In this day and age, a village was plagued with beasts every night. Werewolves. There was the story how a man wearing wolf skin was around the town. Those that turned him down to stay at their house, were turned into werewolves. The man disappeared, leaving nothing but hungry werewolves prowling the streets every night, eating a hapless victim every time. Public executions have been made, but the beasts still continue to plague the town. The people transformed would have no memory of the night, so no one trusted anyone in the town. It was so common, children played it as a game on the streets.

The capital sent Leiv and his guard to the town to investigate the crimes as the royals feared the werewolf plague would spread and kill more innocents. But even Leiv and his men were having difficulty identifying and even capturing a werewolf.

You were a simple man, and a musician. People described your voice to be an angel. You were running low on coin, and you noticed a poster that people, even villagers can put their hand in the ring to try and identify even one werewolf. If they succeeded, they would be generously rewarded. And you decided to take it. You could use no sword, but daggers were your specialty as you weren’t a knight.

You noticed things: how the physical appearance of the werewolf was unique. Some traits of the person remained, even as they transformed. A werewolf with specks of white fur could signify older age, and scars remained the same even after transformation. It was unknown how many werewolves there are, but it was most likely a pack.

It was one particular night, and you were walking the streets at in secret, your face hidden with a black hood. Werewolves would come out this time of night, when the moon was high in the sky. You watched the knights patrol the streets from the rooftops.