1 ch. 1

Late when the sun slept and the moon shone full in the sky. A woman carried a swaddled child deep into the woods. Her cargo, a cursed babe had started to change from the beautiful baby boy she had delivered, into a screaming demon. The child wailed as if possessed. Ears ringing, she dropped the child. Swaths of skin peeled off as bones warped, and his steel gray eyes dyed the color of blood. Black fur replaced the skin as it fell off. The woman felt her heart shattering as her baby boy became a large wolf cub.

With a few tentative steps, it approached the woman. In horror, she backed away from her monstrous progeny. Howls echoed throughout the woods as if welcoming the young wolf. Terror sunk into the heart of the woman as a pack of wolves encircled her. The eyes of the wolves glowed with an ominous light. The largest of the wolves approached the cub and started to inspect it closely, sniffing and nudging it. The cub seemed to pass some kind of test, as he was ushered away into the forest.

***

The cub spent its first month of life with the pack. As he was too young to hunt he played with the other cubs as he was larger than them they quickly took to following him around. The cub learned and grew fast, that was until the new moon. On the night of the new moon, the cub changed into a baby, the pack knew its scent as its adopted cub but it seemed to be a baby. The elder females protected the baby fiercely as some of the younger wolves came curious. The other cubs covered the freezing baby as they slept. Like this, the baby survived until the next full moon as it returned to its wolfish form.

***

As years went by the baby grew into a child. The child learned to control his transformations as he was much bigger and stronger as a wolf he chose to stay as a wolf. At age seven he discovered a hybrid form the change from boy to wolf had become natural and fast. The pain of transformation never faded, however. His hybrid form was significantly stronger and faster than his pure wolf form. The pack had long grown accustomed to the strange cub they had adopted. With the addition of the cub, the pack grew in strength tremendously gathering more food. The cub healed at a tremendous speed and fought with the ferocity of five wolves. Like this, the pack grew in number every year.

***

At ten winters the cub had become the leader of the pack as the oldest and strongest of the pack. In full wolf form, he was about twice the size of the regular wolf. In the years he had been with the pack it had grown from twenty wolves to well over forty wolves and had long abandoned its original hunting grounds. The pack led by the child devastated the region. No road was safe, no one dared to leave the villages.

The nobility scoffed at the peasants' fears of the great wolf big as a horse that led a fearless pack of wolves. That was until a noble's carriage was hit. The noble survived only because he knew some minor magic and conjured a fireball that felled a wolf, scaring off the wolves. Losing all his guards and three of his horses he was forced to ride his horse back to town at full gallop as he was pursued by the enormous vengeful wolf. Hidden in town he felt safe until he heard a howl far louder than any that should be possible. Falling to the ground grasping at his ears a terror rose from deep in his soul as he looked out the window. What met his eyes were the blood-red eyes of a werewolf.

"No dear gods no" he sputtered as he scrambled backward. A black-furred fist crashed through the window. The shattered glass cut gouges into its forearm. Unwavering, the werewolf leaped through the window. A deep growl resonated throughout the room. The noble knew that without the right spell or an armory of silver, a werewolf was extremely hard to stop and even harder to kill.

Just then the warning bell rang "Wolves! Wolves! To arms!"

With a quick incantation, the noble amplified his voice "Gather in the town square! It's a Werewolf!" As he shouted he bolted out the house. The werewolf hot on his heels crashed through the door. Another spell and the noble ran like the wind his stamina consumed at an exponential rate. The tireless werewolf leaping, building to building keeping pace. A group of about twenty men had formed up in the town square.

"Ready yourselves it's right behind me," he said as he got into formation.

"Any silver?" He questioned.

"Aye right here" a grizzled mercenary missing a few teeth pointed at his dagger.

The noble didn't have high hopes that the shiny dagger was indeed silver or that the mercenary could even land a blow on the furred demon.

As those thoughts passed another howl tore through the town. The instinctual fear they each felt was that of a mouse faced with a cat. A natural predator and helpless prey. As the werewolf landed outside of their formation it prowled looking for weaknesses. Another howl tore through the town this time deeper, stronger but it did not come from the wolf before them. And just like that the faint ray of hope in the men's hearts vanished. Two werewolves was a death sentence.

The werewolf snapped its head in the direction of the howl before looking back and locking eyes with the noble. The group tensed ready for the imminent clash. The werewolf however disappointed them as it leaped off in the direction of the howl.

***

Just outside of town, there were two men, one in a polished set of gleaming armor and the other in monk's robes. The armored man was fair-skinned with a narrow face, tidy brown hair, and brown eyes. The monk had a square jawline with a dusting of stubble. His long brown hair was loosely tied back a few strands over his sky-blue eyes. Both had an intimidating stature and an air of power around them.

"What do you think the chances of us finding a prospective out here are?" Asked the robed man offhandedly as he rubbed his chin.

"High. The rumors in the area are promising as well as an oracle from Bishop Orrin" the armored man replied confidently.

"But why send two of us, isn't this normally a one-man job?"

"Instructions from the bishop it is not our place to question it" answered the man curtly.

"But–" he went to say as an unmistakable howl echoed out from the town nearby.

An eyebrow shot up on the armored man's face. "Like I said, high"

"Yeah yeah paladins are all so smug"

The robed man transformed as his bones cracked and reformed as he grew and changed into an eight-foot-tall gray-furred werewolf. A second howl echoed out.

"Angry this one," remarked the armored man.

"They always are," rumbled the deep voice of the transformed man.

With a deep breath, he let out a thunderous howl of his own.