"I'm lupine, clearly," the man-wolf sighed, extending his tongue to lick a deadly claw and turn the next page of the book he was reading.

"I said halt, foul beast!" the hero repeated, the flat bit of metal shaking in her hands.

"And I said I'm lupine, not fowl." He paused to glance over his spectacles at the tiny hero. "Oh, wait. You're just being rude, is that it?"

The hero swallowed her fear. "I... I have come to slay evil, to protect my village!"

"Uh huh." The wolf folded his glasses and put them on a shelf. "And I suspect somehow I'm a threat to you?"

The girl-pig shut her eyes and steeled her resolve. "Y-you're going to eat us all if I don't kill you!"

The wolf's mouth opened wide, revealing rows upon rows of sharpened teeth. The hero waited for a howl, perhaps a roar, before the jaw clamped down and straight through her armor.

Instead, the wolf laughed. "Eat you? Oh, sweetheart, you'd barely be an appetizer." He reached over and grasped the tiny hero with his claws, lifting the miniature creature off the ground.

"T-then what's been attacking us at night?" the girl-pig asked.

The man-wolf put the hero gently back upon the ground and adjusted her helmet. "Now that, my dear, sounds more like a potential dinner guest."

"Why isn't it glowing?"

"Please don't kill me, I keep to myself and have not once gone into your town; I just want to live by myself and collect chickens." The beast whined with fear, odd.

"What are you talking about, you've been taking sheep, and there's at least three children missing because of you."

"You have the wrong person, I'm just a peaceful hermit. Also what were you talking about with your glowing sword, that thing is dull as a rock, I'd get it checked out by a blacksmith.

"But this is the place the old man with screams coming from his old cellar told me to come. Wait, he was the one..." Great, I messed up bad.

"You have to be the dumbest adventurer this side of Riverwood." Deserved.

"Sorry for the intrusion my good sir, I'll be on my way now, here's some gold as payment for the inconvenience." I need to get out of here and back to the old man."

r/Riverside_Guild

Shaun had tracked the reports of missing livestock and shepherds to the small mountain village of Vastok. He'd found some of the missing beasts penned up with the villagers' own livestock, but the villagers claimed they'd been found wandering along the trails that wound up the mountainside.

He had no reason to doubt them, for the gory scene he'd witnessed around the shepherd's hut down in the valley was the work of a monster, not of mere thieves. If the monster was what he thought it was, he could easily believe that the surviving flock had been driven up the trail by primal terror.

The village headman, a narrow-eyed gaffer named Arlan, seemed to see his presence as an affront to the reputation of the tiny community, and told him that if it was a monster he sought, he'd find none in Vastok.

He did, however, provide Shaun with one useful bit of information: some Vastok folk said there was a huge shaggy wolf, a loner without a pack, that lived in a cave a few miles outside the village, where none dared venture.

Arlan wasn't sure he believed it, himself, but the village set watchmen at night bearing spears and torches, just in case. Perhaps, the old man opined, the beast had decided to try its luck among the less watchful valley folk?

Common spears would hold no terror for the thing that Shaun suspected was roaming the region, but a burning torch swung at it would give it pause, perhaps. It was worth checking out, in any case.

He left the village, and hiked to the cave.

When he came to mouth of the cavern, it's entrance half-hidden in behind a screen of scraggly pines, he immediately saw signs of his quarry. His sharp eyes spotted a mix of gnawed animal bones, torn sacks, and broken crockery around the cave entrance -- the litter he'd expect from a creature that was both man and beast.

He lit a torch to light his way, and then drew his sword. Common weapons could not harm the monster he hunted, but his blade Rivenstar was no common weapon. It was not made of steel, but was forged of enchanted silver, alloyed with metal from a fallen star.

The holy sword's blade became razor sharp and glowed like the star that had birthed it when in the presence of evil, and it sliced through the dark power that protected monsters from mortal steel as easily as it cleaved their flesh.

