After a week basking in the friendly and not overtly pious atmosphere of the Broken Wagon, Hood felt much better. She didn’t exactly feel well, but then again she hadn’t felt entirely well for so long she barely remembered what it was like. Still, she had a warm fire to sit by and a cool, strong ale in her hand, so at the moment she at the very least felt content. Signaling the bartender to hand her another drink, she sat back and listened to the buzz of conversation. Roadside inns were great places to get information, because there were always people visiting from all over the place and drunken men gossip like old ladies. Most of it was about their work, or about the condition of the roads, or a million other everyday things that were of little concern to her. But every so often you picked up on something interesting. Like right now, she thought as she overheard the word “demon” and got up to talk to the man who had spoken. “Excuse me.” She said as she sat down across from the heavyset man. “Could you repeat that?” “Oh, the bit about the demon? Yeah, there’s a town about six days ride south of here that has been having trouble with one. Bit of a sly fellow, killing people in the night when they’re alone and suchlike.” “What’s the name of the town?” Hood was worried, though she didn’t let it show. A demon who took his time to spread terror in a town rather than just destroying it outright was either very clever, very cautious, or old enough to get bored with mere killing. None of the three boded well for anyone involved. “It’s called Bergwaldsbach. Oh, but I’m sure they’ve got it all wrapped up by now. When I was leaving, I heard someone say a hunter had arrived in town. Young lad, they said, but apparently he’d killed some demons already.” “I see. Thank you for telling me, but I really must be going.” Hood quickly pushed her way through the crowded common room and ran upstairs to her room, packing her things as fast as she could. Whoever the young hunter was, chances were he was way out of his league on this one. She doubted she’d get there in time to save him, but she had to at least try. Rushing outside, she loaded her things on Lumpy, untied him, and took his lead. “Sorry friend, I know you don’t like hurrying, but this time we have to be quick.” With that, she set out on the southern road. On the fourth day of her journey, she could smell it. The scent of a greyback. It was an old scent, but still fairly strong, indicating it was left by a very big wolf indeed. That was bad enough, but the fact that the scent seemed to follow the road was even more worrying. Demons usually preferred the wilderness, and for one to follow the road so closely could only mean it had good reason to do so. Keeping up the pace, she made sure to keep an eye on the ground near the road. She noticed the occasional broken branch or flattened shrub that suggested something big had passed by here in a hurry, but there was no telling just how big. It took almost half an hour to find what she had been looking for. A paw print, pressed into the mud of a riverbank. Getting off the road to study it, she realized just how bad things were. She went back up to the road were Lumpy stood waiting patiently and took her weapons and some basic provisions from the pack he carried, then she patted the horse fondly on the nose. “Sorry, Lumpy, but I’m going to have to run. Catch up in your own time, you hear?” The horse replied with a somewhat put-upon whinny. She knew he’d find his way back to her eventually. He always did. With that, she took off running down the road, leaving behind a slightly miffed horse and a paw print the size of a dinner plate. She arrived in Bergwaldsbach two day later, her legs burning and her breath coming in ragged gasps. She found a bench to rest her legs for a moment and refreshed herself with what little water she had left before seeking out the local magistrate. On her way through the street, she noticed that no-one was walking alone, only in groups of two or more. This didn’t exactly fill her with confidence. She finally found the magistrate’s office in a large building that seemed to double as a community hall and, if the smell was anything to go by, beet storage. The magistrate was a rather fat man with a haggard look about him that suggested he had recently lost some, though not nearly all, of his superfluous stuffing to stress and overwork. He gave her a curt nod as she entered, but his expression turned to one of relief when she showed him her badge. “Oh, another demon hunter! Thank the gods! I was hoping the other one would sort this mess out, but we haven’t seen him since the day he arrived. And people are still disappearing every night.” “Could you describe the last hunter to me?” “Oh, he was a strapping young lad, although not nearly as young as you, I must say.” “I’m a lot older than I look.” “Yes, I suspect you might be. You look like you have your wits about you. Not like the other fellow, he seemed pretty green. But apparently he had killed a pair of the demons already. Showed me the bounty chits and everything.” “A pair of demons? Specifically a pair?” That struck a chord with Hood, but she hoped it was just a coincidence. “Oh, yes. A mother and her cub, apparently. The way I saw it, a man who can take down a mother demon should be able to take care of our troubles. More fool me, I suppose.” “Did you catch his name, by any chance?” She was pretty certain she knew already, but once more she hoped she was wrong. Unfortunately, she was rarely mistaken. “Yes, he did mention his name. It was… Let me think… Ah, yes! His name was Ulrik Berg.”