Well Ol' Crochet's holed himself up in his house, the younguns and the missus stay outside most of the time, as he's not been in the best of moods. From what we hear he's in there with the guitar trying to figure what's what, maybe teaching himself, but not getting rewarded as more punished. He did come outside a few days ago though, scared the daylights out of us.
He was much more pale then he used to be, his face resembled that of a ghost, although I'd never seen one before, so don't hold me to that. His hands were bony and white-knuckled, probably from holding that guitar all day. He never said word to anybody, and if he walked in a room he could suck the smiles and happiness right out of you, like the room darkened.
But things haven't been the same at all since that man with a guitar came through, so we were none too surprised when we noticed Crochet's change. The other day I heard Mrs. Heircrest talking to a guy in the tavern, saying some nonsense about an evil spirit in the guita