Armed with this instrument of divine vengeance, he walked boldly forward into the cave. He followed the winding passage that led out the large entrance cavern, as it wormed it's way deeper into the rock, his eyes searching every shadow.

As he emerged into a larger chamber inside the cave system, a large shaggy gray shape blurred past him, into a side passage. He gave chase, and almost stumbled right into a...bear trap? The thing set traps in it's lair? Proceeding more carefully, he avoided two more bear trap, and skirted around a pit trap lined with sharpened stakes.

Finally, he burst out into another wide chamber, holding his torch aloft. There in the corner, the hackles on its broad back bristling, the creature crouched and snarled, baring long canines. It's overall shape was like that of an enormous man, save for it's legs, which bent like a wolf's, and instead of paws it had clawed hands on its forelimbs. Its head was horrific blend of man and wolf, that glared at him with lambent golden eyes.

It lunged forward, but Shaun warded it back with the torch. He scowled, and raised his blade to strike....

...then he paused. Rivenstar did not burst into light, and its edge did not grow keen.

"Wulver," he whispered, staring at the creature in amazement. "You're no werewolf, you're a Wulver."

The creature looked startled.

"You...know of me?" it growled, uncertainly.

Shaun slowly lowered his sword. "Yes. Of your kind, at least. I know you Wulver are not evil by nature -- unlike the bedeviled Werewolves."

"Few ordinary humans can see any difference between us." the Wulver snarled.

Shaun held up his still darkened blade. "Perhaps. But Rivenstar shines against evil, yet sheds no light on you. To merely have a fearful appearance is no crime. My blade does not condemn you, so neither do I."

He sheathed his sword, and the Wulver's golden eyes widened in surprise. It had clearly not expected that.

"Why do you guard your lair with traps, Wulver?" Shaun asked, curiously. "Protection against the villagers?"

"Aye, human, they come hunting me, sometimes. But I confound them with my snares, and with my knowledge of these caves," the Wulver rumbled.

Shaun sighed, his mouth pressing into a grim line. "I see. They hate you, because they think you're a monster."

The Wulver looked surprised again. He shook his shaggy head. "No, human. They hate me because I'm not."

/./././

Several minutes later, Shaun emerged from the cave entrance, the Wulver beside him. After what the Wulver -- whose name was Harreth, he'd learned -- had told him, he wasn't surprised to find Arlan and several of the villagers waiting for them there.

"Well," Arlan sneered. "It seems the worthless runt isn't even up to the challenge of taking down the weakest of prey -- despite our practically gift-wrapping it for him."

Shaun drew his sword, and extended it towards Arlan and the villagers. They cursed and flinched back as it burst into light in their presence. "I am no one's prey, monster. And by the Divine, you will trouble neither the Wulver nor the valley any more, after this night."

Arlan growled, flashing teeth that elongated into fangs in a blink, his eyes turning yellow and luminous. Around him, the other villagers he'd brought with him began to change, as well.

"Stay behind me." Shaun advised the Wulver, setting his stance.

"No..." Harreth growled. He crouched beside Shaun, baring his fangs, as the werewolves of Vostak assembled before them, hatred and hunger in their eyes.

"I am done hiding!" the Wulver roared.

 The Wolfman shook cowardly and let out a soft whimper, and Sir Arnold paused..a look of confusion crossing over his face. The townsfolk behind Arnold gasped as he stepped closer to it, lowering the sword ever so slightly. Surely, this had to be the foul beast that had been eating their goats and ravaging their farms for the last six weeks. But his sword never lied, and this creature looked petrified of him. "Speak creature! 
 So we understand what your true intentions are!" The Wolfman gazed at him warily then stood up to its full height. It was still shaking, and as it spoke, its deep burly voice trembled. "Me....s-s-sorry." It sputtered out, and everyone gasped again, shock and awe filled the crowd as it suddenly broke down crying. 
 "Just wanted to pet goats. Not eat! Me not the monster!" Arnold stood there slackjawed as the Wolfman buried its head in its hands."What sort of trickery is this?" He asked, still unsure of whether to believe what he was hearing or not. 
  "No trick, please no hurt me." Arnold sighed then looked out across the sea of people. "What do you all want me to do?! It's clearly not a threat, and I'm not gonna stab it! I don't want its blood on my sword!"
   Everyone glared angrily at him, and people began to shout things like "kill it anyway" and "it deserves to die" before the Wolfman spoke up again. "Me not an 'it!' My name Rod!" Arnold looked between Rod and the townspeople, drawing nearer. Then he did the one thing no one would have expected. 
   He turned, drew his sword on the mob, then looked at his newfound friend as his sword glowed brightly. "Well then, Rod, I suggest you RUN!"

