Eternal Rest

Over the course of the journey to their destination, the group was ambushed at intervals, roughly every other hour. Bones initially didn’t plan to participate in combat, not wanting to reveal the extent of his skills. However, he was forced to act by the third ambush. Using bone spells, he made an effort to be quick and precise, rather than flashy and drawing attention. Fast-moving targets were a challenge to hit, so Bones aimed where they would be instead of where they were. He killed one werewolf alone and helped his golems kill two more, but wasn’t satisfied with his party’s performance.

The werewolves had robust bodies, dense fur, and proved resilient against conventional weapons. It took considerable effort to bring one down. Bones paid more attention to how others in his group fought, wanting to see how they fared against such opponents. What Bones realized while watching was that he had overlooked one important aspect: werewolves, like vampires, were weak to silver weapons. The sun weakened them, but there was something about silver that impacted their healing factor and caused them to bleed profusely from wounds. Bones had read this bit of information back in the library in Draycott but had forgotten it in the heat of the moment. He made a mental note to look for silver weapons once they reached town.

After what felt like an eternity, the trees began to thin, and the outline of Wolford appeared on the horizon. The sight of the fortified town brought a collective sigh of relief from the adventurers. The leader urged them to keep moving, and soon they were crossing the town’s threshold, the gates closing behind them with a resounding thud. The safety of Wolford was a stark contrast to the treacherous forest they had just traversed.

The leader led his group towards the town hall, where the other two groups awaited. Upon arrival, the other two leaders approached and solemnly shook their heads, seeing the state of the survivors. The third group had been hit the hardest. While the first two groups suffered a few casualties, the third group was reduced to half.

“Don’t be too disheartened,” one of the leaders addressed the crowd. “Unfortunately, there have always been casualties in this part of the journey…” The man gazed over the third group before continuing, “but such is the adventurer's life. The journey here was a trial, a test of your capabilities, and you have made it this far! I wish you all a happy hunt and may luck follow you on your travels.” He finished, and the leader of the third group stepped up to instruct.

“You may address me as Marcel. Party leaders, follow me inside, and make sure you have your expedition registration forms with you.”

Dozens of adventurers followed Marcel into the town hall. Inside, in one of the offices the party leaders were required to show their registration forms and cross out the names of any party members who had died on the way to Wolford. Once the processing was completed and the number of survivors confirmed, Marcel gave a brief overview of what was expected of everyone in the expedition.

“Now that we’ve confirmed the numbers, here’s what you need to know,” Marcel began. “Wolford is our staging ground. You’ll find resources, lodging, and information here. The townsfolk are our allies, and it’s essential we maintain a good relationship with them. Respect their customs and contribute to the town's defenses if needed.”

Marcel pointed to a large map on the wall. “This map shows the surrounding areas and known locations of vampire nests and monster habitats. The guilds and the town council have posted contracts on the notice boards around town. You’re free to choose your targets, but remember that cooperation is key. Solo adventurers have a higher risk of falling prey to the dangers out there.”

Rules against in-fighting between parties were strictly enforced, with special emphasis on avoiding conflicts between major guilds, although enforcing such rules in the wild was nearly impossible. Party leaders were required to update the status of their groups every two months at the latest, a responsibility Marcel stressed. He cautioned adventurers to carefully consider their contracts, warning against overestimating their capabilities, especially after the sobering encounter with werewolves.

Marcel then introduced the man responsible for recording the contracts with the town hall, a formidable figure in his sixties. Standing almost two meters tall with a burly build, white mutton chops, and disheveled hair, Gauss exuded a casual, almost bored demeanor. Despite this, his sharp, slanted eyes conveyed a predatory intensity as he surveyed the room.

Marcel paused, letting the information sink in. “Lastly, if you encounter anything unexpected or too dangerous, report back immediately. We’re here to reclaim these lands, but we can’t do that if we’re reckless. Work together, stay sharp, and good luck out there.”

Bones listened intently, noting the locations on the map and the contracts mentioned. The atmosphere inside the town hall was tense but focused. The adventurers knew the real challenges lay ahead, and preparation was crucial.

After the briefing, Bones exited the town hall and joined his golems. The town of Wolford was bustling with activity, a mix of adventurers and werewolf citizens going about their business. Bones headed straight to the blacksmith, intent on acquiring silver weapons. The shopkeeper, a well built werewolf with a scarred face, greeted him with a nod.

“What can I get for you, adventurer?” the blacksmith asked.

Bones observed the blacksmith carefully. Had he not known that most of the town's inhabitants were werewolves, he might have mistaken the man for human. The telltale signs were the excessive hairiness and the peculiar gleam in the eyes. Setting aside these observations, Bones paused before responding, lost in contemplation. His visit had been impulsive, driven by a sudden urge to shop. Yet, now that he was here, he questioned his penchant for spending. Recently, he had invested significantly in new equipment, only to find himself in need of additional weapons. This time, however, it was a necessity; he required silver weapons to effectively combat both vampires and werewolves.

“I need silver-tipped arrows, a spear, and a greatsword; greataxe is fine too,” Bones replied, placing a pouch of coins on the counter.

