Werewolf hunting rules

Late at night, the hotel became lively again.

The strange noise and smell of alcohol drew both Clayton and Julius downstairs, both of whom happened to be awake.

The lobby on the first floor was full of people, the place was brightly lit by oil lamps, and people were changing glasses as they did on the first day they arrived. But instead of drinking strong tea, the drinkers were now really drinking. Clayton noticed that the smell of the wine was obviously stronger than before, and the tall wine barrels built in the corner proved that this was not an illusion.

The drinkers were chatting animatedly, with phrases like "Here's to Dad Scotch!" appearing frequently on every table.

Socrates was a pioneer of the White Sect in the ancient empire. Because he was good at alchemy and medicine, he was revered as the god of medicine and wine.

But this is still the month of Ramadan in which sacrifices are made to the Creator. In order to stay awake and have a firm will to welcome the light, even followers of Socrako will not drink alcohol at this time.

But Clayton saw the faces of the drinkers beaming with joy, and it didn't look like they were violating a taboo.

"What's wrong with them?" he asked Perun, who was wiping the counter. He didn't stay in the square until the last moment, so he couldn't understand this phenomenon.

"Ah, you left too early and didn't hear the secret method for detecting werewolves that Pastor Lewis told us." The innkeeper wiped the table and pushed out a wine glass for Clayton to fill. "Let the werewolf drink wine mixed with salt, so that when it is drunk, it will show its original shape."

Salt is a sacred substance, but it is more commonly used to drive away invisible beings or make invisible demons appear.

Shapeshifters are not actually restrained by salt.

Creighton was even more certain that the townspeople's trust in Padre Lewis had been completely betrayed, but this was a good thing for him. He smiled at Peron, raised his glass and drank it down.

Perron handed Julius another glass, and the latter didn't hesitate.

"So tonight is a carnival night?" Julius tapped his index finger on the table and asked with interest.

It seems that the people in the town plan to drink everyone, but even if there is a werewolf here, and he will really show up because of this method, I am afraid that the others will be drunk and unconscious by then, unable to catch him. Demonized.

Julius liked this absurd but unrestrained carnival, which reminded him of the regular gatherings of wizards.

Wizards of different levels and origins get together to test their new spells. It may not have any effect, but everyone is happy with it.

Pei Lun poured himself a glass of salty wine, his tone unable to conceal his joy.

"That's probably it. The elders paid for all my wine storage. But I can't get drunk, otherwise no one will pour wine for you."

Clayton responded with a smile, and then reported the address on Ian's memo very naturally.

"How is the temperament of the owner of this family? I heard that he has good goods, and I plan to go and have a look tomorrow."

Pei Lun's cheeks turned red and he nodded repeatedly. It was obvious that he was already tipsy.

"Aha, that's my uncle Perot's house. Of course he has a lot of good stuff there, which are all my grandfather's relics. As for him, he lives a happy life and is a decent man praised by everyone. In the past few decades, he has been You work in the city and just brought your wife home last month. Maybe he will still feel a sense of fellow countryman when he sees you."

Clayton felt that the name sounded familiar, but he was sure that he had never seen such a person before, otherwise he would immediately think of the other person's face.

This trace of doubt was quickly forgotten by him.

Now that he and Julius have found out that there are no werewolves in the town and everything is the strange sound of the acoustic conch, there is no need to pay attention to this matter.

The townsfolk's revelry will not last long, and the general atmosphere of tension will protect them.

Clayton felt that there was no need to remind them now. He could just tell Priest Lewis about the conch when he was leaving.

He and Julius gave a few instructions, and the two of them shuttled among the crowd, each extracting information.

The drinkers were all in a lively conversation because of their drunkenness, and they were very happy to let the two friendly strangers know their status and connections in the town. This even triggered a competition, and people rushed to tell them what they knew. , for fear of falling behind and appearing not as well-informed as others.

Gevaux is just a small town. If a person lives here for more than thirty years, he will know at least one-fifth of the people in the town. So when Clayton mentioned that he had picked up something by the river, he only briefly described it, and before he even took it out, someone immediately announced the name of its owner.

The only exception is the fishing rod. Many people in Gevo are fond of fishing, but the fishing rod has few characteristics.

