Ronald
**Marmot's Cradle 🌑 The Night**

With the Hanged Raiders inside the building, and the Jarl's men in a defensive shield, the monster stopped it's attacks.

For a moment, it seemed like it'd given up. But then, just as with the disappearences before, it became evident the creature had not sat idle.

Marmot's Cradle became engulfed in darkness as the thing snuffed the fires of the town one by one. And when the clouds obscured the light of the moon, said darkness turned absolute save for the red embers of the charred houses.

The hunter had returned.

It passed by the shield formation, yet instead of attacking the men, it caressed the tip of the spears with rending claws retreating back into the night. It's target wasn't Dagstygg's men... At least not now.

Inside the building there was still light... And nausea. The smell was too pugnent. It made the villagers and Hanged Raiders feel dizzy, but worst of all, it made them distracted.

A pair of rending claws smashed trough the wooden planks of a window, impaling a villager and snatching him outside in an eyeblink. The same thing happened to a couple of Herin's archers standing near the skylight.

Meanwhile, the Vikingr wall found itself under attack: a blunt hit smashed against the shields. Tender meat sank into the lances. It was but a single hit. Was the creature dead? No. Another hit came, stronger, but just as inert as the first one. This time, a foetid smell came out of the flesh pierced by the spears.

Corpses.

The creature was throwing corpses.
Lillian
Herin Farensun
Marmot's Cradle

The smell of death still nauseated Herin, but he tried to clear his mind. Hiding inside had done nothing but delay the inevitable... They were outmatched, this creature was smart, no, not just smart, intelligent. This thing wasn't some savage animal controlled by base emotions like the wolves or the hounds, this thing knew what it was doing. It had a plan, a line of thought. Then it hit him, he knew what to do.

"Men! Form up! Archers in the center, swords and spears in the middle, and townsfolk on the edge! We're heading to the boat!" Herin smiled under his mask, if this worked...
The townsfolk grumbled, some almost refusing to go outside, but the threat of certain death inside made them ignore the possible death outside. 
As they crossed the threshold, Herin yelled to the Vikingr from the center of the formation.
"Dagstygg! Form your shield wall around us! We're heading to our ship!"

Whether the Vikingr warrior listened to him or not, the next steps would be the same. Navigating the town in the dark was hard, but the villagers knew the way to the docks, where Herin's ship waited in the river. If the creature attacked them, it would hopefully take the easy prey on the outside of the formation, instead of the heavily armed raiders at the center. 

Finally reaching the docks, Herin and his men led the Townsfolk up the gangplank, and onto the main deck of the ship. This part was the most dangerous, as the beast could use the masts to attack from above, so Herin had the archers keep their eyes in the sky. 
"Open the hold." He gestured to a few of his men. A large hatch on the center of deck led directly to the hold, which his men pried open.

"Townspeople! Inside the hold we'll be safe, quickly, down the ladder, one at a time!" 
In their panic, the townspeople didn't go one at a time, but they certainly did go down into the hold. Once the last one had crawled into the dimly lit underbelly of the ship, Herin gestured to one of his men.
"Pull up the ladder."

The townspeople didn't notice until they saw the ladder leave them, screaming at Herin, demanding to know what this was about. The hatch still wasn't closed, and the only other door out of the hold was locked from the outside. The people of Marmot's cradle were trapped. 

Herin and his men moved back from the hatch, waiting, watching. His men were terrified, they didn't understand his plan, but Herin remained calm. He looked out into the darkness, and spoke.
"I doubt you can understand me, but I believe you can understand your choices. Me and my men, armed to the teeth, or a hold full of helpless flesh. I offer you a feast, courtesy of the Hanged Raiders."
And so they waited for the beast to take the bait, to snap close the hatch of hold, and capture the most dangerous beast in Northwind.
Ronald
**Marmot's Cradle 🌑 The Night**

"TRAITOR!" Exclaimed the villagers. "Your mourning will be eternal!"

Herin could hear something slithering in the water. Something prowling the boat's hull. Then, one of his men vanished as if he had never been there. The tactic had succeded in getting the Nightstalker near the boat, but the trappers were too close to their bait. The creature kept dealing the Hanged Raiders a death of a thousand cuts, picking it's members one by one.

