Days later, out in the snowy fields near the small town of Arfall, three hunters lie in the snow. Erevan’s ballista is nearby hidden behind a tree. On his left is Anna wielding a crossbow with silver-tipped bolts. On his right is Cerise with her magical bow resting on the snowbank in front of them.

They watch a game trail down below them. Some wild pigs scurry along the trail. Something large follows them, running on all fours, it leaps and catches a pig. With a howl, the creature rears upwards. Showing its massive fur-covered wolf-like body. A werewolf.

“Wait,” Cerise says right as Erevan launches his ballista.

The bolt goes through the hip of the beast, straight through, pinning the creature to the ground. Cerise grits her teeth disapprovingly as she fires an arrow. The magic arrow sails through the air, almost drilling through the lycan’s shoulder, before exploding. The arm of the beast flies off into the snow as the white landscape is painted red. Anna fires her crossbow, but the shot goes wide.

“Reload like I taught you,” Erevan says as he leaps over the snow ridge.

The werewolf rips the bolt out of his leg, an arrow lands in the snow near him, and explodes knocking him off his balance. Erevan slides down the ridge, his feet start moving underneath him, as he charges the werewolf.

The beast throws the ballista bolt back at Erevan. The hunter rolls under the bolt, pops up in front of the werewolf, putting the barrel of his blunderbuss up to the creature’s chin. He pulls the trigger and silver buckshot bursts through the creature’s skull. Its body falls over limp.

Erevan grabs one of the creature’s legs and drags it back up to the ridge. Sucking in air, he heaves with painful breaths. The last mission was not kind to him. He throws the body on the sled and looks to the others proudly.

“We did it.” Erevan gestures to the two.

“You dumbass.” Cerise huffs before turning and walking away.

“What I do?” Erevan calls out.

“It’s howl was calling its pack. Now that he’s dead the pack will probably enact revenge against Arfall.” Cerise looks over her shoulder at Erevan. “I’m telling the town so they can move to a defensible location.”

“Shit,” Erevan mutters as he follows Cerise.

“I don’t blame you. You were just killing the monster we came for.” Anna says.

“No, it’s my fault. But now I’m going to be counting on you a little more. Remember to steady your breath when you shoot.” Erevan says.

“I know. I tried.” Anna says quietly.

“You were close. Just need some practice.” Erevan remarks.

The three make it to the village. Cerise tells the tavern keeper what has transpired and he sends some of his patrons to round up everyone in the city. The Frost Stop has the most room for people to hide as he has the only basement in town. Erevan sets up his ballista in front of the bar.

“I’m sorry.” A small squeaky voice says.

Erevan turns and sees a ratfolk, almost two feet shorter than him, wielding a crossbow, and wearing some leathers.

“For what reason?” Erevan cocks an eyebrow.

“My friends took gold from you and then tried to fight you. I shot you. I’m sorry.” The ratfolk says.

“No, I was quick to violence as well. What’s your name?” Erevan reloads his ballista.

“They call me Corvo here, it started as Raven-fur, but it got better.” The ratfolk shrugs.

“Well, Corvo, are you staying and fighting?” Erevan looks down at his small crossbow.

“I want to, but I don’t have silver-tipped bolts. Did you just have to reload that ballista by hand?” Corvo looks past Erevan.

“Yeah, reloading it telekinetically takes considerably more time and focus than just slamming a bolt in and pulling back the crank.” Erevan shrugs.

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“I’ll reload it for you.” Corvo pulls himself up on top of the bar.

“Very well,” Erevan says as he pulls a few bolts off the side of the ballista and sets them on the bar.

Erevan turns, seeing Cerise pushing the tables and chairs against the windows while Anna nails them down. Erevan spots a shadow underneath the door. He walks up, slowly, listening to the floorboards creak. A few of the villagers still in the room watch him. They go quiet as they see him approach the door. Cerise and Anna turn to see him stop at the door.

“I can smell you.” A voice growls from the other side of the door.

“If you want everyone in your pack to live, I suggest turning around now,” Erevan warns the werewolf.

“All you left was an arm. You fucking monster.” The voice continues to growl and grow more feral.

“You’re right. I am a monster. A more dangerous one than you.” Erevan says as he pulls the trigger of his blunderbuss pushed against the door.

