Open Chronicles Sorrow in Sincorino

[Eren'thiel Xyrdithas]

It hadn't been long after his time at Atlia Keep that Erën found himself taking on contracts as a Noct Yaegir. Their creed worked well in tandem with his own, so there was really no reason why he shouldn't work alongside them. Doing so, had led him here.

Sincorino was east of Belgrath, on the western-most side of the delta, where the waters met the roots of the Spine. There were homes dotting a hilly landscape that rolled down toward the river, and there the landscape flattened out for a span and was where most of the town was built and encompassed in a somewhat decrepit stone wall.

It was evening when he crested the hill, whereupon he paused, the hooves of his steed scraping against the dusty road. A breeze carried fallen leaves across his path, and as he looked down to the lights of the town below, he spied them, twinkling through the spindly black of leafless branches. For a moment he contemplated this place, and then gently urged his horse forward again, leisurely making their way down the now winding road.

He soon came near to a small home set near the road, little more than a crooked shanty. Just outside, an older man lingered, working away at some peculiarly timed chores. As Erën approached, the old man took notice, and departed from his task to regard him with an inviting wave.

"Did the Keep send you?" the old man asked, a hint of desperation in his tone.

"They did," he replied, and held up a pendant that only a Yaegir would possess as he came near, looming over, "but only the presence of monsters and urgency was ever conveyed."

The man confessed that it was he who had sent the letter, and he had done so with relative haste. He explained that for months now, their town had fallen prey to what he believed was some kind of monster. At first, a few people down at the boats went missing one evening, and everyone assumed there had been some kind of accident. It became a little more suspicious when it happened again, and strange sounds could be heard by the docks at night. But it wasn't until the old man's own wife fell victim to this misfortune that he knew for certain that something terrible was happening. She often enjoyed taking walks by the water in the evening, but never so near.

He said he didn't know truly what was at work, but could think of no one else to call for help than the Noct Yaegir.

After giving his condolences, thanks, and encouragement that he would do what he could, Erën carried on into the town. He passed through a vine-covered gatehouse, whose wooden doors hung open on rusted hinges. Dirt road turned to cobblestone, and the click-clack of his horses hooves echoed down the street of stone houses. He ventured down the empty street and on into the town square, where he found a tavern, a blacksmith, several homes, and an open end leading over toward the riverside street. He also encountered a few of the townsfolk, who greeted him somewhat warily.

He greeted them in return and he declared himself.

"Go to the Sincorino Tavern, you're most likely to find someone more alike in there."

And so, with night beginning to fall, he did.