Wolf Man: What?! But I didn't do anything!

Hero: Not you! The evil spirit hiding under you!

A shadow bursts from the floor underneath the wolf man, sending him tumbling into the lower floor where he fell into a table filled with food. The chef was not impressed, for the food was supposed to be taken to the waiting food critic and will surely have dog hair all over them.

The sword suddenly glowed exceedingly bright.

Evil Spirit: Curses! How could I have been found out by this stupid sword-swinging buffoon!

Hero: I might be stupid, but you were not subtle.

Evil Spirit: How?! I am darkness personified! I move in the shadows! I hide in the dreams of men! I am the nightmares that plague your every sle--

Hero: It's midday. All I had to do was follow the large patch of darkness moving on the floor.

Evil Spirit: (silence)

Hero: (silence)

Wolf Man: Ow, I think I have soup in my ears!

Evil Spirit: Shit.

(It's been a bit since I last wrote, so please no hate.)

The wolf man chuckled.

"I guess that overgrown toothpick found another, eh?" His deep, almost growl-like voice rumbled through the air.

"What are you talking about?" The hero asked, the slightest bit of fear evident in their voice.

The wolf man laughed, sounding as if the air itself was torn in the process. "The stories all say that it is missing for hundreds of years before it chooses a hero, when it's only been gone a year at most."

The hero's eyebrows shoot up. "But how-"

"Because it tampers with the world's memory. Makes people think the last hero died in some grand battle long ago." He sighs. "Honestly, I was one of the lucky ones. Took five years for the transformation to begin, and I got to keep my humanity afterwards." He snarls, his hackles raised like a furious hellhound.

"Wait, what? What are you saying?!"

"I'm saying that 'the legendary sword's is a cursed blade. The razor always chooses a hero, only to transform them into a monster sometime after a year has passed, change the world's memory of them, and then rip their sanity away." The wolf man looks the hero in the eyes. "They almost always become one of the first evils the next hero must defeat. I'm lucky, because I'm still me. Means the blade won't label me as evil, since even now I do heroic shit when I can."

"Are you always this... Crass?"

"What do you think, kid?"

The hero huffs in annoyance. "I may be younger than you, but I'm not a kid. My name is Alex."

The wolf man chuckled lightly. "Such an ambiguous name must help hide your identity at times. After all, I STILL can't tell what you are, aside from human."

"Hey! I might not be the most developed, but I'm still a-"

"I could care less about what's in your pants, shortstack, as long as you're willing to help me with something." The wolf man slowly pulls a scroll from his cloak, setting it on the table as the hero sits across from him.

"What... Is that?" They ask.

"Info regarding the forging of the Razor. Best lead I have towards destroying the damn thing." He grins, wider than any other in this conversation.

"YOU WANT TO-"

He claps a hand over the hero's mouth. "Shut it, unless you want to die!" He growls out in a whisper. "If the church hears that someone wants to destroy the damn thing, I'll never have another damn moment of peace. Just pretend that I'm looking for a way to make it stronger when we're in cities or towns. That is, if you'll help me."

They bite their lip in thought, before sighing. "Will I be affected by the curse if we... Y'know?"

