Act I-I: The Village of Mayfield

"No, no I have not," Father Braeburn replies, perplexed. "I am not versed in magicks such as this. It would almost appear that an arcane spell was miscast."
Talyn does not notice anyone acting out of the norm, neither does his familiar. His thoughts would concur with the father's suggestion however.

Lief, under the eyes of Old Peculiar, pulls out the parcel from under the bed gingerly. The aura coming off of it is quite potent, and wreathed in black. As he carefully peels away the wrapping, an athame made of jet black obsidian lies inside. An onyx is set on both sides of the guard and at the pommel. The edges of the blade are jagged and vile looking. Lief feels that to touch the item directly might not be the best for his health.

"No," Peculiar replied, "he only stayed in the common room for a bit to eat and drink, and then came up here. Unless he stole out into the night while all was quiet, which it seems the eel did.

Taking another 10 minutes or so, Leif finds little else of interest in the room. Peculiar suggests that maybe he take a small break at the bar with some free food and drink as the smallest of thanks compared to all that could be given.

Father Braeburn scratched his chin thoughtfully. He nodded, agreeing that it would be wise to check, for he had not yet been back since the early hours. After double checking the more injured folk, he accompanies Talyn and leads him to the church once he was ready.

Talyn examines the perimeter of the church, looking stone by stone. Unfortunately, neither he nor the priest are able to glean anything of use. It seems nothing was left on the doorstep either.
However, the thick wooden door does seem to be open a bit.

As the door creaks open, something moves inside! The interior is currently not lit well, as the only light illuminating the church are the dying rays of a setting evening sun through the windows. Father Braeburn does not see anything move inside, but Talyn only just saw a small pair of blurs in the corner of his vision.
A few pews are crooked and pushed aside towards the door, almost as if they were supposed to be barricades. As the two step inside, a shrill scream emits from the back corner as what sounds like a little girl began to cry in panic. The voice of a young boy tries to calm her, he can see Talyn's silhouette in the doorway and understands that they are not about to attacked by undead farm animals.

"C'mon, Tessie, stop crying! It's not the sheep!"

The two children perk up and run over to the good Father as he enters behind. He pats both of their hands, offering them the comfort that both their parents were still fine and at the tavern if they wanted to run along there. They take no longer than a second to scamper out and down the lane.

"Tessie and Alvin, good, smart children," he mutters, watching them to ensure they are away and safe. "We could check my private quarters and study to see if anything was left there, if you wish."

As Father Braeburn shows Talyn to his quarters and study, the door seems to have been locked, just as the priest left it when he left.
The inside of the room is quaint and moderate in size for the size of the church. An old bookshelf stands directly in front of the entrance, with a bed on the left, and writing desk on the right. Many books line the thick, sturdy shelves. Many are books on the history of nations, various deities, bestiaries, and lo, comedy? Why, there's even a book entitled "Humans & Households: Second edition."
After searching for a few minutes, neither find anything out of the ordinary. Though, both feel something... Strange. Neither Talyn or Braeburn can put a finger to it.