Villagers whispered from their doorways and their fields as Casser and Lenn passed by. He wore his armor, as he did every day, though today he carried his shield and spear. He’d been doing it since they returned from the woods. His three men did the same, though they were not as fully equipped, having only mail shirts and leggings.

Their gazes were fixated on the forest line, each trying to make out any movements or odd figures. They didn’t have time to focus on the villager’s rumors or gossip. Rather, they didn’t have the patience for it. The forest was dangerous, hiding away dark things, things they were tasked with protecting the village from. Still, there was nothing that he could see. Trees, trees, the occasional squirrel or bird, and more trees.

“Don’t think they followed us,” Lenn said. The man needed to shave, his mustache slowly encroaching over his lips, his beard beginning to reach his chest, but no one had said anything. A poor choice on their parts. Lenn wouldn’t do it until someone said something.

“Not gonna risk it. You saw’em.” Lenn remained quiet at that, then changed the subject.

“When do we get some reinforcements?”

“They aren’t sending any.”

“Aren’t sending any? Do they mean to have us dead?” It was a possibility.

“Don’t know. But if we see another one, we leave, villagers be damned.” He didn’t care to say it, but it was the truth. He’d leave behind a hundred men to get some distance from those things.

The conversation lulled once again. The sun was beginning to fall from the sky, which meant there was still a ways to go. Bronel would have first watch tonight, a fact Casser was thankful for. This assignment had been wearing at him too long.

“Stop.” Lenn halted at the words, head turning to where Casser was looking. He swore he could hear him swallow. A bit past the forest line, behind a wide tree, it stood. Half of its body poked out, its horns raised to the sky, its eyes pointed at them. “Call for backup, I’ll hold it back.”

He stepped forward, shield raised and spear directed at the beast as he searched for more of them, each time moving his eyes back on it. It moved, first stepping out in full from behind the tree, then walking towards him. It looked bigger and bigger with each step, not once slowing down even as Lenn yelled for Bronel and Jof.

It was a monster, an abominable split between man and goat that carried a large wooden branch in hand. Casser could hear yelling and the clanging of metal from the village as Bronel and Jof ran to them. As it approached, it sped its movements, lifting the branch behind its head and swinging down on him.

It struck his upraised shield, the blow forcing his body down as it reverberated through him. Casser thrusted out with his spear in return, piercing its abdomen, only for the beast to swipe it with its massive arm, snapping the wooden handle. Recoiling, Casser tossed aside the handle and drew his sword.

The blow was too heavy, and as another came from the side Casser could barely hold his feet to the ground. He didn’t both counter attack, the beast having backed away after his own attack. Lenn fell in beside him, spear and shield at the ready, but the beast only moved to the side, forcing them to turn with it in a circular manner.

One foot forward, then the next, Casser approached the beast, waiting. It swung, missing as he sidestepped and moved in with his blade, slicing at a furred leg. The beast grunted as it back-stepped, branch swinging to keep him away. Casser could see Bronel and Jof coming from behind it, something it seemed to sense as well as it leapt toward the forest line.

They arrived with shields up and spears pointed, Lenn quickly moving to their side to form a spiked wall. “Spread out and surround it!” Casser ordered. He did the same, circling around to cover one side. The beast caught on, slowly inching toward Casser. “Smart bastard.” They had it surrounded, but the creature swiped at Casser once again, knocking him to his feet.

It stood atop him, branch striking against his shield repeatedly. The others closed in, thrusting out with their spears. It dodged them, stepping away as they stood between it and him.

“You okay?” Bronel asked.

“Arm’s broken.” Bone wasn’t poking through, but it hurt, and looked off besides. He stood again, sword in hand, and retreated a bit, his broken arm holding up his shield and sending every signal of pain it could to make him stop. He wouldn’t, though. Better a lost arm than a lost life.

Two of them circled around again while Lenn remained between him and the beast. It ran forward, branch low, swiped up. Lenn sidestepped, spear thrusting again into the beasts abdomen, a gush of blood pooling out. From behind, Jof and Bronel leapt in, their own spears piercing its flesh.

Casser moved then, approaching quickly from the unarmed side of the beast and thrusting his blade up high, only barely slicing through the creature’s throat, a rain of blood descending from the wound. They all stepped back, the creature falling loosely to the ground.

“Think it’s dead?” Jof asked.

“Better fucking be,” Lenn said.

“Stab it again to be sure,” Casser ordered, each of them stabbing at it a few more times. It didn’t move even as new holes were formed in its body, its blood spilling out into a giant puddle of brownish-red. “Good enough,” he said.

They stood around the beast, each one looking down at its corpse. It was big. There was no other way to put it. It stood half again as tall and wide as any of them, its limbs as thick around as a child’s waist and hands large enough to wrap around a mans head.

“Excuse me, sir!” They turned to the call, a villager jogging their way. He stopped at the sight of the fallen beast, falling a step back. “Is it dead?”

“It is,” Casser responded, and the man approached with cautious steps. He stopped some distance away, gaze fixated, then spoke.

“A man has come to the village and would like to speak with you.”