He laughs. "Who knows?! That's half the fun of doing this. I've got some theories, but we'll have to take a look at where this hint leads to figure out the truth. Besides, if it still affects you, I'll do my best to keep you sane when you change."

A deep sigh escapes the hero's lips. "Fuck it, I'm in. Where to?"

(Not quite sure why, but I felt the urge to make most of the hero's identity pretty ambiguous, as I'm sure you noticed.)

The blade imbued with the spirit of an ancient monster hunter would not cut anything the spirit of the monster hunter deemed innocent.

The cursed one in the corner whimpered and pleaded for their life. The blade began to vibrate and soon the apparition of the ancient monster hunter materialized before the new wielder.

"You, sorry excuse for a monster hunter!" The spirit said pointing at the hunter.

"Can't you see this one is cursed?"

"But it is a monster!" Howled the hunter.

"No, cursed does not mean monster. You must endeavour to cure this one of their curse or my blade will never pierce flesh again."

The hunter relented and sheathed the blade. After, this he offered his hand to wolven one.

[Evil. Perspective.]

"You shall threaten this town no longer!" The hero drew his blade as the hulking beast in a white trench coat huddled in the corner with his back toward the hero and the rest of the inn. The wolf-man stared down at the corner and the top of his head was covered with dirty blonde fur. The hero held his sword firm while the best did its best to ignore him. And, he couldn't help but notice the distinct lack of glowing power.

Since the wolf wasn't looking anyway, the hero brought his blade closer to examine it. The sharp edge was gone and replaced by the dull wood of a practice sword.

"Huh?" he voiced his surprise and the wolf-beast stiffened.

"I don't want any trouble," he spoke with a low; but youthful grumbling tone. He slowly raised his hands in the air to show he meant no harm. "I'm going to change forms...," he said. The hero didn't quite understand what he meant at first until the beast began to shrink.

"You're... human?" the hero asked. It made sense as far as his weapon; he'd never known humans to be as evil as the creatures of darkness. He relaxed his weapon; but, not his guard. The now much smaller human nodded as he turned around with his hands still in the air. "... and a kid??"

The stranger only reached the hero's shoulder and he looked as young as 14 or 15 summers. He was tan with a mop of curly dirty blonde hair reaching his shoulders.

"Yeah," he nodded. "My name's Ace," he gently lowered his hands, then reached forward with one to offer a handshake.

"I am.. the hero of this town..," the hero accepted the greeting. He wasn't surprised at the teen's firm grip. He had a sudden insight after the exchange. "You're not... the same creature that has been assaulting this town are you?"

"What?" Ace looked surprised for a moment, then he shook his head with a grin. "No, this is my first time," he answered. Thinking back on it, this wolf was obviously different from the other... from the others? As he tried to picture the real threat, the hero had several different images pop into his head. All of them wore different clothing or armor; but, Ace was the first one he could say for sure he'd never seen before. The white trenchcoat made him stand out.

"What brings you to my town?" the hero asked.

"I'm on a quest," Ace replied.

"You're an adventurer?" the hero finally relaxed. If Ace was an adventurer, he would have had no trouble dispatching him. He felt instant respect for Ace trying to resolve things peacefully. And his white coat obviously painted him as one of the good guys.

"I am," Ace nodded.

"That's a relief," the hero had never heard of a werewolf adventurer that he could remember; but he assumed they had to exist. He wandered to the closest table and gestured at one of the seats for Ace. He sat across and rested his wooden sword on the table.

"Tell me about your quest, Adventurer. Perhaps we can help each other; there's a troublesome wolf in the area I'd like your help with."

"I appreciate it," Ace nodded as approached the chair. But, he reached into his coat before he sat down. And he placed a gleaming white shotgun on the table. "There's an item I'm trying to recover. It's supposed to be a challenging fight; but, I think I found a shortcut," he said.

The hero wasn't listening though, he was intrigued by Ace's weapon. It was so white and glossy that at first glance it could be mistaken for a child's toy.

"That is a curious shotgun...," he commented.

