s temple, whose left arm extended with his palm open while his right hand held his spellbook. He felt the sweat on his palm turn to ice, a clear sign that he was ready to sling a frost spell at anyone or anything that came out of the woodwork.

“Steady, everyone…” Nocturne whispered to the group, as the growls drew closer. In a flash, a ferocious wolf emerged from the bushes, bolting in Emyr’s direction. The young wizard fired a frostbolt at the animal, managing only to graze it.

“Shit!” Emyr hissed, as two, three, four more wolves emerged and rushed their prey. The party was completely surrounded.

In the blink of an eye, Riley sheathed her daggers, readied her shortbow, and fired an arrow at one of the incoming wolves. The arrow dug into the wolf’s shoulder, and blood oozed out of the fresh wound, but the animal did not miss a step.

“Here they come!” Skleeg yelled, holding a mace in his right hand and a wooden shield in his left. A wolf tackled the red-skinned goblin, who blocked the attack with his shield. Dirt picked up behind his feet as the wolf pushed and attempted to bite him. Skleeg swiped at the beast with his mace, dealing a blow to its head. The wolf yelped, but quickly bit into the goblin’s shield once more. Splinters flew in every direction as the animal’s teeth repeatedly dug its fangs into the wooden shield.

“These ain’t normal wolves! Whadda ya feed ‘em in Raven Port?” the goblin yelled, hysterically.

That much was clear. Nocturne had seen his fair share of wolves beyond Raven Port’s walls, and none of them ever acted this aggressively. Someone or something had caused this, but what?

“Hold your ground!” Nocturne commanded, firing a bolt of white flame at one of the animals, causing it to go up in a blaze.

“Where the hell is Irah?” Riley yelled, as she fended off a wolf with her rapier.

Irah was nowhere to be seen, though the party failed to notice his absence in the heat of battle. Nocturne fired off one more bolt, dispatching a second wolf, while Riley ran her rapier through another then rushed to Skleeg’s aid. The goblin clearly had experience in combat, but his size served as a disadvantage against multiple ferocious beasts; two wolves now tried to bite at him, and one succeeded, digging its fangs into Skleeg’s arm. He winced and cursed under his breath, before smashing his mace into the animal’s face.

Emyr took aim at at one of the beasts rushing towards him, but another pounced at him before he could sling a spell. The half-elf barely evaded the attack, and before he could recover his footing, another wolf was fast approaching.

“There’s too many of them!” he cried, managing to sling a frostbolt and successfully hitting the incoming wolf.

Nocturne turned to face the wizard just in time to see this. He would’ve been impressed, were they not in a dire situation. He noticed one more beast closing ground between itself and the half-elf. His eyes widened and his heart raced, realizing the imminent danger. In that very second, he knew he had to warn Emyr, but his dry lips remained pursed. In the blink of an eye, he watched the beast pounce at the unsuspecting wizard. Emyr turned as he heard the growls and pants of the beast behind him, and his spellbook hit the ground as the wolf’s fangs dug deep into his clavicle. Pain snapped across the half-elf’s body. In that moment, he felt everything and nothing at all; the warmth of his own blood as it quickly oozed out of his body, the indescribable sensation of his flesh tearing open. Emyr hit the ground, unconscious.

Nocturne could not believe his eyes. His vision focused on the now motionless Emyr, blood pooling under him. The beast had managed to tear into the half-elf’s shoulder and throat. Nocturne was no doctor, nor was he gifted in healing magics, but he knew that if Emyr was not tended to quickly, he would not last much longer. The wolf looked up at Nocturne, muzzle crimson with Emyr’s blood. He desperately wanted to move, to dispatch this threat and get help for this stranger who was roped into this madness, but he found himself frozen. In that moment, Nocturne Vsevel realized the true gravity of the situation. He had no idea if these were the beasts Irah had talked about. In fact, he had truly believed Irah was lying, as he had done many times before. So he went along, ready to dismiss this as yet another of the vagabond’s antics. Now, their lives were in danger because of it. He tightened his grip on the baton in his right hand and took a single step forward, but before he could take another, a flash of red whizzed past him.