A slug blast through the center of the door and into the gut of the werewolf. The creature flies back and hits the snow from the force of the impact. Erevan quickly backs up as he reloads another buckshot cartridge.

Furred arms start slamming through the windows, crashing through the furniture, and slashing towards anyone nearby. The villagers still in the room use axes, shovels, and pitchforks to try and repel the invaders. Cerise draws her silvered dagger and stabs at a werewolf arm reaching through a window. The wound sizzles and burns as the werewolf retracts its arm.

A werewolf crashes through the front door of the tavern, instantly a ballista bolt slams into their chest and sends them flying back out into the snow. Corvo starts to reload the ballista. Another werewolf crashes through a window, leaping to its feet, right as Cerise charges them.

The lycan swings its arms, but Cerise slides under the swing and slices through their ankle with her dagger. The werewolf falls over, quickly surrounded by peasants beating the shit out of it, and Anna fires a silvered bolt at it. With it writing around so much she only manages to hit it in the shoulder.

Another werewolf crashes its head through a window, pulling its arms through, trying to crawl into the tavern. Erevan quickly steps towards it. He raises his blunderbuss and fires. Silver buckshot rips through the creature's face as it falls back into the snow howling in pain.

Erevan turns around, stalking back to the center of the tavern, as he reloads his blunderbuss. Two werewolves crash through the front door, one right after the other. Erevan turns his blunderbuss on him and fires at the two werewolves. One of the lycans steps forward taking the brunt of the damage. The other charges and slashes out at Erevan.

The hunter steps backward, the claws shred through his shirt, and blood sprays across the wolf. Erevan falls backward, a hand instinctively wrapping around his midsection, holding his insides in. The wolf pounces on him but with a flick of his hand a ballista bolt slams through the monster’s side. The tavern keeper hops the counter and drags Erevan back.

Cerise draws her bow, turning, muttering an incantation as she fires at the two werewolves in the center of the room. The arrow slams between the shoulder blades of one wolf, explodes, and pops its head off. Anna steps next to her, raises her crossbow at the other werewolf, and mutters the same incantation.

The bolt slams into the side of the werewolf. With a small pop, it ignites the werewolf. The Lycan runs out the door diving into the snow as the fire engulfs them. Cerise looks over at Anna with wide eyes.

“Did you just copy me?” Cerise asks.

“Yeah, sorry,” Anna says as she starts reloading.

The werewolf on the ground slams its arms out, knocking the peasants back. Anna and Cerise step over the creature, saying their incantation as they fire, killing the beast in fire and gore. The remaining werewolves outside howl before leaving the tavern.

The room falls quiet as those inside breathe quiet sighs of relief.

“Erevan?” Anna looks around the tavern.

“Over here!” The tavernkeeper calls out from the other side of the bar.

Cerise runs to the bar and hops over it. She lands with her feet on either side of Erevan. Kneeling down she looks at his shredded midsection. Blood spills out covering the floor planks.

“You fucked up,” Cerise says. “I need you to sit up.”

Erevan grunts as Cerise pulls him up and props him up against the bar. Anna comes around the side, seeing her brother, she gasps.

“It’ll be okay,” Erevan says to Anna.

“I have a poultice and bandages. I can wrap them tight to try and staunch the flow. But you will die from your internal wounds.” Cerise states. “We need to get you to a healer.”

“I know someone nearby. Patch me up.” Erevan says through gritted teeth.

“Alright.” Cerise sets to work on helping Erevan.

“What should I do?” Anna asks.

“Get my cart from around back, and load up all the corpses,” Erevan says as he winces.

Cerise splashes alcohol on his wound before she starts pressing the poultice onto it. Anna nods and turns to leave.

“What's with the corpses?” Cerise asks.

“My dad used to take them apart and study them. The oil they secrete is hydrophobic and insulates rather well.” Erevan says as she starts to wrap the cloth bandages around him tightly.

“You mean that dog stench that comes off of them is caused by something useful?” Cerise asks.

“I thought you hunted them?” Erevan answers with a question.

“Hunt, yes, but study them. I would never lower myself to finding use from monsters.” Cerise ties the bandage off.

“I would.” Erevan pushes himself up onto his feet.