Minutes later, I lay face-down and spread-eagled on the werewolves’ dinner table, struggling to catch my breath. I tried to push myself onto my hands and knees, but Vahanna punched me below the shoulder, and I collapsed. There was no point looking at my health bar—I expected to die in a matter of minutes.

“It’s not fair to slice him into quarters!” Vahanna said. “He’s barely skin and bones, and most of the fat is below the waist. This is a fair cut.”

A claw tore through my armor, straight across my upper thighs.

“Ridiculous!” Berthar cried. “The real meat is in the liver, stomach, and lungs. The cut needs to be here.”

Another claw tore through my armor, this time through my lower back. As I lay bleeding, I thought about the warning I'd received. The mysterious face outside the temple resembled that of one of the statues in the Cathedral of Gods. Theris. The Lady of Purity herself had told me not to come here. Most roguelikes aren’t as compassionate—if you wander into unknown territory without taking precautions, you die.

In my screencast, I constantly warned against hubris, telling listeners that their first reckless decision might be their last. And here I was, about to be devoured by werewolves because I’d ignored divine guidance. I chuckled at my stupidity.

“Are you… laughing?” Palomir heaved me by my neck until my face came even with his. “Is there a joke you’d like to share?”

I wracked my brain, struggling to think of what would probably be my last words. What would enrage these monsters?

“All is not lost, Palomir the Just. If you kneel before the Lady of Mercy, she’ll weep with joy and enfold you in her arms.” I looked deep into Palomir’s yellow eyes. “Even now, after all you’ve done. The same goes for all of you.”

I had no idea if this was true, but as I’d hoped, my words hit the werewolves like a blast of cold water. They transformed into their humanoid selves, and Palomir dropped me onto the table, stepping back as though he’d bit into rancid meat. Vahanna began weeping.

“Do you really think she’d forgive us?” Kolien asked. “After everything—”

“Silence!” Berthar roared. “The fool lies! We've fallen far, far beyond Theris’s mercy. Our allegiance must be to the Lady of Murder, who has given us everything.”

“And yet”—Berthar cuffed the side of my head—“I cannot eat this human. Not now, anyway. We’ve bruised him, but if he still has the wit to utter such… filth, he is not yet broken.”

“How shall we break him?” Palomir asked.

“Give him hope, then take it away.” Berthar transformed into a red-haired werewolf. “We shall have a hunt! We’ll set the human free, and whoever catches him gets to have the entire body for dinner. What do you say, comrades?”

“An excellent idea!” Palomir’s mouth distended into a canine form, and he grew into a black-haired werewolf with white stripes.

“I can taste him already!” Vahanna shouted, becoming a white-haired werewolf.

“I saw him first!” Kolien giggled as she transformed into a blonde werewolf. “And I’ll catch him first!”

⚔

Palomir walked briskly out of the refectory, carrying me by the back of my neck as if I was a cat. The other werewolves followed, laughing and arguing over who would have the honor of tearing my limbs off.

As we left the gallery of hanged figures, Palomir snarled in my ear. “Your life hinges on a single question: swamp or forest? The Baildril has terrible monsters, but its pungent smell may prevent us from finding you. The Western Forest is safer, but we'll have an easier time tracking you.”

He carried me up the flight of stairs and into temple’s entryway. I should have been forming a plan, but I could barely think. The gashes along my back hurt terribly, and it had taken all my presence of mind to grab my pack before Palomir carried me out.

“I’ll count to thirty,” Palomir said. “Then I trust you’ll give us a good chase.”

Palomir hurled me down the steps of the temple as though tossing garbage into a dumpster. I checked my health—only three points left.

“One!”

I got to my feet and staggered down the temple steps. Behind me, the werewolves howled with laughter.

“Two!”

I headed east toward the Baildril, loping at a half-run. I took a Potion of Lesser Healing from my pack.

“Three!”

After drinking the potion, my health rose to 9. The pain abated a little, and as my mind cleared, I struggled to think of a plan. I thought about seeking protection in Nagak-Thurn, but even if the gate guards believed me instead of killing me, it would take them too long to contact Phioren. No, my only hope was Gurnil, whose house stood on the other side of the swamp.

“Four!”

I drank the last of my healing potions, and my health rose to 16. Now my only potion was a Potion of Water Breathing. Could werewolves breathe underwater? I had no idea. As far as I knew, werewolves were invulnerable to everything except silver.

“Five!”

Once I was able to run at a normal speed, I activated my Speed Burst ability and sprinted southeast, leaving Palomir out of earshot. I reached the wide stream and continued running alongside the water line even after my ability had worn off.

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Savage, lupine howls filled the night air. The hunt had begun. If I was going to survive, I couldn’t let the werewolves see or smell me, so I closed my eyes and drank my Potion of Water Breathing. Then I leapt into the stream, taking care not to make a splash.

As I sank, a thought occurred to me—I had no idea how long I’d be able to breathe underwater. If the potion’s effect ran out while I was still under, I’d drown.

As if to answer my question, a timer appeared in the upper left of my field of vision, reading 40:00. This came as a relief—forty minutes of walking wouldn’t get me to Gurnil’s house, but it might get me far enough from the werewolves that I could continue my journey in safety.

Moments later, my feet touched soft, squishy ground. The cold water chilled me, but I marveled at my new ability to breathe underwater. The timer decreased to 39:30, and I headed east, staying close to the edge of the water.

As the timer hit 36:20, something blunt touched my shoulder. I stopped. Was it a shark’s nose? A hydra’s head? A second later, something thin and narrow slithered across my thigh. Was it a snake? An aboleth’s tentacle? We’re all friends here, guys. I mean no harm.

