Donovan VanFleet led the horses into the stable, he herded the cows into the barn, and chased the goats into their pin. He wouldn't even let the guard dogs roam the vast ranch of the VanFleet estate. Before the sun set he secured them all and sent the help to their quarters. The sky was blood red, a simple yet daunting omen that had Donovan on edge that evening. With haste he went inside where his family was anxiously waiting. Donovan knew there was something more that was prowling the countryside than mere Wolves. As the VanFleet’s sat praying during a late evening supper they could hear the relentless pitter-patter of rain beating against the walls of their sizable home. The white noise echoed through the halls and into the dining chamber where they cheerlessly ate from a banquet of delicacies.

“Margaret, Darling, could you not slurp your food?” Donovan asked his youngest daughter politely. She grimaced and continued to slurp.

“Darling… Please.” He asked once again, and once again she continued to slurp.

“I said stop it!” Donovan hollard as he slammed his fist on the table, spilling a glass of red wine on his dining doublet. Everyone was startled, jumping out of their seats from fright.

“Honey...” His wife stammered.

“Dammit, this coat cost me a half day's work!” Donovan exclaimed. He nearly forgot all about the slurping as he began to dab a cloth against the doublet trying to pat most of the wine off of it. He looked up and his family was visibly upset. He sighed in shame.

“Im sorry, I lost my temper again.” He mumbled humbly to his family.

“It's ok papa, I love you.” Margaret gleefully rejoiced as she got up and hugged her father.

“Yes, me too Papa.” Added the middle daughter, Heather, as she got up and lovingly embraced him as well.

His eyes teared up as he wrapped his arms around his children.

“Oh, I'll never raise my voice to you girls again. I’ve just been so angry.” He lightly sobbed into their beautiful golden hair, bathing them with affectionate kisses. Donovan's wife looked upon them and couldn't help but shed a tear of joy.

Among the hollow pitter patter of rain echoing throughout the house a terrible pounding came banging from the front door. Donovan jerked his head from his daughter's yellow silky locks and quickly stood up. The young girl grabbed a hold of his waist in panic, squeezing tightly.

“Girls, go to your Mum. And be quiet.” Donovan muttered. They left his side and frantically rounded the table to their Mother. He quickly went along the table to the burning fireplace and grabbed the black fire iron, the end of which brandished two curving spikes. Donovan creeped through his house till he was close to the front door. The pounding on the door continued until an unfamiliar voice bleakly rang out, nearly drowned by the menotine of the falling rain.

“Hello? I’m looking for shelter. Please help!” The voice behind the door called out in between knocks. Donovan reached for the handle and lifted the Fire iron to strike. He opened the door only a crack.

“Who's there?” Donovan spoke up.

“Just a passerby. I was heading east when the rain caught me. I heard this was a safe place for me to stay?” The man loudly spoke trying to not be drowned out by the rain.

“Sorry but you can't stay here tonight.” Donovan quickly grunted.

“But sir, there's nothing down the road for miles either way… I’ll surely catch a cold and die with this rain. I’ll only stay the night, please!?” The Man pleaded desperately. Donovan knew the area well and his estate was the only shelter for many miles. He was no stranger to passersby and normally would offer them refuge with open arms, he had plenty to spare and his generosity was well known. As alert and on edge as he was, Donovan couldn't be responsible for this stranger's death, he would never be able to sleep at night.

“Hold your hands in the air…” Donovan ordered, the stranger raised his gangly arms up. Donovan slowly opened the door, light from inside the house poured out and revealed a hooded weathered old man who was wearing sopping wet rags, on his waist he was outfitted with a fancy steel longsword. Even though it wasn't uncommon for travelers to be armed Donovan wasn't taking any chances tonight.

“Your sword, take it off... and leave it against the house.” Donovan insisted.

“My sword sir? It’s my most valuable possession, It’ll surely rust out here in the rain…” The man sadly pleaded.

“Leave it or you won't be staying here tonight. That's my only offer, I'm sorry.” Donovan barked.