They needed to step away from the boat if they wanted to convince the creature that the townsfolk were undefended, but doing so would prevent the raiders from closing the hatch... Herin needed to think of a way to spring the trap from a distance, and fast...
Lillian
Herin Farensun
Marmot's Cradle

"Mourn for you? I'd sooner kiss Bradai Maith." Herin sneered. But his confidence was wearing thin, he needed to get away from here, and fast, otherwise the beast would keep attacking his men instead of the townsfolk. So how could one close a hatch from a distance?

"Men, follow me!" He ran towards the hatch, his men following suit, forming a barrier around him. Taking one of the ropes used to tie the boat to the docks, he then tied one end through the ring of the hatch. The noose of the rope he tossed upwards, and catching on the mast. 
Now, the Hatch couldn't close, the rope held it up, only by severing the rope could the hatch fall. 

"Everyone off the ship!" Herin yelled, his men running down the gangplank as fast as they could. Watching from a distance, Herin took a crossbow from one of his men. This was his one chance, a literal shot in the dark. He had to sever the rope with a crossbow bolt as soon as the beast made it's way into the hold. For most men, this would seem impossible.
But Herin had just dueled a two headed wolf, fought a endless tide of fellhounds, and killed an entire town just for a chance to capture a nightmare wrapped in flesh. Impossible meant nothing to him anymore. 
He waited, standing still in the darkness, and then when his moment came, fired, and hoped his aim was true.
Vincent
Dagstygg Jarl
Marmots Cradle

"Your options are clear, mainlanders. You come and make a new life with my colony, or you die. Make your choice. Now... I have a beast to slay." 

Dagstygg Jarl made a strange and startling decision, he donned his helmet and tightened his armor, grabbing a spear from one of his men as they passed by him, and yanking a shield from off of his ship. His armor would be able to put up with the beast's teeth and claws, but the shock of its force may cause injury. He stepped into the open area of the village between the harbour and the houses.

"I advise you go with your men, Herin."
Ronald
**Marmot's Cradle 🌘 The Night**

Both men and their troops stood in silence, awaiting the next attack. It wasn't coming, and the wait was started to become unbearable. Then, the clouds dissipated, and the moonlight fell over the town once more... The creature was revealed.

It was standing tall over the remains of a large house. Two or three times the size of a man, the creature was surprisingly slender, almost disgustingly so. In it's most basic from it ressembled a starved cadaver, hunched and with ghoulish pale skin. Where it became truly monstrous was in it's appendages: it had a pair of hind legs, and two sets of upper limbs, all ending with rending claws. The uppermost ones were the sharpest, while the ones below where shorter and more "Human-like". It's face, or lack thereof, was it's most disturbing feature. The monster had no eyes or nose. Four thin slins above it's mouth were it's olfactory organs. And the mouth was a horror of it's own: distensible and filled with sharp fangs that were neither cracked nor deformed.
So it was that when the moonlight fell over the Nightstalker, it's maw was still drooling with the blood of it's human prey.

The creature screeched into the night. Herin and Dagstygg could sense it: it was meant for them. The creature knew where they were, and it knew the townsfolk were alone. Believing itself out of the warrior's reach, the creature leapt over the mast of the ship, then fell on it's deck.

Herin didn't see it enter the hold, but the sudden shrieks of terror and agony were all he needed to know the Nightstalker had made it inside.
Lillian
Herin Farensun
Marmot's Cradle

This was it, his chance. Herin held the crossbow steady, aimed at the rope that suspended the hatch of the hold.
He didn't bother listening to the Jarl, the man was mad with bloodlust by now, whatever he was saying didn't matter anymore. All that mattered was this one moment, just him against the beast.
He exhaled, and fired.

Through the screams, he heard it, a snap of a rope. It had worked.
"GO! LOCK THE BLOODY HATCH!" Herin roared, his men rushing onboard the ship, literally jumping on top of the hatch to weigh it down, while others locked it with chains and braces. By the time they were finished, it would have taken a direct hit from a trebuchet to open that hatch. 

