The unnatural moon casts its light on the doomed town of Auerswald
Everything is sick and green and dark. Chaos cannot be controlled.
But the Witchhunters will try, says Hazleman, this town must be saved
You will face more darkness here, but darkness must be braved.
Garen Eich, his quarry, is still unaccounted for since the recent strife
The moon’s effects may be tangible, and the red pox is rife
The Shallyan hospice, well you’ll see why they haven’t been able to give much aid
And to top it off the garrison is on strike, they won’t die unless paid
The town is overcrowded and in ruins and in the midst of a crime spree
People are either homeless, starving or diseased, but mostly all three
They flock to shanty towns that have sprung up in the burnt and flooded sprawl
And the rat creatures are here somewhere, waiting, watching and behind it all
The party conferred with each other, how best to start the first day
The captain of the guard was very helpful enough to show you the way.
Hazleman left you, to go demand money from the Merchants guild
Coin is the fastest way to see the town purged and healed and starting to rebuild.
Kvothe visited the Brimstone club, and the bartender told Murk to get hopping
Arminius and Graille considered haircuts from the Barber-Surgeon while the elf went shopping.
Finally they set off to examine the sisters of mercy, to see what did transpire
The diagnosis was bad though, and the only prescription was fire
While Murk went to the club for strong liquor and a lass (not for a rave)
Arminius checked on the Temple of Morr and found it quiet as the grave
His stroll back to the others was interrupted by a heavily pregnant mugger
Starving and shiving, he wasn’t sure whether to hug her or slugg’ er
So while a harsh lesson was taught about pre-natal mood swings
Murk returned with all the spirits in the bar and a side of hot wings
Some masked men shot at him and he dropped a building on them in return
Give the dwarf his rum, another lesson swiftly learned.
So the Shallyan Hospice is cinders now, just another husk in the ashen part of town
Burning the sisters alive is a deed the party may find hard to live down
But Graille is proof the red pox is not vanquished, the party grows nervous with each sneeze
However that didn’t stop Murk from executing a guard for having the very same disease
The mad dwarf was found in the temple of Verena, blind and madder still
Someone had tied him up, stabbed him, and left him to catch a chill
The party took him to the refinery, gave him to the care of his kind.
They garrison is clearly not safe, and “Honeydew” needs somewhere to unwind
Kvothe and Graille visited the creaking ramshackle Temple of Mannan.
They found a salt of the sea parishioner, who wasn’t the priest’s biggest fan
He clammed up fast and bolted when he saw the hats they wore.
Powering through Kvothe’s fireballs, the seared fish made it out the door
Steward Schlimm was wonderfully generous when they visited the silver chalice
While Lord Falkenhayn begged a favour, Lady Julbach stared with malice
They’ve got a big ol mansion to fill now, the Graff’s steward seems on the level
Plus a good chunk of silver promised to them, getting money is always the devil
The party throw their weight and hats around, using the Witchhunter mantle erroneously
They demand room and board, so Aldric the scribe is woken quite unceremoniously
Bought a drink as an apology, apparently the scribes are doing a roaring trade.
Everyone wants reminders written and read; people’s memories are want to fade.
No, nothing of interest really, just letters and memos, oh well, since you kept asking.
Here’s a creepy little note I was asked to write, quite sad, about a boys passing
The name echoes in your mind as you take the stairs to bed
The fate of Lars the farm boy and the “Angel” outside his window fills you with dread.
“Der Grobman”, the boogeyman, does the phrase mean anything to you?
That was day one. Ready for day two?