It was dark and raining. The windmill of an old farm creaked as it moved by the force of the wind. Inside the farmhouse was Herbert, the farmer. He sat comfortably by the fire as he listened to the rain. His crops had been harvested already and his animals were safe in the barn, it was time for him to relax. Despite his relaxed state, one thought burned in the back of his mind. Something he said he wouldn’t worry about. The threat of attacks on farms. Some farmers said they were attacked by bandits, others claimed giant wolves came after their sheep. Herbert didn’t know if the attacks were linked or the land had gotten so dangerous that he had to worry about multiple threats.
Then he heard howling and his blood went cold. It could just be wolves passing in the forest, but it was also likely that he was about to be under attack. In times like this, most farmers would hide in their houses and wait for a knight or someone from the castle to come down and clear out the beasts, but Herbert knew by the time anyone came, it could be too late.
Luckily Herbert was prepared. After hearing so many stories from the neighboring farms, he used his savings to buy weapons. So he went into the storage room in his house and grabbed his new crossbow and a sharp hand axe made for chopping off limbs, not splitting wood. He also brought along a lantern so he could see in the dark. So Herbert went outside in the rain. He held up his lantern and walked around, but stayed close to his house. He watched closely for movement. When suddenly he spotted large wolves in his fields accompanied by rough looking men. So it seemed the bandits were connected to the wolf attacks. Without saying a word, Herbert loaded a bolt into his crossbow and fired it. The bolt flew straight and hit one of the men in the chest. The bandit’s eyes went wide and he fell to the ground, dead.
The other bandit saw the light from the lantern and realized he was under attack. Then to Herbert’s surprise, the bandit growled and then began to change shape. In seconds the bandit went from being a man, to a wolf. Just as the bandit changed into a wolf, the other wolves stopped sniffing the ground and began to growl, then stood up on two legs. It seemed these weren’t bandits with wolves, but a band of werewolf bandits. Herbert sighed “Just great”. He didn’t need this stress, maintaining a farm was hard enough work already.
The werewolves ran straight for Herbert, growling and snarling as they went. Out of reflex he threw his lantern, which hit the first werewolf and broke, splashing flaming oil all over the beast. The wolf man howled in pain and then dropped to the ground in a fiery mass. It was true that silver hurt werewolves, but burning them alive, stabbing them in the heart or cutting off their head would also do the trick. In fact, those methods worked on almost all creatures.
Herbert loaded his crossbow and tried to take aim, but the wolves had closed in and one of them smacked the crossbow out of his hand. The force of the hit, jolted the bow and fired a bolt into the werewolf’s leg. While the one wolf was distracted by it’s leg wound, Herbert attacked the other wolf with his axe. Herbert’s axe came down and sliced into the shoulder of the nearest wolf. The werewolf countered by swiping Herbert with his claws, which knocked Herbert back, making him slam into the outer wall of his home. Besides the impact against the wall, Herbert was now bleeding from the claw marks. As long as he didn’t get bit, he wouldn’t have to worry about turning into a wolf. But Herbert was more concerned with bleeding to death right now.
While the two remaining wolves recovered from their injuries, Herbert scrambled into his house and back into the storage room. He needed new weapons and had an idea. The wolves walked in through the open door, the door was left open because Herbert didn’t want them to break the door down. If he survived this, not having a door would really be a bother. Herbert ran out of his storage room and into the living room where the wolves sniffed around to look for him. Herbert now held a sledgehammer he used for breaking rocks and two small glass bottles of lamp oil and a torch. He ran at the wolves, then past them back outside. He was determined not to burn his own house down. When the wolves followed him outside they were both hit with small bottles of oil, which broke and got oil on their fur. Herbert then swung his torch. Lighting the wolves on fire. He only had a little oil left so the fire didn’t engulf the creatures it just burned and distracted them. While they were distracted he swung his hammer, cracking the skull of the one, then his the second in the chest, breaking ribs. Werewolves could heal their injuries quickly, so Herbert had to act fast. He ran out and grabbed his axe, which was now in the mud. He lifted his muddy axe and brought it down on the first werewolf, who was bent over with a cracked rib. The force of the axe chopped the monsters head clean off.
The second wolf recovered from his skull injury and tried to bite Herbert, but ended up biting down on the blade of his axe as Herbert swung the axe into the creature’s mouth, slicing off the top part of its head, which was the most important part of the head. The wolves had been defeated and Herbert sank down in his doorway to rest. Herbert was proud of himself for not only surviving a fight with a werewolf pack, but winning the fight too.
Herbert’s farm had taken relatively little damage and the rain washed away almost all of the blood, so the only work now, was cleaning up the bodies. Instead of burying them right away, he put them off in a large pile outside of his farm. He would leave them there for a day as a warning to any would be intruders and providing proof of his battle, so he could brag to other farmers. The pile of werewolf bodies stayed out just long enough for word to spread of Herbert’s harrowing experience.
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