"Would you like to inspect it?" Ace happily handed over his gun and the hero didn't hesitate to accept it. It was light as a bundle of sticks. It still felt solid and well-crafted even if it wasn't as heavy as the guns he was used to holding. Not that he had much experience with firearms; his magic sword was all he needed.

"It's...is it real?" he asked.

"Real deadly," Ace chuckled with a nod.

"Where did you get such a magnificent weapon?" he asked as he offered it back to Ace. The teen didn't accept it right away.

"Same place I got the quest," he shrugged. "I can get another one easy enough. If you like it so much... how about a trade?" he asked. Ace's eyes landed squarely on the wooden sword.

"I couldn't...," the hero replied after a moment of deliberation. He wanted to; but, the simple fact that Ace 'could get another one' meant his artifact was the more rare item.

"Ah well, I tried...," Ace shrugged as he reached for the shotgun in the hero's hand. Then, several things happened at once. The hero heard a growl; but, his reflexes were too slow.

Ace leaped from his seat and pushed against the hero with the shotgun he was holding. He was a blur of motion and by the time the hero's mind caught up he was already on his back with an 8-foot-tall werewolf in a white coat stepping on his chest.

Ace held rested his shotgun on the hero's chest as he held up the glowing sword. It now had a sharp, silver edge and was surrounded by brilliant white light.

"WHAT??" the hero was confused. Why didn't the sword warn him? "How??" Ace shrank back into his human form; but, he still kept pressure on the hero to keep him down.

"So, I read the quest text and it's funny," Ace grinned. "It only warns you in the presence of evil because it senses "evil intentions", he said. "I didn't have any until you wouldn't give me the sword."

The hero struggled to push the now-lighter teen off him. As he thrashed around, he noticed all the inn's patrons sitting in the usual spots, eating their usual meals and ignoring the commotion.

"RUN!" he shouted. "Why isn't anyone running??"

"You know what, I'm not really a bad guy," Ace shook his head. Even the sword seemed to agree as its glow dimmed slightly.

"I'll even give you a chance to get out of this with your life; but, without the sword of course," he chuckled. The hero struggled again but made no progress. "I just need you to answer one question for me," Ace said. "If you have an answer."

"What is it?" the hero asked. Ace leaned down to make sure the question was clear.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"I'M THE HERO!" Ace chuckled and shook his head. The hero heard Ace say something before the shotgun fired.

"Obviously not."

***
Thank you for reading! I’m responding to prompts every day. This is story #1872 in a row. (Story #062 in year six.). This story is part of an ongoing saga that takes place at a high school in my universe. It began on August 22nd and I will be adding to it with prompts every day until May 26th. They are all collected in order at this link.

The hero looks at his blade, and falters. "Huh?! It's not-" he slaps the the side of the blade "work dammit!"

The wolf man looks up at the hero "wh-?"

"Silence beast! Just, give me a second!" He points the dull blade back at the creature, but the blade still doesn't do anything "agh! What's going on?! Why isn't it working?! What did you do?!"

"I-I didn't do anything! I swear!"

"Then why is my blade so dull?! It's supposed to sharpen in presence of evil!"

"E-evil? What? Can you not just-.... sh-sharpen it?"

"No, you can't just 'sharpen it'! It won't work"

"Can I try?" The wolf man slowly stands up

"What?! No!" He brings the dull blade down on the wolf man, causing him to stagger backwards

"Owww! What did I do to you?! To anyone?!"

The hero stops, lowering his blade "you uh-... ummm... you uh, scared people?"

The wolf scoffs "You're the first thing even remotely person shaped I've seen in the past year catboy. You sure this isnt some bias since im a wolf?"

"Um, yeah-! Or uh... n-not really, actually... sorry"

"Idiot" the wolf man scoffs and walks off

Some question the path I now tread. Some call me murderer and say I have lost myself to evil. Some say I have gone too far or even mad. I record here the moment I did not go mad, but the moment I realized the truth of the world.

