While David was back out into the Hungerwoods, busy running from an irate bear and stumbling upon a spooky ritual site, Niala was crossing off another name from her list.

  Sporting the serious business attire once more, she was finishing up interviewing the more recent victims' acquaintances. The same incongruities she had noticed the day before held today as well.

  She had even managed to confirm that at least a few missing people reports had been reported to the town hall. Following up on these ended with clerks and guards who had logged those reports to display the same vague memories as everyone else, providing guesses and uncertain assurances that the reports had been investigated but had yielded no evidences of foul play.

  Which was, in itself, clearly an evidence of foul play. Unfortunately she still had to find out who or what was playing foul.

  Grabbing a few grilled meat skewers and a slice of fresh bread for lunch, she reviewed her findings so far. Apart from Castello she couldn't find any evident links between the victims. Even Castello only seemed to be linked to what she thought of as the “non-standard” disappearances; those that had left town on a day other than the 37th of Winter.

  She still couldn't determine if these were two separate cases or two aspects of the same event. Hopefully meeting Castello would solve that, or perhaps David would find something that did out in the Hungerwoods.

  I'm sure he's ok, he's a big boy. He has to be ok.

  She shook her head, refocusing on the task at hand.

  Finishing her last bite and disposing of the skewers before rinsing her hands at a nearby public fountain, she headed to the town hall. She'd told David she'd bring guard escort with her when going to meet Castello, and she would.

  A half bell later, followed by two town guards who appeared rather pleased at having landed a low-effort task for their afternoon shift if their banter was any indication, Niala found herself in the older part of Riverwall. The houses here tended to be larger or were built on larger parcels of lands and sported a wider variety of style.

  She guessed these were the homes of the town's founding families, built according to their own cultures before intermixing over the years gave birth to what could be described as the Riverwallian style that the rest of the town exhibited.

  A large, dark-coloured two-stories home with an iron fenced yard was her destination. It was painted in various tones of light and dark greys, with the iron fence topped with various depictions of the moon and its phases. The house looked solidly built but in need of some maintenance, with a few roof tiles out of position and the yard slightly overgrown with weeds and climbing vines.

  The front gate being already opened, and confirming with the guards this didn't constitute an invasion of privacy, she walked up to the heavy wooden greyish door and used the moon-crescent door knocker, waiting patiently for someone to answer her summon.

  Soon, she heard the lock clack open, and the door groaned open on an older gentleman, slightly hunched forward and wearing a dark blue bathrobe and slippers.

  “Yes, hello? Can I help you young lady?” He asked, clear spoken but with slight disinterest.

  “Are you Mr. Castello?” Niala asked.

  “I am. What is this about?” He replied, suspiciously eyeing the two guards a few paces behind Niala.

  “Sir, my name is Niala and I am working for the town hall. If you have some time for me I would like to go over a list of names, see if you knew them and what you could tell me about them.” She explained with a professional smile.

  Castello squinted at the guards, then at her, before grumbling. “Come on in, take your shoes off, I don't want dirt on my rugs. The escort can wait in the foyer.” He said, pointing his chin at the guards, as he turned around and shuffled to what seemed to be a living room.

  They all stepped inside, Niala taking off her shoes as instructed. As she noticed the rugs in question she understood why; they were beautifully woven cotton things, several meters a side, showing various scenes of dances and rituals done under a night's sky. Though still resplendent, they were obviously old if judging by the slight discolorations she could see.

  The rest of the interior decoration was much the same as the outside, with sombre bi-tonal colours, and large heavy wooden furniture featuring various carved statuettes, several looking totemic in nature, along with quite a few leather-bound books, many of them titled in a script she didn't quite recognize.

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Niala felt a sense of familiarity but couldn't put her finger on it.

  She was led to a low well-weathered couch as Castello sat on a high-backed sofa facing her, across a oaken coffee table that could have used some polish.

  “So, what is it you want from me exactly, Ms. Niala?” He asked with the same deliberate pace as before.

  She kept her professional smile up. “Just as I said Mr. Castello. I have a list of names I will read to you. Please let me know if you knew them.”

  He slightly tilted his head before nodding and bidding her to continue.

  Feeling rather like a junior house staff about to waste her lord's time, she started down the list of the 35 disappeared citizens that all seemed to have known or interacted with Castello over the past 30 years.

  After a few names Castello had lifted a brow but had otherwise simply continued nodding. After half the list he had leaned forward, elbows on his knees, head rested on his hands, forehead furrowed. As Niala completed the list, he sombrely nodded.

  “Yes, I think I knew all of these people.” He finally said.

  Niala waited for an explanation that didn't come. “... and under which capacity, if I may?” She inquired.

