There is no denying the inherent charisma of the man that owns “The Howler House” inn and tavern in the rapidly redeveloping town of Resurrection. His full name is Gustav Grosserhund, but he insists that everyone call him Gus. He keeps a lively place in the middle of the town where the booze is cheap and the beds are adequate. The real draw though is his singing. Nobody in a three-hundred mile radius can sing as well as Gus can. The only thing he likes to do more than sing is to talk, and let me tell you something; Gus has never been found lacking in opinions.
Just the other day the good folks of Resurrection were treated to Gus’ theories on wolves. The topic had come up in a roundabout way with somebody (nobody knows quite for sure who started it) bringing up the idea that while Maelonbourg didn’t have a lot of animals running wild at least that meant that they didn’t have any wolves either. Murmurs of agreement from the gathered throng were met by a sneer from one of the barmaids who shot a glance over to Gus. Gus cleared his throat and said the following:
“I’ve never understood why wolves are treated with such fear and revulsion. Surely there is no other animal as noble as the wolf! Do they not tend to their pups with care and communal concern that even most people lack towards those in their community? Do they not protect their older pack members, and guard the weak and infirm members from danger? Do they resort to selfishness and pettiness in seeking their own rewards, or do they work together for the benefit of all? Are they to be feared for their hunting? Never has a wolf killed for sport or bloodlust! They take what they need in order to live another day. They do not torment, torture, or abuse their prey. When have you been able to claim the same for a man?”
“Wolves are no monsters. They can be domesticated. They can be made to view people with the same trust and care that they do each other. Superstition leads us to claim that wolves are our enemies because there are those accursed with being half man and half wolf. A man that becomes a killing machine in the full moon’s light. Such rubbish! The man was always the monster. He was the one filled with hatred, fear, and anger. Wolves know nothing of such aimless violence. When the evil of a man’s heart is set loose in the body of a wolf, what would one expect but bloodshed? This is not the wolf to blame, but the man! It is his heart that runs black with sin and wickedness!”
“I urge you, friends, to turn away from such close minded chatter as to persist that wolves are the enemy. Blessed are those that are able to embrace the animals who are devoid of the depravations of the human soul. And cursed indeed are those that change from man to beast in the light of the full moon, not for the violence they incur but for the stain they cause on the reputation of the noble wolf. Should we fortunate ones here ever lay hands on a werewolf, then woe be unto their pitiful hides! Let us drink now to the virtues of our unspoiled brothers in the wilderness, and commit to rooting out any that would slander their regal existence through idle claptrap. Long live our wolves, and may those that taint them with the evil of men run slower than our wrath!”
If anybody ever needs to form an angry mob quickly, may I suggest “The Howler House” in Resurrection as a great place to start.