“You shall not prey upon the good people of this town any longer evil beast!”

I stood in a doorway of the dim candle lit room, the
fireplace in the corner, sending cascading shadows to dance around the large space as though the shadows themselves were watching this moment and judging my
actions. In the corner huddled what was not a man and also not a full beast, but some twisted culmination of the two in a horrific bonding of flesh, fur, and deadly limbs ending in sharp razor edges.

“I am an adventurer sent here on a mission to destroy the evil that has been plaguing this land, and it seems I have found my prey. Prepare yourself beast of evil to be sent back to the depth of the underworld from whence your curse has been born” I proudly declared as I reached for my blade.

The blade of Azrath was an artifact blessed by the God of judgment herself to be used in slaying the monsters of the world. In the face of evil, it burns with the luster of the sun and gains the sharpness of a dragons tongue, able to pierce any foe. It has been the deciding factor in all my harshest battles, and time and time again has not let me down. Until now.

The creature stood, imposing in his size. Blood from the deer it had been eating dripped from its maw and hand-like paws as it slowly stepped toward the hero. The hero faltered for a moment before thrusting the blade toward the beast. To his shock it simply bounced off the Man-wolf's chest, both looked down, the creature with a bizarre look of amusement, the hero with a combination of disbelief and horror. "Brave... Foolishhhh."

The hero gazed up stunned as a gutteral voice reminiscent of a human escaped the creature's mouth. The creature stepped forward as the Hero stepped back. Growing horror welling up. He was doomed. No more than his 17th year and he feared he wouldn't see his 18th. "B-Back. I.."

His voice trailed off as the creature continued forward, his steps silent on the stone of the cave. Silently the wolf stopped, the Hero's back pressed to the wall of the cave. To his right, a deep drop into a chasm in the cave. To his left, another wall, and just beyond the Wolflike creature, the moonlit entrance, and something.. Big flying towards the cave. He recognized it almost instantly. A dragon. Amethyst in color, and growing larger and larger. He gazed at it for longer than he realized. Such majestic, fierce creatures. For a moment he felt almost glad he'd gotten to see one before he died. It was all too long before he realized that the beast had yet to make any move. It simply stood staring, a growling breath the only noise as it inhaled and exhaled. Silently it sniffed at the air. "Korrr.."

The hero was shaken from his stupor as he glanced at the beast. "Wh-Wha?"

With a dull thud, the dragon landed at the entrance. It stepped forward with a fierce growl, fangs bared as it approached. "Stop... Friend."

The beast said as the Dragon halted. The dragon and Manwolf seemed to stare at each other for a moment before a presence made itself known in the Hero's mind. "Who are you? Why are you here?"

The hero faltered for a moment before speaking "Ansin. Son of Malik. I.. I am here to destroy the creature responsible for all the deaths in our cities and villages. I've been tracking this creature here."

The dragon stepped forward. "Then he is right. You are brave, but incredibly foolish. You see, we are Rider and Dragon. While my Rider is the same as the creature responsible, we ourselves were tracking it. With the same goal as you."

The Hero went wide-eyed. Suddenly it made sense. The Blade of Sundri's Light hadn't worked because the Beast was pure of heart. He was a Rider, a guardian of the land, blessed by all 6 divines. "I.. I didn't...."

"Obviously.. We do not blame you. But I must ask... Why? For what purpose do you intend to destroy this creature?"

Ansin's head dropped before he spoke. "My father... That... THING killed him. Simply because he was tilling the fields after dark. I heard his screams... When I made it he was already dead and the beast... He did this."

Silently he removed his tunic reavealing a deep set of slash marks across his chest from his shoulder down to just below his belly button. "I shall not stop until the creature's head is mounted on my wall... I cannot..."

"Nor will we... But we will not find the beast until the next full moon. Until then, you should rest. The sun is soon to rise. It will be impossible for us to find him now. We will find the creature together, and you shall have your vengeance."

