The Varnhold Vanishing

Chapter 1

Autumn 4728

It has been three years since Queen Rhoswen tried to escape her prison. The realm grows, and - largely by acclaim - has been named Eadfria, after the fallen hero of the nation. The guard in particular - especially the veterans who remember his leadership in the early days - mark his death each year with a brief ceremony outside the barracks in Lakeside. Of the other explorers from twelve years ago, only Aldwulf is still adventuring: Guthmund was lost when he succumbed to lycanthropy, while Alhandra has retired from the dangerous life and now runs the hospital in Lakeside, leading a small team of clerics and alchemists who heal all comers.

Cuichelm and Aldwulf, with their newer companions Owena and Coenred, have been travelling around the realm, but it has been a quiet few years. A few isolated incidents with apparent fey incursions, and strange portals opening, caused some alarm: but each time, the problem was easy to solve. A travelling half-orc, Hinnerk by name, met the heroes while they were investigating one of these, and despite some initial caution, he has become a valued member of the team.

Lamashan 4728

Lamashan was always considered a bad month. The Mother of Monsters, Lamashtu, is its patron: and it is viewed as a time when evil things crawl in the darkness. Small wonder, then, that it was in Lamashan that the silence from Varnhold became too long to ignore. A long summer, a good harvest, and established trade had led to Eadfria being in a celebratory mood, and when the previous month's caravan did not arrive, no-one was too concerned. When the second caravan in a row was late, then a week late, then two: the council asked the heroes to investigate, and so they set off. The long journey over the mountains is safe enough now, patrolled on both sides to keep bandits and monsters at bay, and despite the exposed position of the Pass Road, the great roc does not often attack groups of travellers. It seemed like a quiet trip, with little to worry about, until the heroes entered Varnhold Vale.

The Vale was quiet. Too quiet. The outlying farms were deserted, with nothing moving beyond the crops in the breeze. There was no birdsong, no hum of insects: only the wind made any sound. Varnhold, too, was deserted: the town was empty, with no people to be seen. Some hogs had starved in their pen, but the bodies were undecayed; no scavengers had touched the corpses. Apart from that, there was no sign of life anywhere.

A slow and cautious investigation was the next step: each building in turn was checked. The doors were unlocked, and some stood open: meals and mugs of ale, undecayed, stood on tables in the inn; but any footprints had long been washed away by rain. The deserted town stood, a mute witness to whatever had removed its inhabitants. Three clues only were there:

• Carved into the inn door, likely by a dagger, the single word NARON. Everyone recognised this as the name of the centaur tribe to the east, who were known to raid Varnhold lands on occastion.
• The guest room of Maestro Pendrod, a researcher and former teacher of Maegar Varn's. He was staying at the inn, to research a heavy jade bracelet that had been found "near the source of a river, in the mountains". His notes mentioned the centaurs, suggesting the bracelet might be ancient centaur workmanship, but they tailed off abruptly, with the last page repeating the mysterious word Murammon.
• A beautiful darkwood and ivory bow, found in the fort: Owena recognised it as centaur workmanship.

The party set off to the East, relieved to hear wildlife again as they travelled away from Varnhold. A day's ride away from centaur lands, they were attacked in the night by two shadow mastiffs, apparently summoned or teleported directly near their camp. Who did this remains a mystery...