"Curse...of course..." Klaus rolls his eyes, smirking a little to himself in the darkness. He would have thought a man of the world like the salesman would be a little less credulous than the local farmers, but maybe Steingart had a reputation for itself for a reason. Still, it wasn't like it was Glumhof.

"I suppose she's a very lazy witch, really, if she's let a town spring up like that." He quips, leaning back and smirking a little wider at his brothers' comments. Now that it came up, he wouldn't mind a meal himself, really, and the faint twinkling of light catches his attention.

"Perhaps the witch ate them all?" He half-murmurs to Griff.

"Yuck. Bet they would be pretty gamey." Griff winces in reply.

"You know, I've never seen a witch before." he adds thoughtfully. "Could be quiet a sight."

"Witches! Great!" Ludwig looks at Jill, a conspiratorial gleam in his eye. "You know..." He pauses for effect, "Jill and I have a theory about, so called 'Witches,'" Pulling a notebook wrapped with a piece of twine out of his coat he unwraps it and starts leafing through, "Basically, it's not 'magic' that they use but they use tried and true techniques to open a door directly to an alternate dimension in which beings live that they then strike deals with." He scans a few pages of the book, seeming to find whatever he was looking for, then jots something down and puts the book away. "Jill will bore you with the mathematical incantations that some of them need to invoke to begin, but they don't do that whole 'sky-clad thing...or they do because they're a bunch of dirty heretical hippies. Right Jill?"

He turns to her waiting for her to respond to his statement.

After several moments of him looking at her, "Uhm...Sure?" she finally says. "But we'll be investigating and finding out one way or another." she adds lamely.

Almost unnoticeably, the driver shakes his head. 'You kids aren't taking this as seriously as you should. But hey, its your funeral!'

'Speaking of which,' he adds, pointing to your right. 'We're here.'

The lantern's light reveals a wooden wall along the right of the road, almost close enough to touch. The wall consists of upright wooden beams, thick as a man's head and sharpened at the tip, lashed together with iron chains. The construction reminds you of a palisade, although the wall stands only a little higher than a man.

'That's the graveyard's wall,' the driver shouts. 'The dead climb out of their graves when Morrslieb shines, but the wall keeps them in. So they dance, and when dawn comes they return to their graves. Woe betide anyone still in there after dark.'

As you ride on, the rain begins to lessen, the downpour slowly turning into a drizzle. You ride on for a little while longer, passing a path leading to your left and instead continuing into what appears to be an abandoned village square, lined at the edge with shabby wooden and stone houses and shops.

Th driver points at the largest building, an L-shaped building with drystone walls and a thatch roof, across the flushed village square. There are a couple of small windows, all of which have been covered by iron-shod wooden shutters.

'That's the Altbreit farm,' the driver calls out. 'You kids best go introduce yourselves. If you grow some common sense before morn, come see me at the inn,' he says, pointing at another building on the other side of the village. 'If you want, I'll take you away from this forsaken place.'

With a nod, he says his goodbyes, leaving you at the farm's door. Tall and of a dark wood, you breifly semnse a touch of foreboding before slamming the black iron doorknocker on the door.

After a short delay, you hear the sound of the door being unbolted on the other side, and the door swings open. In the dim light behind it, you see the stern dark eyes of your uncle looking back at you from beneath wild and furrowed brows, his thin lips pressed together under a short, bushy beard that is almost silver. Looming over you, he gives each of you an appraising look before standing aside, allowing you entry into his farm.

'Good of you to get here on such short notice, lads,' he finally greets you. 'I'm your uncle, Holger. Get in, no need stand about in this weather. Hope you didn't have any trouble getting here.' Inside you find a wowan with greying, but still auburn hair and clear blue eyes. Her expression is far warmer than your uncle's, although there is an unspoken sadness about her. 'Welcome boys,' she says, kindly. 'I am your aunt, Maria. So nice to see you- why, when last I saw you, you were still todlers!'

She looks around the room- now that your eyes have adjusted to the low light, you find it has everything you'd expect from a typical village farm, and nothing more. A wooden floor covered with straw for warmth, a long wooden table in the center of the room, and a stove next to the entrance. Opposite the door you just came in through is a wall with two smaller doors, and two more doors at the far right of the room.

