It was sunset when the longboat got him onto the docks at Cotanaku, where a quintet of generic guards were posted with instructions from Garyung to receive him. They weren’t much for conversation, but Kaldalis managed to learn that they’d been sent for his protection, not to arrest him. His amusement at Garyung’s overdramatic message was turning more and more to concern.

As the guards escorted him through town, he was starting to approach genuine fear. The streets weren’t empty, but people moved in sparse groups, and there was a general sense of unease in the air.

Something was up, and the lack of information let his imagination run wild.

There were a few of the council members in the town hall when the guards dropped him off there. Sardol, Gavinkim, and Ikzoz were missing, along with Garyung, but the others - those involved with day-to-day affairs rather than the central command of the town - were busily doing paperwork. Kaldalis was ushered to the meeting room upstairs, where he waited alone.

As evening passed to night with no one else showing up, Kaldalis tried to keep his concerns under control. He wasn’t sure what he wanted more, for Garyung’s note to have included more details, or to have been slightly less alarming.

“Maybe he couldn’t tell me anything,” he muttered, picking nervously at his fingernails, “that’s fine. I could understand that. Security matters, not wanting me to jump to conclusions, whatever. But he could at least have said something a bit more normal. Like, would it have been that much harder to extend a normal fucking invitation?”

It was almost an hour later when Garyung arrived. Ikzoz and Sardol were with him, and the three of them joined Kaldalis at the meeting table. The other council members weren’t joining them, apparently, as Garyung got right to business.

“I didn’t expect you so soon,” Garyung said with an apologetic smile. “Thanks for hurrying.”

Kaldalis shrugged. “You know me. Someone asks for help, I come running.”

Garyung smirked and at least looked a little sheepish. “I thought that would get your attention. Ikzoz wanted to say more in the note, but I knew it would be enough.”

“Enough to get me here,” Kaldalis agreed, but fixed the Bhogad with a scowl. “But not near enough to prepare me for how weird things look. What the everloving fuck is happening here?”

Garyung grimaced, and gestured to Ikzoz. The Talsar cleared his throat, but looked between Garyung and Sardol with uncertainty.

“Anything I know, Kaldalis can know,” Garyung said, gesturing for Ikzoz to speak. “And should know, for that matter.”

“We’re under attack,” Ikzoz said, though there was still hesitance in his tone. “A new sort of monster is sneaking into town, murdering adventurers, and slipping away unseen.”

Kaldalis was on his feet before his brain gave his legs permission to move. “What?”

“Don’t worry,” Garyung said quickly, raising his large hands as if afraid of Kaldalis’s outburst. “Whatever it is, it’s targeting us, not them.” He gestured between himself and Kaldalis. “They’re killing PCs. No NPCs have been harmed. We’re not losing anyone permanently.”

That wasn’t Kaldalis’s primary concern, but it did calm him enough to sit back down. He gestured for Ikzoz to continue.

“When the victims return to us,” Ikzoz continued, dancing around the issue of PC respawning, “they have eerily similar stories. A beautiful woman approaches them when they’re alone, isolates them - either with pretty words or physical strength - and then kills them. Gruesome cannibalism follows.” The Talsar grimaced. “Or precedes.”

Kaldalis’s eyes widened.

He could see where this was going.

“This isn’t just a serial killer,” Garyung clarified quickly. “They’re shapeshifters. Monsters. As soon as the victim is subdued with a paralytic venom, they transform into a monstrous form and tear them limb from limb. I haven’t seen one personally yet, but the description is all the same. Eight arms, eight eyes, snake body, with claws and fangs as vicious as their appetite.”

“What does she look like,” Kaldalis said quickly. “The woman form. What does the woman look like? What is she wearing?”

“It varies,” Ikzoz said, arching the scaled ridge that served as a Talsar’s eyebrow. “We suspect there is more than one of them, but since they are shapeshifters, it’s not impossible that it’s just one.”

Kaldalis’s mind raced. If Ara was terrorizing the town, it was possible that the flash of orange-red robes he’d followed the other day had literally been her.

He wasn’t sure what was more terrifying, the idea that Ara had come back to make good on her revenge, or the idea that there was more than one of her, targeting players.

“You know something,” Garyung said, narrowing his beady eyes. “You have no idea how concerning that is.”

Kaldalis realized he was starting to hyperventilate.

He forced himself to take a deep breath, hold it, and then blow it out slowly.

