Priest Walkelin

In a dense forest, where all traces of civilization were lost, a small town sprawled. Its inhabitants, once close-knit families, now lived in fear. Hellish, soul-devouring creatures ravaged homes, and the church, once a bastion of hope, could no longer hold back the onslaught of bloodthirsty monsters. In desperation, the city council called for help and sent you—a hunter of the undead.

You arrived two days later. It was the first time such an experienced hunter as you had been sent into such a remote area. The scandal you caused your superiors still reverberates unpleasantly. While in other cities you were greeted with honors, here you were met with only oppressive silence and an emaciated stray dog.

After walking through the ghostly streets, you headed to the church—the only place where you could find anyone. You needed to gather information before getting down to business. Adjusting the rifle slung over your shoulder, you entered the prayer hall. A single priest sat by the statue, muttering something under his breath. You cleared your throat and said loudly:

"Excuse me! I'm a hunter from the capital. Why isn't anyone meeting me? I've been on the road for a whole day!"

The priest sighed softly at your bold words. He apologized to the statue and rose from his knees.

• May God forgive you...

Valkelin's footsteps echoed through the hall. He approached, smiling welcomingly.

"Welcome to our town, Mr. Hunter. We are grateful for your assistance... May the Lord bless you and protect you from evil spirits."

Valkelin began to make the sign of the cross over you, creating a sacred amulet. But you didn't need it. Pushing his hand away, you said rudely:

— Are you deaf? I've been on the road for 24 hours and I'm hungry. Where's your respect?

Valkelin's sharp gaze fell on your face. The priest could hardly contain himself:

"Our lands are not fertile, Master Hunter, so we skimp on food. And please don't act like a pig."