Unfortunately for Clayton - the owners of most of the items returned home after losing them, and no one has disappeared since.

After ruling out these possibilities, they then mentioned the "patients" who were taken away by the church.

The number of "patients" was surprisingly small, only four, and their illness had been widely spread in the town long before the arrival of the Holy Priest in the city, but there were only some physical changes and no vicious attacks. The event occurs.

Afterwards, people gathered around the roadside to watch them being taken away by priests and soldiers just like today.

So the possibility of loss of control raised by Julius was also ruled out.

As for guns, this is no different from Clayton’s original understanding.

There are many sources of guns in rural areas. City people may trust a well-known gunsmith or declare and purchase guns from a well-known firearms company, but country people don't care about this at all. As long as the bullet's impact point can be accurately controlled within thirty yards, then this gun is qualified for them.

Six shillings can be exchanged for a flintlock pistol, and a single young man can collect this much money in a month or two. Therefore, guns are common in Gèvaux and are one of the most difficult things to identify their owners.

Clayton wanted to show the drinkers the broken gun he had picked up, but he found that he had forgotten it at Ian Lazarus's place and did not ask for it back when he was in the square. This mistake made him Very regretful.

These topics gradually caused a storm among the drinkers.

"If that werewolf can also shoot, how should we deal with it?" A young man suddenly thought.

The drinkers next to him laughed, and one of them raised his glass: "Werewolves don't know how to shoot. They only think about eating meat and drinking blood. How can they operate such a delicate thing? You think so, Bei?" Mr. Lue?" He asked the stranger for advice.

Clayton Bello smiled stiffly.

He saw Julius hiding in the crowd laughing loudly.

Another drinker retorted: "Why not? If you ask me, if this werewolf is so cunning, he may not be able to use a gun, and he may be better at riding horses than you."

He was very serious in the first half of the sentence, but he couldn't hide his smile at the end. He burst into laughter first, and the people around him immediately applauded and celebrated for this successful joke.

Correspondingly, Clayton was even more embarrassed.

He sincerely hoped that these strange friends would stop making such werewolf jokes, but it backfired.

Another bizarre question was raised.

"But a werewolf can't transform during the day. Does it have to ride a horse and carry a shotgun up and down the path at night?"

"That sounds like a sheriff," someone at the next table commented.

Julius, who knew the details of the werewolves present, was already lying on the table, shoulders shrugging.

Clayton's face was extremely dark.

The oldest gentleman at this table said slowly: "Yes, it will come to our town on horseback at nights like this." His eyes were as wide as bells, his voice was low and magnetic, and he seemed to be particularly good at speaking. The kind of people who tell stories attract the attention of people other than werewolves just by opening their mouths.

"It will hold a lantern and select the fat lambs it likes in the stable, and even enslave our loyal guard dogs to guard it. But tonight, there is a lamb that is fatter than the lamb and has been marinated in salt and wine. The creatures are gathering together, causing it to change its target - those pair of bright yellow wolf eyes are looking here!"

This story changed the atmosphere very well and people burst into laughter again.

Claddagh—Claddagh—

Amid the roar of laughter, Clayton's ears moved first, and then he suddenly looked towards the door.

It was obviously the sound of a horse, the rhythm of its shoes hitting the ground that no other animal could imitate.

The drinkers were still a little confused. Even those who heard it just suspected that someone was imitating the sound of a werewolf riding a horse in the story, so they laughed again. Others who did not hear the sound of horse hooves also continued to laugh along with the atmosphere. With.

It wasn't until the sound of horse hooves was close to the door that they finally realized that this was not someone's ventriloquism.

The lobby fell silent.

Everyone looked towards the door. The smell of alcohol made them unable to figure out whether a werewolf could ride a horse. At this moment, they all held their breath, waiting in panic for the person to open the door and reveal their identity.

After a while, the door opened, and a girl wearing a red hood and a white skirt stood there.

She looks sweet, with a pair of topaz-like eyes and black shoulder-length curly hair.

People breathed a collective sigh of relief, and a gust of wind seemed to blow in the lobby.

Clayton stood up in the wind, his face tensed, and he raised his right hand to point at the girl.

"Donna, why are you here? This is nonsense!"

The girl took a step across to avoid his fingers.