Merril's body fell from the vine, blood still pouring out of his open mouth. The hair subsided and the size of the creature wilted down to reveal a small elf. Fox recognized the elf. He had sequestered Blossom in the wee hours of the night while he and Jend waited quietly in their tree. There was something odd and unsavory about the fellow. He was angry at the thought that he would not be able to question him further. A dead werewolf did not help them in this situation, however a live werewolf wouldn't be of much use either.
Pas moved in and began working on the corpse, he knew that werewolves did not always stay dead and it could soon come back to bite them in the... Pas skillfully removed the head and lodged a silver coin deep into the still warm neck-hole. Auren and Raddick stood watching and wincing at the grotesqueness of it all. Pas stopped and looked back over his shoulder.
"If you want to be a "made" man, you can't be afraid to get your hands dirty," he smiled and flashed another silver coin. He rolled the corpse over, removed it's tattered breeches and jammed the coin up the elf's rear. He moved closer and sniffed the corpse.
"There are many types of Lycanthropes," Pas started, "the type decides the form they take. If you get bit, you turn. You will most likely need silver weapons if you plan on doing any serious damage to them. And forget tracking them, they will always have the drop on you."
Pas described more in-depth knowledge as he stood above the corpse sniffing his fingers. Fox shook his head in disgust and noticed a pack laying near by. I must have belonged to Merril.
Pack contents:
Wax
Cooked Pheasant
1 Garnet
26 Gold
Old paper with writing
Fox held the tattered paper up, light pouring through caused it to look like a flap of skin riddled with veins.
"The sun comes up in the morning"
"The moon comes out at night"
"The wind blows at noon"
Who keeps complaining about getting healed?
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