The consequences of the attack of forest monsters on the village of Olinsford.

While your wounded and bloody body is lying in the snow near the inn building, important events are taking place in the village of Olinsford, which you do not see due to loss of consciousness.

Human militiamans begin to attack forest monsters with renewed vigor, using long-range weapons. From the roof of the inn and from the group of militiamens, who have fortified themselves in a barricaded forge, shooting from bows and crossbows at satyrs and wolves intensifies.

The satyrs and wolves that have occupied many houses in the village are gradually beginning to retreat.

The streets of the village are littered with corpses. Many buildings are damaged.

However, most of the village's population was able to survive due to the fact that timely measures were taken to mobilize the village militia and measures to create fortified barricaded points to protect the civilians population.

Several groups of armed militiamen approach your body. One of the groups is headed by innkeeper Durlen Gruy. He is surrounded by humans in leather armor who hold powerful crossbows in their hands. The second group of militiamens is led by the village blacksmith and peasant Jacob. Jacob is dressed in studded leather armor, and the blacksmith is dressed in strong iron chain mail. Their armor, like their weapons, is bloody (Jacob is armed with a two-handed steel ax, and the blacksmith holds a shield and a one-handed iron war hammer).

All these individuals look at your bloody and **** body and the body of the one who lies next to you...

Next to your body lies the body of a completely naked gray-haired human old man, whose throat looks like a bloody mess. The blade of your ax cut his throat and stuck in a cervical vertebra. Your arrow is stuck in the chest of this dead human old man. Also, this human old man's chest and face are covered in burns.

Durlen Gruy, Jacob and the village blacksmith look at this dead body with expressions of amazement.

Finally, the innkeeper says: “I assumed that... Sigvald died twenty years ago... But, obviously, that was not the case...”

The blacksmith says: “Now it’s partly clear why Meribela helped these monstrous scums. She served those whom her older brother served..."

Jacob spits aside and says, “And that old bitch Meribela would probably like to get from the wicked forest patrons what her bastard big brother got! Look at his decrepit body! This scum would be about 90 years old now! Ordinary people have almost no chance of living that long - but, probably, in the form of a bloodthirsty monster, he would have lived even longer ... "

The Innkeeper examines the dead body of Sigvald and says: “Werewolves... There were two of them... The corpse of the second one is inside the inn...”

The blacksmith asks: “Who was the second werewolf?”

Durlen shrugs, trying to look away: “I don’t know. Some young guy. Probably a resident of some village to the west of the mountains... It doesn’t matter... I consider it necessary to burn both bodies!

Jacob squints suspiciously and asks: "Burn the bodies? For what reason? After all, they are already dead!"

Durlen frowns with displeasure and replies: "This is an obvious necessity! What if the unholy magic that was contained in these bodies could harm the villagers even after the **** of these... creatures? And one more thing: I think that we need to get rid of any evidence... You don’t want warriors and priests to come from the capital of the kingdom who would investigate everything that happened, interrogate every resident of the village and in every possible way... disrupt our usual way of life?"

At the words about a possible investigation into what happened, Jacob’s face twists in a grimace of irritation and... carefully hidden fear.

Jacob nods: “I agree... Our village doesn’t need... all sorts of “investigations”... It’s really better to burn the bodies. And it’s better not to tell any strangers about what happened.”

Durlen says approvingly: “I will give the appropriate orders. We will burn and bury the bodies of these two persons who were werewolves, as well as all the bodies of satyrs. All villagers will be warned not to tell any outsiders anything about what happened. Regarding the dead villagers... for strangers, we will tell versions of accidents, unsuccessful hunting trips in the forest and the like..."

The blacksmith gestures with his hand at your **** body and asks: “What should we do with this guy? After all, he is a stranger! He can tell about the events that happened to someone who shouldn’t know about it!”

Durlen says thoughtfully: “Perhaps... we should renegotiate the terms of the contract with this mercenary? Today, many have already died, nothing will change if there is one more dead... It’s unlikely that anyone will look for him...”

Jacob strongly objects: “Thanks to this guy, our village was able to survive! He organized our militia and helped us fight the monsters! He was able to lead a group of peasants out of the temple building, who otherwise would have simply been killed! He killed those werewolves!"

Durlen says: “That’s all true... But these are past achievements... Is it beneficial for our village now to leave him alive?”

Jacob continues to say, “First of all, we don't know if anyone will be looking for this guy. If we eliminate him, we risk acquiring new enemies for our village. Secondly: we may need the services of this mercenary (or his colleagues) in the future. After all, Meribela was able to escape. And those forces that Sigvald served... These forces did not disappear anywhere... They only retreated temporarily.”

Durlen thinks silently, looking at your body.

Then he says, addressing the group of militiamens who accompany him: “Well. I made a decision. Bandage the mercenary's wounds. I have a supply of potions that speed up the healing of wounds. I'll give you a few of these potions. Take the mercenary’s body inside the inn!”

Four militiamen lift your body and carry it inside the inn building.

You regain consciousness in the same room in the inn where you spent the night when you first came to this village.

Your wounded body lies on the bed.

You are poorly aware of what is happening.

Your vision is cloudy.

Your wounds hurt a lot. You touch your body carefully.

A new attack of sharp pain.

However, you feel that your wounds are bandaged with a clean cloth.

Someone approaches your bed.

Headache. Instead of a face, you see a vague silhouette.

You see how this person’s hand pours some kind of grayish liquid from a small bottle into a clay bowl.

Then the hand offers you this clay bowl.

You are **** to drink this liquid.

You have absolutely no strength to resist.

Bitter taste. Probably a mixture of herbal infusion, **** and... something else.

You are trying to ask what is happening now.

But new attacks of pain do not allow you to utter articulate phrases.

You can only make weak moans.

Ten seconds later you lose consciousness again.