You are used to acting boldly and decisively. The hunt begins tonight.

You were sitting at an old small beech table near the stairs. You have been busy eating for some time. Wine, beef jerky, oatmeal and some vegetables. The innkeeper Durlen Gruy served you obsequiously. Several young maids helped him.

In response to your attempt to pay for food and drinks, he only uttered a lot of quick objections: “Free food and wine are just change, which I will gladly provide to you, dear hunter! I will not take money from you for food, drinks or for staying in my inn! After all, you are the only one who can eliminate the threat to the villagers! While you prepare to destroy this vile wolf, I will gladly try to make your stay at the hotel as comfortable as possible!”

You decided not to insist.

When the meal was completely finished, you began to ask Durlen about the essence of the problem in this village. You needed details.

The lanky elderly human man who was the mayor of this small mountain village (perhaps for such a small settlement a more adequate term would be “headman of village”) could not contain a grimace of irritation at your questions about this strong and cruel beast that terrified the inhabitants villages.

Durlen scratched his shaved chin, his lanky, slightly hunched figure leaning over your desk.

He winced as if from a toothache and said: “I confess to you, I do not believe in the superstitious inventions of many of my fellow villagers. All these scary stories about invulnerability, about demonic strength, about cursed unholy witchcraft - I think that all this is just the consequences of the vile wolf being too strong and smart. This disgusting bloodthirsty beast has killed too many. Therefore, some persons simply lost heart and exaggerated our problems out of fear. But this beast is just an ordinary animal, albeit a strong one. I'm sure you will be able to kill this wolf! After all, you are a real professional mercenary! You are much stronger and more experienced than ordinary village hunters, who, unfortunately, failed.”

Durlen's words were loud enough. Therefore, from the side of the table near the far wall, one of the villagers (some strongly built middle-aged man with short-cropped reddish hair, a small beard, a hooked nose and a voice as if after a hangover) shouted in your direction: “You only think about how to get more profit. Baldheaded asshole! The main thing for you is that merchants are not afraid to come to the village! Shove your doubts up your ass! You can try to please this mercenary all you want, but it won't change the fact that our problem is not a "ordinary" animal! You stupid shit eater! Because of your arrogance, Rolf died! But he was a good hunter, no matter what nasty things you say about him now!”

Durlen Gruy blushed slightly at these words. He was probably a little offended by this guy's insults. The innkeeper's head was indeed bald. There was only a little light brown and gray hair left on his head.

Durlen shouted towards several large peasants with spears and axes in their hands, who stood near the entrance to the inn (probably these were local militia): “Guys, get Jacob out of the premises! This drunken fool only spreads despondency and is only capable of swearing! Take him home! Let him get some sleep and sober up."

The militia take that angry guy out into the street. They barely managed to avoid a fight: the angry guy tried to wave his fists. But the militias enjoy a numerical advantage. They wring the hands of the troublemaker and take him out of the inn onto the street.

Your conversation with the village mayor continues. You ask about the area, appearance and habits of the animal you are about to kill.

The mayor replies: “The wolf is cunning and strong. He was seen in various places in the village area. But the most frequent attacks were in the area of Old Ditmar's Gorge (this place is named after my great-grandfather, who was a skilled healer). This place is located east of the village. You can get there in a couple of hours. People go to this gorge because there is a small stream flowing there, along the banks of which rare grasses grow. Some residents of our village use these herbs to prepare healing solutions. Until recently, it was possible to hunt mountain goats there that came to drink. Regarding the appearance of the wolf: a couple of villagers saw it. Not very detailed, but we can tell you some information. The wolf is large: approximately one and a half meters in height and two meters in length. He has completely white fur, without the slightest trace of gray fur (most wolves in our area have gray fur to one degree or another). The wolf’s habits are extremely aggressive: he quickly and unexpectedly attacks anyone he sees.”

You listen to Durlen's words.

After that, you get up and check your armor and weapons.

Then you head to the inn exit.

Your determination discourages a dozen local residents who have gathered at the inn. Even Durlen is surprised.

The hotel owner asks in bewilderment: “Have you decided not to postpone the hunt until tomorrow? I could suggest you rest after traveling along the mountain paths..."

You smile with a feeling of superiority and answer: “I prefer to act quickly! I killed the troll. Some big wolf won’t be a problem for me!”

Almost at the very entrance you see some frightened peasant woman in an old, worn-out dress. She appears to be about 30 years old. She holds out her trembling hands to you. In her hands is some kind of primitive amulet on a simple small rope. Some sort of wooden sun symbol with agate inlay. You see tears in her eyes.

The peasant woman says in a plaintive voice: “Noble sir... Please take the amulet... This damned demonic monster... It tore my son’s body into pieces... Ordinary weapons are powerless...”

Obviously, this is an ordinary uneducated peasant woman. She addresses you as a representative of the noble class. Although it is obvious that you are not a nobleman.

You smile indulgently and ignore this primitive amulet. You don't need superstitions. You rely on your experience, your strength, and your skills as a tracker.

You leave the inn. Soon you leave the village.

You are walking in an easterly direction through mountainous snowy terrain. Your goal is the Old Ditmar's Gorge.

After a couple of hours you reach this place.