Riley methodically disposed of the wolves surrounding Emyr, stabbing one with her rapier, then slicing another with her dagger. Whoever this woman was, this wasn’t the first time she was fighting for her life. Before Nocturne could sling another spell or even say another word, the beasts laid lifeless around the rogue. She swung her rapier once more, clearing off most of the blood that was covering it, before sheathing it. She turned to Nocturne, who just stood there, perplexed.

“What are you waiting for?” she asked, nonchalantly. “The kid’s as good as dead if we don’t act quickly.”

That snapped Nocturne back to reality. “R-right,” he said, rushing to Emyr’s side and taking a knee.

“Don’t you move him!” Skleeg yelled, running towards the unconscious half-elf himself. “Get out of the way.”

The goblin shoved Nocturne, and kneeled next to Emyr. He rolled up the sleeves of his robes and extended his arms, reaching for the wound.

“What do you think you’re doing, goblin?” Nocturne snapped, reaching for Skleeg’s arms.

The goblin was unfazed by the remark. “Relax, merchant boy,” he said. “I know what I’m doing.” A bright yellow glow suddenly emanated from Skleeg’s hands. He placed them over Emyr’s open wound, and uttered a prayer under his breath. The light brightened and Emyr’s flesh started to stitch itself back together. Soon enough, the wound was gone, and all that remained was dry blood and scabs. Nocturne’s eyes widened.

“You’re--” he struggled to find words. “You’re a cleric.”

“What of it?” Skleeg responded, rolling his sleeves back down.

“Well, your… kind,” Nocturne said, fully realizing the prejudice that filled his words. “They’re not usually--.”

Skleeg looked up to meet Nocturne’s gaze.  “I know,” he responded, before standing up. “He’s no longer in danger, but we should get him a place to rest.” The goblin began to walk away.

Emyr suddenly came to, immediately reaching for his throat and gasping for air. He tried to speak, but found himself coughing instead.

“You’re safe now, Emyr.” Nocturne said, helping the wizard get back on his feet, and offering him his shoulder as support. Riley offered support as well, and the group slowly made their way back to Raven Port.  

The gates to Raven Port were certainly a sight for sore eyes. The two guards eyed the battered party, and though one briefly stopped them, keen on asking what had happened, he decided against it -- the defeated look on their faces said enough. Without question, the guards made way for the adventurers to retreat into the safe haven of the port town.

“Let’s get back to Yorel,” Riley said, still sustaining Emyr’s weight on one of her shoulders.

“What of that one guy,” Skleeg started, turning to the rest of the group, “The loopy one that got us into this whole mess?”

Nocturne sighed. “Let’s tend to Emyr first, then we’ll worry about Irah.”

They all agreed, continuing on to The Raven’s Nest.

***

The tavern was quiet, with only a few patrons sitting around sipping on beer, a complete antithesis to how they left it. Yorel, who was cleaning some glasses as the party walked in, lit up at the sight of them. The expression soon turned to concern, once she took a closer look. The scratches, the torn clothing, dried blood, and the young wizard who could barely stand on his own.

Before she said a word, she beckoned to them and instructed Arthoriel to look after the bar. She then led the party to a room in the back of the tavern. It was a cramped, yet cozy room, somehow fitting in two twin-sized beds, and bedside tables alongside them.

“Set him down here.” Yorel said, motioning to one of the beds. Nocturne and Riley complied, helping Emyr make himself comfortable. She closed the door behind them, resting her robust back on it.

“So.” Yorel sighed. “What in the nine hells happened?”

Nocturne rubbed his forehead. “We…” the young merchant struggled to compose his words.

“We ran into some wolves,” he said. “Aggressive ones.”

Yorel raised a brow. “Wolves did this?”

“Their behavior was not normal,” Riley added. “Perhaps that’s what spooked Irah.”

“And what of him?” Yorel stared at Riley and Nocturne.

“We lost him.” Nocturne said, plainly.

“Lost him?”

“He must’ve run off when the wolves attacked,” the sorcerer responded, exasperated. “I don’t know.”

“So he’s still out there?” Yorel matched Nocturne’s exasperation.

“I am planning to report this to the guard,” Nocturne responded. “So if he is, we will find him.”

“Right…” Yorel’s eyes met the floor. Irah was a nuisance to her business at times, but no one deserved this fate. Yorel knew this, just as much as the party did.