'Beatrice and Flora are already fast asleep, but they are excited to meet you when the morning comes,' Maria says happily.

Holger looks around, and only now notices that there are more of you than he has nephews. His frown deepens, remaining quiet for a moment before speaking up. 'Are you friends with my nephews? I only have the three extra beds set up, so you kids will have to find some other place to sleep.'

'Come now, Holger dear,' Maria chimes in. She walks over to a cabinet, rummages through it for a moment, then produces a small leather bag from which she takes a small handful of copper shillings. 'They are our family's friends. Here, take this,' she says, offering you the coppers. 'There's an inn at the other side of the village square. That should be enough for you to rent a room for a few nights.'

Griff will grin and take the few coppers. "Greetings uncle! The road wasn't to bad, minus a brief shock at the end. It's good to see you after all these years!"

He jingles the coppers a bit. "Have no fear, we'll shack up in the inn no worries! We figured it might get boring on the road so brought some friends. Not to mention the safety, and Ludwig needed someone to share his theories with!"

Holger watches disapprovingly at his wife as she gives you the coins, but holds his tongue. To you, he says, 'nonsense, Griff. I want you and your brothers to stay in Kaspar's old room- Taal knows the lad won't deign to come back anytime soon. A farmer's day starts at the break of dawn, and I want you to get up when we do- get a feel for the farm life, you know?'

Catching Maria rolling her eyes, he coughs, then points to the table. 'But first, let's sit down. You lads must be hungry, and Maria made some nice and warm stew. I'm sure you have some questions about the town and about what I'm offering you.' Glancing at your friends, he hesitates a moment before reluctantly adding, 'and your friends are welcome to eat with us, too.'

"What, at the funeral?"

Klaus cranes his neck slightly as they pass the graveyard. It was a gruesome story, but also a touch more interesting than he would have expected out of a farming village...assuming the driver wasn't simply spreading tales. He seemed to have a particular distaste for their destination. You never knew, though. The Chaos Moon did strange things. By the time they rattle to a stop, Klaus is far more attentive than he would have expected, nudging some of their less-awake companions in the ribs and sliding loosely to the ground.

His first impression of his uncle does a great deal to dampen those spirits.

"Right, at dawn. Of course, of course..." Klaus clamps down on any hint of disappointment in his tone, trying not to offend his relatives, and glances around. The house is more like what he expected. Solidly build, but dull, dull, dull...still, the offer of stew sways him back, and his stomach rumbles appreciatively.

"Famished, actually. My thanks." He looks around for a place to take a seat. "I take it a farmer's day ends with sunset? It seemed a little quiet out there."

Maybe they're off dancing with the dead.

"Delicious! Thanks auntie!" Griff replies after tasting the stew. He for one was doing his best to ignore this talk about dawn. Although who knows, maybe he'd end up liking it? Dreams spring eternal...

He nods to Klaus' question and looks to see how their uncle answers. "practically dead even." he quips.

Maria answers for her husband. 'Yes, we rise when the rooster does, and sleep when there is no more sun to light the fields we work on,' she says absently, stirring the stew.

No decent folk who stay out after sundown anyway,' Holger adds, 'not unless they have good reason to.' He is about to take a spoonful of stew, then stops mid-air, putting the spoon back down while looking at you sternly. 'I know the young people like to stay up late and party. Your nieces, Beatrice and Flora, sometimes go out to the lake with their friends. And Rhya knows what Kaspar and his burner friends are up to every night.'

Maria looks at her husband, then explains. 'Kaspar is your cousin; our eldest son. He is our village's hunter, and he decided to live at the burner camp just outside town.' Her voice trails off, apparently distraught.

Then Holger chimes in again. 'Them fool boys. They burn wood to make charcoal, and that is a mighty fine thing. But living out there... No doubt, they have relations with that old witch.'

'Holger!' Maria exclaims, and the two exchange a glance.

"Hmmm." Ludwig tugs on his beard, "Again with talk of this 'witch.' She seems to be well known in the town, and yet she remains. Is this because she's tolerated or feared, I wonder...Doesn't the local authority do anything about her? Don't they worry about her 'influencing' the locals?"

Pushing his empty stew bowl away he retrieves his notebook from a pocket and starts jotting down notes.