[Lalaith]

Lalaith awoke, rubbed her eyes, adjusted her navel-jewel and did a few stretches and flik-flaks to get ready for the day. That was a late night that slave-driver Kuruharan forced her to work - some banquet or other for his dubious business contacts.
Let no-one think the life of a girl acrobat was a glamorous one.

Where was everyone? Down at Boromir's cafe, getting drunk - at this hour? Since she'd arrived in town with the fair, Lalaith had been under the impression it was a fairly strait-laced kind of place, full of decent, hard-working types. Not like some places she'd seen.
Listening to the febrile discussions taking place, she realised the full horror of the night's events. Her shock was so great, her navel-jewel fell out, clattering to the floor and rolling under a table unseen. Poor Wilwarin, who had been so kind - she'd been helping her develop a new balancing routine, working out weight distribution with mathematical formulae.
Lalaith listened carefully to the discussions that had been taking place while she slept. She'd knocked around a few places and thought herself a good judge of character. But good enough to spot a werebeast?
Who was trying to lead opinion, to take the lead? Some will have the villagers' best interests at heart, others, maybe not. There's that sot of a Phantom, cleaning himself up like that and handing out advice to all and sundry. Then Perky Ent seemed a little bit, well, too perky for such a sombre occasion. And what of her boss Kuruharan - she knew he was a swine to work for but could he be a wolf in pig's clothing?