[Eonwe]

Returning home late from his job at the meatpacking plant, Eonwe was unaware that anything was amiss in that peaceful vale of Tinsletown, ever a quiet abode of harmony. In fact, the first news he heard was pertaining to free drinks at Boromir’s café.

A fine evening this, and most fortunate it is, too, he thought to himself as he made his way toward that age-old establishment, known for it’s excellent food, fine company, and hearty ale. How wrong he was.

As he entered, he sensed something was different. There was none of the usually boisterous laughter, clinking of glasses, and general hubbub that is typically expected of Boromir’s café. A subdued atmosphere reigned throughout the place. Even the phantom was inexplicably sober. He ordered his usually foaming mug of ale and sat at the bar.

“Well, what’s with the place,” he asked quietly to the bartender.

“Ah, didn’t you hear! Wilwa, may she rest in peace, cruelly murdered, and by three of our own, too, they say! Has the whole town on edge. They say they are really wolves who inhabit the bodies of ordinary villagers. During the night, however, they assume their true form and devour unhappy souls!”

“Tis’ evil news on this fine night, friend! And how are we to rid ourselves of these creatures, if we cannot tell even who has committed this murder?”

“That remains to be seen. Perhaps they will make a false move, and betray their counsels. Who knows; but we must live by our own wits in these trying days.”