“Their outfits,” Kaldalis asked. “What do they wear?”

“It varies,” Ikzoz said again. “The first few attacks were wearing colorful robes, but before we could even get the guards searching for people dressed in that way, the next attack was a woman in leather armor. The attack after that the woman was dressed as a guard.”

“Long pants?” Kaldalis asked. “Or skirts?”

Garyung and Ikzoz looked to Sardol, who produced a sheaf of notes, flipping through them.

“The woman in leather armor wore a long skirt,” Sardol said, furrowing his brow with a frown. “And we all know that the guard’s uniform includes long pants to protect the skin from chafing with their greaves and faulds. Other reports are consistent with your guess, as well. Long robes of more widely varied descriptions. Skirts. Dresses.”

“What do you know?” Garyung asked. He fixed Kaldalis with a patient yet concerned look.

“Not much,” Kaldalis said, grimacing. “And too much. They have snake scales on their legs even in human form.” He tried not to get lost in the memory of Ara’s attack. “They’re called Jormongumo. I fought one in the wilderness.”

“Fought is an interesting way to phrase the encounter,” Ikzoz said, leaning forward with interest. “That’s either an unpleasant euphemism, or a lot more than anyone else has accomplished.”

“Actually fought. Not… Not the other thing,” Kaldalis said defensively. “Though I would prefer not to talk about the event in great detail. Balrim and Myrin bailed me out, so Bangen has three sets of notes already.”

The three council members exchanged a look.

Garyung gave the other two a knowing smirk. “I told you,” he said, crossing his arms. “I told you we would want him on our side here.”

“Bangen said the notes would take a very long time,” Kaldalis said, “I don’t think she’s done processing them yet.”

“You’re still miles ahead of what we know,” Garyung said.

“I don’t like this,” Ikzoz snapped, looking over at Sardol.

“It’s not enough,” Sardol said, shaking his head. “What do we want to do, demand everyone wear short pants? We can barely keep this under wraps as it is.”

“I’d rather the Zarans think of me as a deranged dictator with a thigh fetish rather than get wind of what’s happening here,” Garyung barked, slamming a hand to the table.

Kaldalis wasn’t sure what Garyung was talking about, but it didn’t take long for him to put it together. The Jormongumo were targeting PCs. The Zaran’s anti-PC policies and sentiments were trouble enough without the idea that the island itself was generating monsters with the explicit intent of killing them off.

What would they do if they thought their bigotry was justified by acts of nature?

“It’s not enough,” Sardol repeated firmly. “I don’t begrudge you a conversation before we get to the distasteful matter at hand, but we don’t need this runaround. We have a solution to explore, and it isn’t going to involve waiting for Ikzoz’s team to finish with notes that have days - or even weeks - left on the processing.”

“What solution?” Kaldalis asked. He looked to Garyung, but even Ikzoz winced at the question. “Why did you call me here?”

A moment of silence filled the room. Garyung gave Ikzoz and Sardol a pleading look, but they both gestured for him to speak.

“We have a source,” Garyung said at last. He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Someone who claimed to know what they were, where they came from, and how to stop them. But they won’t talk to me. Or anyone else.”

Kaldalis didn’t like where this was going. But it seemed like it was just going to be that kind of night.

“She asked for you specifically,” Sardol said, “by name. She refused to talk to anyone else.”

Kaldalis gritted his teeth. He really didn’t like where this was going.

“We’re kind of over a barrel here,” Garyung said with a heavy sigh. “We need to put an end to these attacks. Not even just to keep word of them from getting to Panbu, but for the victims. They’re…” He grimaced. “They’re not in good shape, emotionally.”

Kaldalis gritted his teeth even harder, trying not to shake his head. Garyung was right. After what Ara had done to him and Dalgaard, he had a moral obligation to spare others that fate.

“Just say it,” Kaldalis snapped. “We can dance around it all night, but that doesn’t change facts. People are getting assaulted and brutalized, and I can stop it. Just say it and get it over with. I’m your Agent Starling. Who’s my Hannibal?”

Garying sighed heavily. “You know who it is.”

Kaldalis indeed knew.

Ikzoz’s flinch had told Kaldalis everything he needed to know. Just the same, though, he crossed his arms and stared Garyung down, silently demanding that he say it.

Garyung’s obstinance only lasted a few seconds before he relented. He shook his head sadly before he said the name Kaldalis knew was coming.

“Onirioago.”