The blacksmith inspected the coins and nodded, gathering the requested items. “Good choice. Silver’s the best way to deal with the creatures out there,” he said, handing over the weapons. Bones eyed the weapons, his strength barely supporting their weight. The weapons were simple in design, but the blacksmith vouched for their sharpness and durability. With a satisfied nod, Bones left, feeling hundreds of gold coins lighter.

The next course of action was to inspect the contracts posted on boards around town and see what the town of Wolford had to offer. Like many other towns, Wolford was no exception when it came to the number of inns and shops. There were plenty of both, at least one on each corner, but the main attraction was the colosseum, where adventurers displayed their battle prowess against other adventurers and captured monsters. Besides offering fame and recognition, the arena provided opportunities for many to be recruited by major guilds. The colosseum was also crucial to the town, as the profits funded expeditions and enabled the continuous hiring of adventurers.

Bones bought an entry ticket and found himself a remote seat in the back. After watching the intense battles, he summoned a small stack of research papers. These were Hugo’s papers he had previously set aside, revolving around the Kingdom of Everlasting Dusk, which he planned to read upon reaching Wolford. Despite the loud atmosphere, Bones remained focused, immersed in the content of the research. Hugo was meticulous in keeping notes, and an intriguing entry caught Bones’ hollow eyes. It contained clues about the original facility where humans had recreated the elves' research to create a new species: vampires. Limited by resources and time, Hugo had failed to pinpoint the exact location of the facility, but the clues pointed to a remote area deep in the inner region.

Without a particular goal for his next move, Bones set finding the facility as his main objective, estimating it would take over a month to reach his destination. After the colosseum, he strolled through town, looking at the contract boards. The contracts varied from simple tasks like picking medicinal herbs to hunting exotic creatures like griffins, alongside numerous vampire subjugation contracts. Bones picked contracts appropriate to his level and headed to the town hall to register them with Gauss, a werewolf responsible for recording the contracts.

Gauss was a veteran soldier with an abundance of combat experience dealing with vampires and their spawn. However, his sharp eyes betrayed a look of surprise when he saw Bones entering his office with contracts in hand, ready to register. Bones didn’t particularly stand out among the adventurers. Many wore hoods covering their heads, and even if Bones’ head was revealed, he didn’t look like a typical undead. He would be mistaken for a malnourished old man before being recognized as an undead, but Gauss’ sense of smell was anything but normal.

Standing up from his seat, Gauss began a slow transformation before Bones, who was left monumentally stunned. Gauss’ body grew larger, his bulging biceps almost tearing his shirt, and his face transformed into that of a wolf, with a strong jaw and a long, blunt muzzle.

“Choose your next words carefully, adventurer,” Gauss growled. “Why do you carry the scent of death around you?”

Bones immediately snapped out of his trance and commanded his golems to be on standby just outside the doors, ready to barge in if instructed. In a confident manner, Bones replied that he was an undead but also a registered adventurer from the Wezar Kingdom. Then, he swiftly procured his old adventurer's ID and provided proof that he was indeed a legitimate adventurer.

Gauss hesitated momentarily before ordering Bones not to move. He grabbed the ID card and scrutinized it. Moments later, he harrumphed, canceling the transformation and muttering, “I’ll be damned. The ID is real! Just what were they thinking registering an undead… you know what? I don’t want to know.”

He handed the ID back to Bones, who felt relief wash over him. Bones had gambled by presenting his old ID, trusting that Gauss wouldn’t bother checking the validity of his ID card against the Adventurer's Guild records. He wasn’t even sure if they had the records here, as the nearest proper Adventurer’s Guild was in Draycott. Regardless, Gauss took the contracts from Bones and reviewed them one by one.

One of the contracts Bones took involved the subjugation of wolfmen in Duskwood, a dark forest not far from Wolford. Wolfmen were lesser werewolves, below the second tier, yet to evolve. Their levels ranged between thirty and fifty, and they resembled their evolved counterparts, full-fledged werewolves, but smaller in size and with lower physical attributes. Other contracts involved hunting werewolves, exterminating vampire spawn that plagued towns, and hunting second-tier vampires.

Gauss paused on the werewolf contract, hesitating. “Lycantropes are different from us, the shape-changing humans you see in town,” he said, drawing Bones’ attention. “They are descendants of the original werewolves; physically stronger, with insatiable bloodthirst and without the ability to change shape. Are you sure you’re up for the task? Despite being an undead, your level is a bit too low for this.”

Bones took a moment to ponder before replying that he was willing to give the contract a try, only engaging targets in the early fifties level range. Gauss paused before nodding and adding that if it were anyone else, he wouldn’t validate them the contract. Continuing, he confirmed every other contract Bones took except for two, which he singled out and placed to the side. He explained that while the werewolves would pose a challenge, the contracts he put aside were too much for Bones’ current level. These two contracts targeted second-tier vampires in the sixty and seventy level range. Bones hadn’t thought much of it when he took those particular contracts. He knew both targets were in a completely different league but was confident he could at least escape if the situation turned dire.