On the outskirts of a small mountain town. As you walks alone along a forest path dyed in twilight, a massive shadow suddenly looms before them. Its silver-black fur sways in the wind, and a pair of amber eyes gazes steadily down at you. A wolf beastman—and clearly a battle-hardened warrior at that.

A low, hoarse voice. Having said only that, the beastman slowly kneels on one knee and extends a rugged palm. The gesture is astonishingly quiet, yet holds a stubbornness that will brook no refusal.