As the timer reached 35:00, the pokes and prods stopped, and I continued walking unmolested. But according to the Global Map, I was still far away from Gurnil’s house. Would Palomir and his friends search for me the entire night? Or would they find someone or something else to hunt?

The timer reached 30:00, and a handful of fish swam between my legs. The water was impossibly cold, and despite my chattering teeth, I forced myself to laugh. I was playing hide-and-seek with werewolves, and I was winning. I pictured Palomir, the great ranger, shouting in frustration. I pictured Kolien’s face without its crazed grin—she’d be furious that her dinner had escaped.

I still received the occasional jab from my underwater friends, but none harmed me. However, my health was dropping due to the cold, and I had no source of healing. According to the Global Map, I was only ten minutes away from the eastern edge of the Baildril. If I didn’t get out of the water soon, I’d end up heading south, away from Gurnil’s house.

As the timer reached 25:50, I climbed out of the stream and raised my head above the water level. Shivering, I pulled myself onto solid ground and scanned my surroundings. Then my blood froze.

Palomir stood less than forty paces away. He’d returned to his elf form, and his smile radiated good cheer.

“Lovely evening for a walk, isn’t it? By Venabel’s fangs, I’ve never seen the moon so bright.”

“H-how d-did you… find me?” I asked, trying to keep the chill out of my voice.

“You didn’t make the slightest effort to hide your footsteps, which stopped abruptly at the stream's edge. I assumed you’d used water-breathing magic, and that you’d head east toward Raven’s Rest. As always, I was correct.”

“I’m nearly d-d-dead,” I said. “Aren’t you ashamed to chase p-prey so much weaker than you?”

Palomir's smile disappeared as he came toward me. “I lost my shame when I started worshipping Venabel. Even if I hadn’t, you’ve upset my plans so badly that I simply must have you for dinner.”

As he said these last words, Palomir transformed into a wolf and sprinted toward me. I ran toward Gurnil’s house as fast as I could, but I couldn’t possibly outrun a werewolf. I took a bolt of fire out of my bandolier, and as soon as I could smell Palomir’s breath—and I was an expert at recognizing wolf breath—I jumped and spun around, uttering a single word:

“Mouth.”

Holding my bolt of fire like a dart, I threw it into Palomir’s open mouth. It exploded in the werewolf’s throat, and he stopped chasing me. Clutching his throat, Palomir coughed smoke and howled.

I reached into my pack and put on the Cursed Ring of Nalkak. As before, its copper surface transformed into the face of a gnoll, and the tiny black eyes glared at me.

“You are not Nalkak!”

Seizing hold of my newfound strength, I punched Palomir under his right eye. He staggered backward, still coughing smoke. I couldn’t seriously wound him, but that wasn’t my goal. I was hoping an old friend would make an appearance.

"Be there,” I whispered. “Please.”

My second punch sent Palomir backward even further, so that he nearly fell into the water. We were close to the place where I’d first entered the Baildril.

“Aboleth!” I cried. "Aboleth!"

As if hearing my summons, the tree-like creature erupted from the swamp’s surface with a terrible shout. The strange, multi-colored eyes fluttered open, but now they focused on Palomir instead of me. Tentacles flew toward the werewolf—one caught his arm while two wrapped around his legs. Obviously, Palomir was no friend of the Baildril.

Palomir shouted as the tentacles pulled him into the water. I cast Remove Curse and caught Nalkak’s ring as it fell from my finger. Then I staggered eastward, out of the swamp. Minutes later, I reached Gurnil’s house and pounded furiously on the door.

“Gurnil, it’s Dylan! Let me in! Please!”

I looked west and saw Palomir approaching, a crazed look in his yellow eyes. He lurched as he walked, as though he’d gone ten rounds in a boxing match.

“Clever, rogue!” Palomir called out. “You’ve outlived everyone I’ve ever hunted, but make no mistake, you will be my dinner!”

He howled and started running toward me.

“Gurnil!” I shouted. “Please!”

A soft POP sounded to my left, and the halfling sorceress floated near my shoulder, an annoyed expression on her face.

“What’s going on? What’s that howling?”

⚔

Palomir stopped when he saw Gurnil. He rose to his full height and bowed, still in werewolf form.

“Good evening, sorceress. I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of making your acquaintance.”

A look of shock crossed Gurnil’s face. “Palomir? What happened? Have you been cursed?”

“Cursed? No, I’ve been liberated from Theris, and now I embrace my new life under Venabel.”

Gurnil stared at the werewolf, her mouth slightly open. Then she shook her head slowly.

“You poor fool. Well, you’re hardly the first. What are you doing on my doorstep?”

“Hunting dinner.”

Gurnil looked at me, then back at Palomir. “You’ll have to hunt elsewhere.”

“Or maybe I’ll have dinner and dessert.”

Palomir charged at the sorceress, who struck him with a bolt of light far larger than the one her golem had hurled at me. The werewolf flew backward, howling. Then he got to his feet, apparently unwounded. He smiled.

“Step aside while you can, sorceress. The Lady of Murder has made me invulnerable.”

“And has she protected you from hexes?”

Before Palomir could respond, Gurnil snapped her fingers. A moment later, the werewolf covered his eyes with his hands and howled.

“What did you—what did you do to me?”

“A simple Blindness spell. Strong as you are, you’re not truly invulnerable. If you leave, you might get to your temple by the time the hex wears off. If you stay, we’ll see what other spells Venabel failed to protect you from.”

Still clutching his eyes, Palomir turned and ran westward. His voice trailed behind him as he said, “I’ll remember this! You haven’t seen the last of me!”

I sat on Gurnil’s doorstep, gasping for air. “Thank you.”

A grave expression formed on the sorceress’s face. “It looks like you’ve had an eventful trip through the Baildril. Tell me everything.”