The moors dropped below, and they could see that Solskinn was nestled in an idyllic valley -
possibly the most pleasant looking places they had yet encountered in the Southmoor.
It’s inhabitant were quietly curious, and as they pulled up at the inn thye made their way inside. The barkeep looked up.
“Strangers” he commented, matter of factly. “Ye’ll all be staying in the in tonight. The ddor will be locked shut at sundown, and won’t be opened till dawn.”
“Izzat so, Big Yin?” said Ungo. “An’ whut if ah wannee go oot?” The man looked solemnly at him as if he were a child, or an idiot.
“Then you will die” he replied. "Know this- Solskinn is under a curse. When the sun sets, strange noises and frightening shrieks drift into town, and within an hour of sunfall,
the streets become plagued by strange shadows and dim shapes. Anyone who remains on the streets after dark vanishes without a trace, but those who remain indoors until dawn are never molested. "
“Livestock or pets are never harmed, nor are buildings damaged nor tools and equipment stolen. King Eightfingers has sent a few patrols to Solskinn in token attempts to help the town, but after the third patrol vanished, the king has all but given up.”“You’ll all be staying in the inn tonight.”
“Aye. I reckon you’re right” said Ungo.