"I know what you're talking about. I also know that it was the council's idea to post that bounty." Horace took another gulp of his drink and ordered another saying, "That got impatient at the progress I was making. Damn thing is a slippery bastard though."
Horace took another swig of his drink before setting it down with a satisfied breath before saying, "Alright. I'm not some back water fool to reject help when it shows up. We'll work together and hunt down the creature come dawn. It'll be hungry by then and we'll have a good chance of picking up it's tracks at that time. Sound like a plan?"
Sounds good. You're probably more experienced than me at this sort of thing.
He turns and calls to the barkeeper. Do you provide beds as well as food?
He turns back to Horace. Where are we meeting at dawn?
I think we're good.
Faust continues to sit at his table, observing the patrons of the bar and listening to local rumours, ordering another goblet of wine.
Once it starts to grow dark, he decides to book a room for the night and tuck in early, figuring he should get a good night's sleep before the hunt tomorrow.
The bed was pleasantly comfortable to Faust's surprise. So much so that he was sleeping soundly, until he woke up to the distant screams of a man. At first he couldn't tell if he had dreamt the scream, but he soon found the answer as another one come. This last one had been further away than the one from before...
It takes a while for Faust to brush away the haze of sleep. He recalls a scream from a dream, but then realises the scream is real as he hears another. He gets up and grabs his satchel and Cross, rushing outside to try and determine what was happening.
As Faust rushes outside, he takes a moment to try and find his bearing. Fighting off the last remnants of grogginess, Faust determines that west was probably the direction he heard the last scream come from.
The screams had died out as Faust pushed himself through the town until he had passed all of the buildings. He was at the treeline now, looking at a shadow filled woods. Scanning the treeline for a lead, Faust heard a faint and weak gasping off to his right...
Faust quickly finds the source of the gasping coming upon a young man in his twenties. His face was covered in dirt and blood, hair a black mess. He looked like he was on Death's doorstep slumped over, hands cradling his gut. Blood was flowing out into a small puddle around him, slowed by his hands holding his torn guts in place...
Faust curses. His fears were right. The beast did this to him.
Seeing the man slink into death, Faust roughly shakes his shoulder, careful not to injure him. Don't die on me here.
He stands up, guarding over the man, looking for any signs of the beast while calling out for help, hoping that someone will come who can treat the young man.