Death of the Silversmith
Steering clear of the fumes and silver dust of the workshop itself, the curled figures lie in wait in the alleyway opposite, waiting for Spikebrennan to extinguish his candles and leave for the night. As he turns to lock the old wooden doors, a whirl of teeth and claws blur out across the open street, performing the quickest of kills before the metal’s influence can affect them.
Spikebrennan the silversmith is dead.
Chivalrybean:
This will certianly make aaronwinborn suspect… after the bold accusations against him by the deceased.