  Castello sighed and laid back on his sofa. “They were my Panjo partners, and sore losers all of them.” He said with a sneer.

  “Panjo...?” She asked.

  “Yes, Panjo. A formidable game of wits and strategies, passed down from my great-great grandmother.” He explained with the first real sign of interest.

  “I have been fruitlessly trying to popularize the game for the past 30 years, but every time I thought I'd found a new partner they always end up forfeiting and leaving the table in a rush, ignoring any further messages and even going as far as having their friends and family claim they'd disappeared, evidently so they didn't have to face me in shame.” He said.

  Niala blinked a few times, ears frozen at half-mast, disbelieving what she'd just heard.

  “They... your Panjo partners over the past 30 years walked out of a Panjo game? All of them? Did they do so in the middle of the night?” She eventually asked.

  “Why yes. Although you can play Panjo at any time, it is best played at night if you have a traditional enchanted Panjo deck, as I do. Their imagery come alive after sundown and display the most intricate of animations as the game progresses. It would be a great shame to own such a deck and not witness its craftsmanship in full.” He enthusiastically explained, before slightly leaning in her direction.

  “Would you like to see my Panjo deck?” He asked expectantly.

  Niala, slightly taken aback, glanced to the guards still in the foyer, then back to Castello.

  “...I think I would, if it's not too much of a bother?” She hesitantly offered.

  “Nonsense! It is no bother at all! Why, peering upon my deck's exquisite art might even entice you to give Panjo a try!” He exclaimed happily as he rose with more energy than she thought possible from the man.

  “Come come, my game table is in the basement.” He said, motioning for her to follow. When he saw her hesitate, he frowned and looked at the guards, then back to her.

  “I suppose you can have your escort follow. Make sure they take off their boots.” He relented before making his way to the stairs leading down.

  They soon all filled down the stairwell and into a rather large and well-lit salon, once again decorated with many dark and moon-themed decorations, including many tapestries.

  “I couldn't help but notice the recurring moon theme in your home. Do these come from a particular interest?” Niala asked as they followed Castello.

  “Hmm ? Oh, no no. These are from my forebear's time. I am not so enthralled by moon stuff as they were, but you have to admit the craftsmanship is interesting.” He offhandedly explained as they arrived at a simple darkwood table with a light blue felt top. On it resided a small leather box and a ghastly volcanic glass bowl, lined with skulls facing outward along its rim, and depictions of grasping hands engraved with silver on the inside, all reaching for a single full moon at the bottom. Its outside was heavily decorated with rows of script going top to bottom.

  Castello opened the small box, pulling out two stacks of fine wooden plates roughly shaped like playing cards, each painted with what was indeed intricate pieces of art, depicting various figures and mythical creatures. There was also a partition in the box filled with black and white glass tokens.

  The man proudly displayed his Panjo deck to Niala and the guards. He then proceeded to explain the rules of the game, it being a two-player game where each person built an offensive and defensive line and tried to attack and defend in turn, with the goal being to defeat an opponent's entire defensive line.

  While the game itself did appear interesting, if maybe slightly complex, Niala's gaze kept being dragged back to the bowl, that feeling of familiarity nibbling at the back of her mind.

  Castello finished his exposition, putting away the playing plates and not-so-subtly offering an invitation to a friendly game of nighttime Panjo to all present.

  “Mr. Castello, thank you for your explanation of Panjo, it all sounds quite entertaining. However, I find myself intrigued by that bowl.” Niala offered, pointing at the ghastly bowl sitting on the game table. “Is there anything you could offer about it?”

  “Oh, that old thing? It's my snack bowl.” He dismissively explained. “I put snacks in it when we play Panjo. It was in my great great grandmother's personal trunk. Instead of having it wasting away in there I thought it would add to the aesthetics of a good night time Panjo game, with its blend of artistry and grisliness. It's also a great conversation opener.” He said with a smile.

  “... I see.” Niala offered, slowly dipping her head. “And you say that this is the table from which those 35 individuals rose and left? During a game of Panjo, at night?” She asked.

  “Yes, from this very table, and with the finest snacks and refreshments I could offer.” His face crunched up. “Even if you wanted to forfeit and leave, the least they could do was thank me for the offerings. Instead they always simply said they had to go and how important it was that they left. The ingrates.” He scowled.

  Niala forced a respectful smile back on her face. “Well, thank you very much for your time Mr. Castello. We will be taking our leaves now.”

  Castello nodded and escorted them back to the foyer, once again letting it known that there was an open invitation for anyone interested in a friendly game of Panjo, before seeing them off.

  As Niala walked along the stone path out of the yard and through the iron gate, she glanced back at the house.

  It suddenly appeared much more menacing.