Fang approached the southern edge of Gordhurst. With the threat of the undead looming on the town it was understandable that Wortham and the other residents were nervous, and perhaps even hostile when approached by a werewolf. What didn't make sense was the idea of the mayor trying to cover it all up. He continued to run that particular detail from the young girl, Corea, over and over in his head as he traipsed over loose cobblestones and dirt.

It was as he was lost in thought that he began to hear footsteps approaching from behind. He spun around and gripped the broadsword slung over his shoulder.

"Brave man to sneak up on a werewolf," he snarled.

The man who stood before him was an older gentleman, at least sixty. His form was thin and frail.

"I mean you no harm, wolf. I only wish to speak to you for a few minutes."

Fang eased his posture and stood up straight. "What is it I can help you with, old-timer?"

The old man smiled. "The question is... what can the mayor of Gordhurst help you with, warrior? Please, come join me for a few moments at my house. The night is cold on my old bones."

Before Fang could say anything, the man had turned away, expectantly leading Fang to his house.

"Sir?" Fang asked.

The man turned and smiled at him. "Please, it will only take a moment." He peered around, wary of onlookers, and then held his hand close to his mouth to direct a hoarse whisper. "I'd like to talk about the little undead problem you're wandering into."

Convinced this was enough, the man continued walking toward his home.

Fang merely followed.

The old man slid a cup of coffee toward Fang across the small table between their seats. Fang could not sit comfortably in his and loomed over the table as a result. His back was curved like an egg, hunched over. He picked up the small mug and began to sip at it.

"I am the Mayor, William Suir. What is your name?"

"Fang," the wolf said between sips.

"Surely not your real name," the Mayor laughed.

Fang shrugged. "My old name is as dead as Triseria is."

"Mmm, I wondered about that. You are eloquent for a beastman," the Mayor said. It was meant to be a compliment, Fang was sure, but it still stung as an insult. It always did.

"Thank you. How can I help you, Mayor Suir?"

The Mayor leaned back in his rather large, padded chair. Several skins were draped over it and Fang recognized the chair would have fit his own proportions better.

"Well, Mr. Fang, I implore you to leave town, tonight, and not give in to the hysteria of a few of my people here in town."

Fang took another sip of the coffee and set the mug on the table.

"I've seen the undead myself, on the way here. I destroyed two of them."

The Mayor laughed, "oh, of that I have no doubt. You are most certainly capable of tearing this whole village apart if need be."

The Mayor's expression hardened. He weaved his fingers together across his face and stared directly into Fang's eyes.

"I know of the threat of the undead, and I have been taking steps to protect the town. The last thing I need is a panic on my hands, however. For the good of Gordhurst I want to keep this silent. Wortham, the good man that he is, is a bit of an agitator. So I find it is best to not give him anything to rile up the others with. That is a fair request, is it not?"

Fang nodded. It made a sort of sense, but it was not how he would have handled the situation.

"My son, Alwynn, is currently dealing with the problem. I sent him with two other men to the graveyard to start cleansing the land. They should have it under control in days. I had them secure the iron gates, so nothing should get through, besides the few that had already escaped."

Fang noted the mention of 'two men.'

"Have you heard from them today?" he asked.

"Indeed, Old Tom dropped by earlier today to inform me of the progress and returned back to help Allwyn and Combes continue the mission."

Fang's ear twitched. The Mayor was lying.

"It sounds like things are well in hand for Gordhurst then," Fang smiled. "Could you use a strong hand and a broadsword? I will work for some food and board. We could make very short work of the ghouls."

The Mayor frowned, "no, that won't work at all." He leaned forward, smiling, "we haven't the money for any outside help I'm afraid."

Fang was about to protest, but the Mayor continued, "to that end, I ask that you not follow up on the young girl's quest for her brother, nor stay in town any longer. I already have enough to deal with. I do not need my people fearing the wolf at the door come the morning, despite how sociable he may be."

A thin, uneasy smile crossed the Mayor's lips, and the hackles on the back of Fang's muscular neck raised.

"I could help you out for free, as I said, a meal and a place to sleep-"

"Enough," the Mayor rose from his chair, unusually spry given his age, "as the Mayor of Gordhurst you must obey my wishes." He leaned forward, fearlessly pointing his finger in Fang's face. "I recognize the cadence of authority in your voice, beast. As someone affiliated with the kingdom of Triseria then you must honor my wishes and depart my town immediately. My people are my concern. Not yours."

Fang had his answer. He rose from the chair and noticed the Mayor did not back away. The old man was strong-willed.

"I thank you for your hospitality and I will respect your wishes, Mayor Suir." Fang edged past the table and toward the door. "I'll leave town tonight."

"See that you do, 'Fang.'"

Fang sucked in air sharply between his teeth. He felt the urge to plunge his fangs deep into the throat of the old man and crush his neck in one bite. He stepped into the cool air of the night and toward the south of town.

He would not be deterred by the will of an old tyrant.

When Fang stepped past the edge of the town, past the final house, he took a deep breath. He fell forward, hands colliding with the soft soil and grass of the clearing around the town. His clawed fingers dug deep into the earth. He arched his back and then stretched, digging his feet deep into the soil.

It was time to run toward trouble.