With a slight grumble the wanderer unbuckled his sword and rested it against the porch of the house, he then undid his woolen cloak flinging it off his shoulders and draped it over the sword. Donovan could clearly see the man now, he was in his late fifties and was wearing commoner clothes, and on his head was a shaggy mess of salt and pepper hair. He didn't recognise him, which was good. He knew many of the outlaws of the area and was relieved to know this man wasn't one of them.

“Please, come in. I’m Donovan VanFleet, this is my home.” Donovan spoke with some relief.

The stranger stepped inside, dripping wet from the downpour. Donovan out stretched his hand with hospitable fervor.

“...Kain, my name is Kain. Thank you for letting me in.” The Stranger beamed with delight as he shook Donovan's hand with healthy vigor, pleased to get out of the rain.

“Where are you from Kain?” Donovan asked, returning the handshake.

“A little North of the small Village Prem, nothing special like this Sir.” The stranger said.

“I’m from Prem! To tell you the truth I had the house built early in my youth and with a little work I turned it into a profitable Farm. I do pretty well for myself out here if I do say so. Here, Let me introduce you to my family.” Donovan said with an air of pride as he led the stranger through his spacious house.

They walked into the dinning hall where his family was still nervously sitting.

“Family, tonight we're going to have a guest. This is Kain, he was traveling east and got caught in the storm. He will be sleeping in the guest quarters tonight. Kain, these are my daughters, Margaret and Heather. And this is my lovely wife, Nesta.” Donovan proudly spoke as he pointed them out respectfully, each of them standing up as they were introduced.

“Good Evening Ladies” Kain greeted the woman on the other end of the room

"I have a daughter who's just about your age I imagine.” Kain said with a smile to Heather.

“This is truly a lovely home you have ma’am.” Kain complimented Nesta with a tip of his head.

“Thank you sir, would you care for something to eat? You arrived during super.” Nesta softly spoke.

“Thank you, I’m starved.” The stranger sat down at the opposite end of the table to the family and helped himself to the food that was laid out.

“This is superb cooking. Truth be told I have never had white bread before.” Kain joyfully stated as he sopped up the remainder of his first bowl of cold, overly seasoned, tomato puree with the palm size bread roll. After a few awkward moments Kain looked up and the whole family was silently eating, caught in a miasma of sadness.

“I’m sorry if I’m disturbing you, I can go to my room if you’d like?” The man softly spoke.

“No, it's not you. We have been overly cautious this week, and it's worn us thin. You see, the past four months our farm has been attacked by something from the woods; it butchers our livestock, it has mauled our dogs, and terrorizes the sanctity of my property.” Donovan lamented.

“Is it wolves, or a bear perhaps?” Kain asked curiously.

“No, that's just it… it's none of those things, because just last month it came… and took my eldest daughter from me. It came into my home and took her away... It opened the locked door… went to her room… and didn't leave anything left.” Donovan choked on his words as he said them. Nesta began to cry and fled to another room, the two little girls sobed and followed their mother.

“By the sun, how tragic! But I don't understand sir, why now? Why wouldn't you be afraid since the attacks began four months ago?” The stranger dryly asked.

“Because, it only happens during a full moon…” Donovan said with feeble understanding.

“And I Promise, when I catch whatever it is, I'm going to throttle it and drag it through all of the kingdoms!” The profitable farmer sneered behind gritted teeth as he clenched his fist till his knuckles were white.

“Humph, what do you know of keeping promises…?” The stranger challenged, an unsettling tone shift in his voice and posture.

“Excuse me?” Donovan said, confused why he was being attacked.

“Your daughter would never have died if you only knew how to keep Promises.” Kain hissed, spitting venom into Donovan's soul.

“The nerve!” Exclaimed Donovan who stood up with clenched fists.

