Maverick-Werewolf

Rain. A slow, steady drizzle and a fine mist clouded their path. The road to Pikeston was a long one, a wide but winding dirt trail passing in and out of hamlets full of quaint homes. Each one, Gwen imagined she could live there, quaint as they were with their thatched roofs and buckets under the windows that ordinarily held colorful flowers. But in the growing cold, everything looked grey and lifeless. Winter steadily crept over the landscape, though it hadn’t yet turned the rain to snow. Still, a chill in the air and her own self-consciousness had Gwen pull the neck of her blue cloak higher, taking a deep breath of the moist dirt and fresh rain. A less pleasant scent than the petrichor of warm rain, like the smell that always seemed to cling to her partner, but it wasn’t unpleasant. Said partner who rode alongside her on his large brown horse now gave her a quick look. She, orphan Gwenevere Vergil, had never imagined becoming a Venator: a member of the Empire’s dedicated monster

Rain. Again. Caiden tugged the dark blue hood a little farther up on his head, listening to the raindrops pitter-patter off the leaves of the woods surrounding the road. A plain dirt road, so well-packed from years of steady travel that it barely even threatened to turn to mud. Down this path was a little town called Deepwell. Just a dot on most maps, if that. Plenty of cartographers overlooked it in favor of more important landmarks – larger cities like Kyjovia to the north or the hill dwarf territory barely to the south. No one much cared to pay attention to Deepwell sitting precariously in the foothills, stranded in all but the middle of nowhere. Maybe for that reason, the town was now having trouble not often found in the Empire: people were being killed in the night, ripped apart in their homes or maybe dragged off. Hadn’t taken them long to panic, suspect monsters, and summon the Venatori for help, sending a messenger raving about bloodstains and tooth marks. Deepwell was a

Sir Tom, When you asked me what it was like to join the Venatori, I didn’t know what to say. It’s a very long story. The order itself is ancient. No one even knows its real origins or the history of why the Achaeans needed an order dedicated to monster hunting. Monsters must have been a lot more common in the past. I guess especially those that are sensitive to silver, which isn’t all of them. Did you know that? There are so many different ways to fight different kinds of monsters. The bestiary from Illikon should help me learn more about that. Joining the Venatori intimidated me. Or Venators, as a lot of people call them, although I’ve been told that’s technically improper. Anyway, every Venator has to undergo a lot of training and be taught extensively about potions and different kinds of metals and materials for weapons. We even get some runestones. I always thought magic was just a story. We didn’t just train. We had to get our bodies used to potions. Most all potions either