You go left. This path is closer to the village.

You're thinking, “What if this vast network of underground caves is connected to attacks of beast? For example: from these caves there is an exit to the surface near the village. And the wolf made his lair in one of the caves to make quick attacks on the locals, and then hide in his lair again! I need to check this version."

So you go left.

After ten minutes of travel, you feel a change in the situation.

The air blowing becomes stronger.

It is as if you are gradually rising, taking one step at a time. This branch of the network of underground caves seems to be located closer to the surface.

Suddenly, lighting the way with a torch, you notice something strange ahead in one of the large caves, which is connected to smaller caves.

It looks like... some kind of lifting mechanism and a wooden platform on ropes.

This is weird. After all, the mine spaces have long been left behind. These caves looked like an area where there were no signs of civilization. But now…

You take a step forward.

And you stop.

The characteristic sound of a cocked crossbow. And another similar sound.

A deep voice comes from somewhere behind you: “Not so fast, stranger! We don't like guests here. Turn around. Slowly."

You are following a stranger's order.

Behind you you see three dwarves in leather armor. In the hands of two of them you see crossbows, which are loaded and pointed in your direction.

The third dwarf looks confident (or even cocky) as if he were a commander. He holds in his hands a small hatchet, the blade of which glistens with a grayish steel sheen. It looks like a throwing weapon.

His face, with a chin covered with dark stubble, grins. You see that he has two more of the same small steel hatchets on his belt.

The dwarf spits saliva in your direction.

He says: “Keep in mind that I can throw this hatchet as quickly as these two guys can shoot you with crossbows. Don't do anything stupid. And just stand still. And spread your arms out to the sides. I want to see your hands, stranger"

You say conciliatoryly: “Well... I don’t want problems...”

You spread your arms to the sides and you show that you have no hostile intentions.

A dwarf with a throwing ax says grimly: “Anyone who doesn’t want trouble wouldn’t come here...”

Then he shouts something in a language unknown to you. Sounds like a Southern Grondfargian dialect.

From somewhere out of the dark side passages a skinny man in dirty cloth pants and a leather vest runs out. You notice that he has a sheath with a small sword on his belt. This guy's face makes a rather unpleasant impression: stubble on his cheeks and chin, several scars on his forehead, a head covered with a disorderly mop of dirty blond hair. It looks like this guy's lifestyle is constant fighting.

The dwarf tells this human guy: “Come upstairs. Call the bald one here! Fast!"

Human guy runs to the lifting mechanism. He pulls some levers and then walks onto the platform. The platform begins to rise up and after a minute disappears from view.

You are trying to convince those who hold you at crossbow point to let you go: “Friends, let's calm down! I don't want anything bad! I'm a hunter. I have been hired to track down and kill a beast that is attacking the villagers of Olinsford. Just let me go. We don't need to conflict."

Your speech only brought grins to the faces of the three dwarves.

Crossbows are still aimed directly at your chest.

You mentally calculate the odds: “If I grab my bow now... A quick somersault... And I will dodge the trajectory of one crossbow shot. Dodge the second crossbow bolt? It's difficult... Damn! Also this ax thrower! No... there's little chance. Let's continue talking..."

While you wait and look around, you notice that behind the backs of the unfriendly dwarves there is a passage into the caves, from which muffled noise can be heard. Perhaps something similar to the impacts of pickaxes? There's clearly someone there. Any other opponents?

You again attempt persuasion: “Guys, you don’t understand the seriousness of the situation. I am the village of Olinsford's only hope for salvation! I am the famous hunter Raul the Wolfkiller! I'm not at all interested in what you're doing here. Let's just pretend I wasn't here. And I will move on with my business."

The dwarf with the throwing ax chuckles lightly: “It seems that you will soon realize that it is actually you who do not understand the seriousness of the situation!”

Ten minutes later you hear the noise of the lifting mechanism. The wooden platform lowers down.

When the platform lowers, you see two persons. The first person is the human guy whom the dwarf sent upstairs.

The second person is... Durlen Gruy!

There can be no mistake!

A lanky elderly human man you know. Shaved chin. A lanky, slightly hunched figure. A bald head with small remnants of grayish hair on the sides. The usual clothes of the innkeeper: a camisole, more practical trousers made of durable fabric, boots. But the environment around it is not at all a cozy inn.

You say in bewilderment: “Durlen! There is some kind of misunderstanding going on here! I was exploring an abandoned mine and I found a network of branching and extensive caves. I just want to continue searching for the beast. I don't understand who these dwarves are and why they threaten me with weapons. Tell them you vouch for me. Let them stop wasting my time!”

The innkeeper's face looks calm and even... excessively cold-blooded. It’s as if now, due to practicality, he has put aside his usual mask of ostentatious friendliness and cordiality.

He glanced at you quickly without saying a word.

Durlen then turned to the dwarf with the throwing axe: “This incident is your fault. You should be more careful in masking your exit to the surface. He could have time to do something at the mines. Something that would put supply at risk.”

The dwarf grinds his teeth in irritation and replies: “Unlikely. We keep a close eye on the slaves. I've doubled the security at the warehouse. Security is at the proper level."

Durlen says indifferently: “It will be better for you if this is so. If there are any more unpleasant “incidents”, I will report it to your boss. I'm sure Strangler won't be too lenient with your mistakes..."

You are trying to say something: “What are you talking about? What the fuck!? Just let me go!”

Durlen tells the dwarves, ignoring you: “The contract with this hunter has been terminated. Soon I will find another hunter. There are things much more important than a dozen peasants who were devoured by a wolf. For example: sustainable profits and reliable trade relations. Our product requires "confidentiality". You know what to do."

You shout: “Oh, you scum!”

The sound of a bowstring being released.

Lightning fast movement.

You barely dodged a crossbow bolt that flew over your shoulder, tearing the hem of the fabric of your clothes.

Your hand reaches for your bow.

You grab your bow from your quiver. Just a second and you'll have an arrow on the string!

The second crossbow bolt hits you in the shoulder. Fortunately, the metal of your scale-mail coat survived the hit. The flesh only received a severe bruise, and not a bleeding wound.

Your body is thrown back. You fall onto the cold stone floor of the cave.

You are trying to get up quickly.

A little more and you will have your ****! Your arrows will pierce the throat of this traitor Durlen!

You are consumed by a thirst for ****, but...

When you rise to your feet, everything disappears.

A moment of hellish pain and complete darkness of oblivion.

The steel throwing hatchet flew quickly and pierced right into your face, cutting flesh and bone. The steel of the ax penetrated deeply and became lodged in the middle of the skull bone.

Your lifeless body falls with a crash onto the stone floor of the cave. Instead of your face there is now a disgusting mess of bloody meat and crushed bones.

The innkeeper, walking away towards the lifting mechanism, makes a palm gesture in the direction of your corpse and tells the dwarves: “Remove all garbage as quickly as possible.”