“Anyone coming with me?” Nocturne dusted himself off and prepared to head out.

“I…” Emyr spoke up for the first time since regaining consciousness. “I will stay here.”

“You get some rest, bud,” Skleeg responded, turning from Emyr. “I will go with ‘im.”

“I’ll stay back as well.” Riley was in the middle of wiping off one of her daggers as she spoke. “I’ve got some things to discuss with Yorel.”

Nocturne nodded, and along with the goblin, he set out to report what had happened to the town guard.

They arrived at a small building past the market streets. Only a symbol, reading ‘Raven Port Guard’ carved on a plaque made of wood, distinguished it from the other buildings in the district.

“Stay here,” Nocturne instructed the goblin once they walked inside. “I’ll make this quick.”

“You’ll get no argument from me.” Skleeg squinted his eyes as he scanned the room, nervous to be surrounded by human guards.

Nocturne approached the man sitting at the front desk and promptly explained the situation. Skleeg observed them as they exchanged words: Nocturne looked irritated, but the goblin could not make out what was being said. In a few minutes, Nocturne filled out some paperwork and returned.

“Everythin’ under control?” Skleeg looked up at the sorcerer.

“Town guard is as useless as ever,” he retorted. “But I was able to file a report.”

Once outside, Nocturne started heading in the opposite direction of the Raven’s Nest. Skleeg came to a halt “Tavern’s that way, ainnit?”

Nocturne looked back at the goblin, surprised. It was as though he had suddenly forgotten he was accompanied by someone else. Perhaps due to the situation at hand, or the fact that goblins were not a race Nocturne had been exposed to; he’d only heard about them before, and everything he had heard was negative. They were beasts that roamed the Forgotten Lands at the center of Aidalon, pillaging towns and killing unsuspecting adventurers. As such, Nocturne was weary of Skleeg, regardless of what he had seen him do in battle.

“Right-- I have some business to take care of.” Nocturne offered a weak smile. “You… may come if you’d like.”

The goblin nodded and resumed following the sorcerer.

Though he could hold his own in combat, Nocturne was no adventurer. He came from a family of merchants and notaries, and he himself had started his own business, “Noct’s House,” a place for the less fortunate souls of Raven Port to seek refuge. Given his line of business, he had many run ins with Irah in the past, and each time, he offered the man refuge at his establishment, but Irah always refused.

Noct’s House was among one of the nicer buildings on the merchant row of the Port, sporting red bricks with white accents, and a navy-colored roof. A bell chimed as Nocturne made his way into the establishment, and a pink-haired woman, who at the time was reading a book behind the front desk, was caught by surprise.

“O-oh, Mr. Nocturne!” she exclaimed. “I wasn’t expecting to see you.”

Nocturne smiled at the young woman. “How have you been, Renn?”

“Good, how about yourself?”

“Ah, I’ve seen better days.” He chuckled. “Have you happened to see Neeg today?”

Renn looked up and tapped her chin with her index finger. “Neeg… he hasn’t been around today, no.”

Nocturne clicked his tongue.  “Well, would you mind leaving him a note?”

Renn hastily grabbed some parchment, ink and a quill.

“Tell him to meet me at the Raven’s Nest tomorrow at noon.”

The woman quickly jotted the information down and nodded.

“Thanks, Renn,” Nocturne concluded. “You have a good night now.”

“Of course, you as well, Mr. Nocturne.”

With that, Nocturne beckoned to Skleeg, and the two were off to the market street once more. Nocturne tried to take a second to appreciate the salty breeze, but it was cut short as a hasty Riley bumped into him.  “There you are!” She said, panting, “I’ve been looking for you two.”

Nocturne and Skleeg looked at each other, then back at Riley. “Everything alright?” asked the sorcerer.

“We need you back at the Nest,” she responded plainly. “Now.”

Without missing a beat, the three of them rushed back to the tavern, where Riley led them back into the room where Yorel and Emyr still waited; however, there was one more person with them this time.

Breathing heavily, sitting on the wooden floor, was a bloody and battered Irah. The man slowly raised his gaze to meet Nocturne’s.

“Those wolves…” he started, pausing to catch his breath. “They were not what I saw earlier today.”