Hark! The church bell chimes in stark resonance at the summit of the hill! The strangely eerie tone emanates with solemnity and poignancy, with the air almost held still by winter frost. The town is on edge. On the hillock, rising in clear and conspicuous view, the church has its place. It stands in elevation, with the sharp geometry of the spire like an antenna to heaven. The silhouetted forest on the mountain crest juts and sways as a backdrop. The Reverend is nervous and is calling the congregation for an emergency meeting. He has the unsettling task of informing them that three cows, two goats and sundry other beasts have been mauled to death, torn asunder in bloody fury. This is the fourth night in a row now and the he has not slept, preoccupied in a fever of prayer and petition to holy forces. It is a vampire and they all know it. They will need to nominate a strongman, a Marshall, a gang leader, to track down and destroy the marauding nosferatu.