Herin slumped against the mast, still listening to the whimpers and screams of the people dying below deck. It was over, he had beaten the monster. And now, it was his. 
The only other way in or out of the hold was a small door inside the ship, but that was already wrought iron, and too small for a creature like the Nightstalker to fit through comfortably. Still, he sent men to double check the locks and barricade it, just to make sure. 
Herin laughed, first only to himself, then louder and louder, until his men began to take notice. 
He turned to them, smiling wide under his mask, arms outstretched.
"We won! WE WON! We faced nightmares out of children's tales and we WON! You think Maith or his fools could do this? Not in a million years! We're the Hanged Raiders, conquerors of the night!"

A cheer went up among his men, coated in blood and grime, wounded and tired, they forgot their woes and cheered. They had survived the night of northwind, and that made them feel invincible.
Ronald
**Marmot's Cradle 🌤️ The Dawn**

And so in a lightless place, the sun rose at last.

The light of dawn was palpable on Dagstygg's armour as well as his skin. It reflected over Herin's mask like a mirror, refracting over the ruins it's golden rays. Little remained of the town but ruins and empty houses, the night had left it an empty husk.

Darkness had also taken a toll on the warbands. Of the three longships the Berserkergangr had brought to Marmot's Cradle, one had been scuttled, and yet the surviving men were barely enough to fill the others. As for Herin's forces, while initially spared the brunt of the onslaught, they had then fallen under half strength thanks to the Nightstalker. The creature would now occupy the hold of Herin's ship in place of the fallen.

Despite all of this, both warbands lived, even if the town did not. Standing over the corpse of the Marmot's Cradle, the survivors got to enjoy the privilege of bathing in the light of a brand new day.
Lillian
Herin Farensun
Marmots Cradle

Herin gazed towards the rising sun, it's rays warming his skin. It was over... Or at least the worst of it was. There was still one thing left to do. 
"Men! The former Mayrrif if this place abandoned us, left us to die while he ran off to his bolt hole! How about we pry him out of it?!"
Another cheer from Herin's men, as they followed him through the burning streets to the remains of the Mayrrif's mansion. He gestured for Dagstygg to follow, but he wasn't sure if the Vikingr leader cared at this point.

The door to the Mayrrif's tunnel wasn't something they could break through easily, but Herin knew a few tricks to open these kinds of doors. A door is only as strong as it's hinges, after all, and with the Mayrrif's mansion in literal shambles, it wouldn't be as hard to pry the door off of them. It might take hours, but time was something they had now.
Vincent
Dagstygg Jarl
Marmots Cradle

"I fought to bring this man to death, and the gods demand his blood. Tear down that fucking door!"

Vikingr warriors begin tearing into the edges of the door with their axes to pry it open
Ronald
**Mayrrif's mansion vault**

After a long hour of arduous labor, the door finally cracked. The Mayrrif was long gone. He had not lied about the secret passage. Another iron door, identical to the first one, could be found on the other side of the vault.

What the vulture had not mentionned was the gold. The vault was swelling with the riches. Generations worth of wealth, amassed over the years by means of predatory loans and unfair taxation. The loot that Jarthec had taken from Dagstygg was all there, as was the blood and sweat of many others, pocketed from it's rightful owners in order to quench the Mayrrif's avarice.
Lillian
Herin Farensun
Marmots Cradle

Herin didn't bother to restrain his men, they had earned some relaxation. He simply watched as they charged into the room, filling their hands and pockets with golden trinkets and baubles, letting coins run through their hands. Moral was important, especially after an ordeal such as this. He turned over his shoulder to the Jarl.

"Well, seeing as how me and my men caught the beast, and I'm the only reason we found this loot, I'd normally press for a eighty-twenty split of the loot." Herin said, a friendly hand on the Jarl's shoulder.
"However, seeing as it was my fault the Mayriff got away, and in the name of cementing our newfound alliance, I'll give you a seventy-thirty split, how's that? Sounds more than fair to me." 
Herin patted the larger man, then walked into the vault alongside his men. 

Herin was suddenly very thankful he brought three ships with him. He wouldn't want to store all this gold alongside the nightstalker. 
All this gold the Mayriff had collected, it was a truly spectacular amount. If he had put more of this into the defense of his town, then Herin doubted the Jarl and his people would have gotten very far at all. He almost laughed at the thought of the Mayriff crawling back to the burned-out ruins of his town, only to find that his secret stash of gold had been looted. Marmot's Cradle would be wiped from the map after this, courtesy of Herin Farensun and the Hanged Raiders.