You walk in the direction of the barn, short sword held in front of you like torch.  The fog is so thick, the blade seems to slice through it as you move.  You don't arrive at the barn or see Jhon or Burr... or the werewolf.  You must have gotten turned around in the fog.  

Soren and Giles are no longer in sight behind you, either.

You run.

For the moment, your only desire is to escape this choking fog.  For a moment, you catch a glimpse of a figure in the mist, shapeless.  Whether friend or foe, you cannot care in this instant, and then it is gone.  When you regain your composure, you are standing in mud and dead grass... the fog still surrounds you and there is no one else in sight.

[Not quite your turn yet but...]

No sooner does the mist swallow Burr and Jhon, than your other allies depart as well.  Zefla marches bravely, sword drawn, toward the battle.  Soren meanwhile, seems overcome with panic and flees the field.  Both of them vanish into the thick, grey vapors.  For the moment, you are completely alone....

The werewolf is facing Jhon, but from the way its body tenses and hair bristles, you can feel the rage radiating off of it... as it breathes the heat coming off the creature is enough to bring sweat to your brow... or is that fear?

Its pivots its body, trying to watch both of you at the same time, head snapping forward then behind, red eyes pulsing with hate... then it disengages, sidestepping your blades and backing into the mists on its powerful hind legs, eyes still on both of you until it vanishes.  It moves slowly... though it fades from view, it cannot have gone far....

4

You hear Giles' voice in the distance, agreeing with you that everyone should gather at the barn.  

At that moment, along the back wall, you hear something against the outside of the barn... the scratching/ripping of long claws raking the wood.  It isn't the sound of something trying to tear its way in; rather, it sounds like something is slowly circling the barn, dragging huge claws along the wood.

Jhon looks at you in shock.  "Come now, man!  See how they flee?  Our weapons are death to these monsters.  We can't hide here and just let them escape."  He walks out of the barn in the direction the second werewolf just departed... he swings his halberd through the mist and holds it out, as he looks left and right for sign of the creature.  And then he too vanishes in the mist.

As you call out your warning to Zefla and Soren and start to run toward the barn, you faintly here Jhon's voice somewhere ahead.  It sounds like he is arguing with Burr but it is too far off to tell for sure.

You dash forward and enter the barn... or you should have.  It was no more than 30' in front of you... but as you run through the fog, there is no barn.  No Zefla either, who also just walked off in this direction.  What happened to her?

Could you have gotten turned around somehow?

5

This is all so wrong.  This was supposed to be just a side job for the militia... walk a little, talk a little, maybe fight a monster, and make a little coin.

Its all gone so crazy so fast.  This fog... the werewolves... it's so hard to breathe.

You feel lightheaded.  It's as if you're falling, but up.  You feel the sensation of your feet touching the ground, but your other senses tell you that you're floating up... up... and away.

Things get a little fuzzy after that.

[We'll get back to you in a moment.]

You grip your shield and struggle to breathe.  It hurts... your body wants to reject this mist... there is something unnatural... something evil about it.

Your grip on yourself is threatened as a shape surges past in the grey fog, just at the edge of visibility.  Larger than a man.  Fast.  

You brace your shield, but it isn't coming for you.  It keeps running past and is gone... and there is a sound, a snarl, and then a crunch, and then something like wet parchment being torn.  Fine droplets fleck against your face, in your eyes, blurring your vision.  As a reflex you wipe it away.

Your hand comes back down, and it is streaked with crimson.  Blood.

There is a series of soft, bouncing thuds.  Something vaguely round-shaped is rolling toward you along the ground.  It slows as it nears your feat.  You understand what it is... willing it to stop before it spins all the way around, but it ignores your request.  It rolls to a stop just in front of your boots. 

Jhon's face looks at you, past you, up toward the sky with dull eyes, still wearing an expression of confidence.  

Soren feels his gorge rising and fear begin to tap at his heart once more.  He has seen a fresh kill more often than he can count, so it is not the gore.

But decapitation and sending the head flying serve no purpose to a natural predator's goals of securing their prey and guarding the kill from competitors.  Good meat inside the head.  This is something else.  Was that a werewolf?  If it is so easy for them to dispatch us, why not do it before?

He does feel sadness he looks down on the young pup's eyes and their final death stare.  He thinks of his new companions and on a sudden impulse, he reaches down and closes Jhon's eyes gently.  Now why did I do that?  I have never done so before with the dead.  But it felt right...

Shaking himself back to his senses, Soren prays to Silvanus for Guidance in this strange and deadly purgatory.  He stands quietly as if guarding Jhon's head, feeling absurd for doing so.  He tries to sense for the large, ferocious enemy approaching and takes the dodge action.

Perception plus Guidance:  11 + 3 = 14