“Sit down!” Kain shouted as he stabbed the table with a hidden knife from his boot. Donovan wasn't a slouch in a fight, but this man was more than a threat then he cared to risk. The stranger took the knife out of the table and laid it flat. He looked into Donovan's eyes and then around the room, admiring the spacious eating quarters.

“It really is a beautiful house you have…” Kain said, staring at the twisted metal chandelier above him. He began to rub the knife mark gently with his fingers, admiring the large stained oak table.

“What do you want with me and my family? What do you want…?” Donovan glowered, tense, hanging off the edge of his seat.

“A promise to pay your debts…” Kain began speaking before being cut off.

“I’ve paid my taxes to the county, the church, and the military! Check your books, hell, you can check mine!” Donovan bursted.

“How does one get such a lavish house in such a miserable time anyway? Didn't you say you were from Prem? I was lucky to see gold before I was fifteen… So, how does a simple farmer come across such wealth…” The stranger eccentrically wondered.

“If it's gold you want, I have plenty, so much gold that you won't be able to carry it out with an ox! It would take no time at all, just dont hurt me or my family!” Donovan babbled.

“That's your problem Donovan, you think so highly of your gold that you already doomed your family. The moment you had visions of wealth and riches, was the moment you traded the family you would have. And it would be the reason your daughter is dead...” The stranger's words scraped against Donovan's brain, racking it with a blurry insight of what was happening.

“What has that orange eyed cunt done with my daughter…” Donovan's face twisted and sneered at the stranger.

“Nothing. Donovan, do you recall the wording of your contract?” The stranger asked. Icy chills of fright were beginning to climb up his spine, freezing him in place.

“Yes, I’m supposed to sacrifice ten percent of what I grow and raise on my land, on a new moon, to the old ones of the woods. And I have since that dark day!” Donovan raised his voice, unable to understand why these terrible things were happening to him, he had complied to every request that was made of him these past twenty years.

“Ah, I see. So, the New moon of August this year, you sacrificed everything?” The stranger peered at Donovan.

“...No…” Donovan confessed, unblinking.

“I see…” The stranger whispered.

“But, I have been since. I was short on money and I had to sell more cattle than I'd liked… it was that or I'd run into trouble with the church. There must be some sort of reprieve or a pardon?” Donovan weakly tried to explain his situation.

“let me help you recount your Contract… ‘I grant Thee mastery over thine land and all in it. Thy earth will bend to thine will with prosperous fertility, and thine animals born in it will grow stronger than any before it. Ten percent of all thou created will be given as sacrifice to the gods of the forests on a dark sky, and in return, thine beasts of the forests will pine of hunger. If thou breaks thine binding, thou shall become a beast of the forest and spoil all...”

“With unnatural consumption…” Donovan quietly rasped in horror. “What does this mean Kain…” The man was visibly shaken. The strangers glare bored down on Donovan telling him all he needed to know.

“No, oh god no… id never…” Refused Donovan as he slowly brought his trembling hand to his mouth. Disgust wretched Donovan's heart into a million throbbing pieces.

“What can I... What is there to do…?” Bewailed Donovan, tears trickling down his cheeks.

“Nothing. But, you're going to come with me tonight, right away in fact. I'll let you say your farewells, I would want the same kindness.” The stranger empathetically stated.

“What if I refuse?” Donovan challenged, rubbing the tears from his eyes.

“It's either you come with me, or your daughters can witness your body on the table. Your choice.” And with that, the stranger gripped his knife. Donovan saw the blade flash in the candle light and didn't dare make a move, he couldn't bare the thought of his little girls clutching his corpse.

“Well, I never told my wife about any of this… and I don't think she would understand... Could we leave now, before they come back?” Donovan shamefully suggested.

The stranger nodded.

Donovan was a soggy mess of self loathing as he dragged himself quietly through his home toward the front door, he reached for his cloak.

“You won't need it” The stranger dreadfully assured, his single putrid green eye burning into Donovan's sanity.

Donovan walked through the large wooden door of his estate, dressed in his stained dining doublet. The stranger followed close behind, and before he shut the door he seized his sword.