The timid creaking of a leather strap hoisting a lantern is the only noise that permeates through the dense trees. A lone man, clad in armor and mail, steps into the soft earth as he pretends to walk with purpose, yet only meanders about, searching for any clues that might lead him to his charge. He scans the moist ground and dewed grass with the golden glow of his lamp, creaking with every sway to and fro, in hopes of a footprint, blood patch, anything really.
As if his persistence were a calling, a sudden snapping twig, or branch, answered the silent plea. He wheels around on his heel, the lantern violently arcing outward and sending haphazard beams of gold out into the trees and foliage before eventually swaying into its own hanging. As the lantern stills, he sees a bush lingering just beyond the reach of its glow, shivering with movement that rustles the leaves.
"Who goes there? Reveal thine-self and forgo the shadows...", he calls to the shrub.
The bush vibrates with movement and a deep and resounding growl emanates from its center. A hand, fingers tipped with sharp talons and completely devoid of flesh, presenting only the egg-white bone to reflect the soft light of his lantern, creeps from the bush, and claws into the ground. Etching trails into the dirt.
The steel-clad man feels his chest tighten at the sight. This was undoubtedly a beast related in some manner to his task, if not the entirety of it. His hand reaches over his body and grips the handle of his sword at his hip. The beating of his heart sounding in his ears only seemed to echo within his helmet, almost deafening him to the point that the second growl coming from the bush was only confirmed by him seeing it shake more violently. "No man might make such noise..." he announces, mostly to himself in an effort to steel his nerves. "Nay... 'tis a wretched beast," he murmurs with malice as he draws his sword from the sheath. It pulls from the scabbard with a muffled chime, its silver-edged blade glinting against the light from his lantern.
If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
The shrouded beast howls as it leaps from the bushes, finally engulfing itself in the rays of light by his lamp. The creature charges from the shrubbery towards him, using its arms as catapults that launch its legs forward. A large, wolf-like beast leaps over the ground, an amalgamation of man and dog. Humanoid only in shape of its body, mounting a wolf's head upon its neck. With gangly arms, one of which was nothing more than skeleton, and thin, short legs bestowing upon it a disconcerting visage as it galloped to him. Despite its malnourished appearance, with visible ribs and bony shoulders, it moved with a notable strength. Its canine snout snapping closed with each step. He could see the dark eyes reflecting beams of light back at him, yet they were filled with savage rage and bloodlust. The man tenses up, a split second of doubt flooding his mind as he leans onto his back heel, ready to flee. Then a sudden courage swells into his chest as he recites the story of David and Goliath in his mind.
He plants his back heel into the earth in resolution and rears his sword arm in suit behind himself, tucking the opposite shoulder down. With his lantern falling out of his grip as he opens his hand to meet the beast head-on, he pushes with great effort onto his planted leg, sending him unto the beast as quickly as it approached, with the resounding cry of battle: "AND I SMITE THEE!"