Ansin bowed in respect to the Dragon and his rider. "Very well.. But I must insist I continue with you. I cannot take this on faith alone. I must see the beast die. If not take it's life myself."

A hand lay upon his shoulder as he turned the beast now a man with long flowing brown hair and beard standing before him. "And so you shall. Besides, that weapon of yours will be of great use to our goal. Now, put your mind at ease and let us sleep. We'll look further tonight.."

With that the three settled into the cave letting sleep take them as sunlight slowly crested the entrance.

"Halt, foul beast! You shall threaten this town no longer!" Yelled the ^wannabe hero. He threatened the 8-foot wolfman now huddled in the corner with his Sacred Sword™, a relic that should light up and sharpen itself when faced with evil.

The ^wannabe hero's Sacred Sword™ was... not doing that. It gleamed with all the light a candle yet to be lit, and was roughly as as sharp as a baseball bat.

Carla sighed and went to stand between the hero and the cowering wolfman, she drew herself up to her (unimpressive) height, pushed a stray hair that had escaped her tight hair bun out of her face, with her 'Manager' name tag displayed on the front of her uniform.

"Sir, this is a Wendy's," Carla said as she put her fists on her hips. "Pack up and go home before I call the cops."

The ^wannabe hero sputtered, "But, but, it's a monster!"

The wolfman's ears somehow managed to press even flatter against his head, and Carla could hear a very quiet whine.

"I'm doi-"

"YOUNG MAN," Carla's voice cracked the air like a whip, "That is quite enough out of you. You will leave my establishment at once. I will not allow you to treat people in my establishment like this, if you are looking for an easy mark for your first quest you picked the wrong restaurant."

The ^wannabe hero didn't understand why he was so afraid of this tiny middle-aged woman. But afraid he was, and he slowly lowered his Sacred Sword™ with a bewildered look on his face.

Carla glared at him, "Is this what they're teaching at that worthless Hero Academy these days? To make assumptions based on appearance? To threaten innocent people because you didn't do your research and gotten your facts straight first? Shame on you!"

The ^wannabe hero shrunk in on himself, then mumbled a quick apology and slunk away.

Carla sighed as she placed a hand on Jerry's shoulder where he still sat against the wall. "I'm sorry, I-"

She stopped as Jerry spoke up, "I can't do this anymore, I can't, I can't." He broke off as tears started choking his voice. He reached for Carla, who hugged him back. Her own face was crumpled in sorrow. For some time they sat like that.

"I'm here. I'm here. I'll always be here for you." Carla murmured softly to Jerry. She wished she could say it was okay, that everything would be okay someday, but she couldn't. It wasn't okay, and she didn't know if things would get better. A world with real magic and real monsters, and this is what people waste their energy on.

This wasn't the last time a would-be hero came to pick a fight, but several months later when Carla got hurt by a hero who decided he didn't need a sharp sword since a club worked perfectly fine, they took the settlement money and moved to the borderlands, where it was safer to be different.

Surprisingly, the ^wannabe hero actually reevaluated his life choices up to that point and eventually became a true hero, but that's another story.

“it’s broken” The Hero thought, “i forgot to charge the fucking thing last night” he strode up to beast and hacked through his mudded cloak; hacked through its matted fur, hacked through flesh and bone and sinew. guts slipped out and blood gushed up the walls and on The Hero’s face and royal surcoat, gifted by Sir Knight for that thing he did in the previous book. The beast gurgled out his last bloody breath as The Hero smashed his boot through skull and brains. The cacophony of gore did little to still the crowd in The Pub, aside from a few farm-boys staring from their cups, and the Bartender looking pretty pissed off. The Hero paid them no mind, and walked up to the bar and ordered a pint of mead, “no not that one, the one from the back if you don’t mind” The Hero wiped his forehead with the back of his sleeve, and then his sleeve on the back of a man slumped over the bar, oblivious. “and here’s extra for the clean up” The Bartender took the coin and explained that the Wolf-Man’s tab was ten thousand Royals, and The Hero had to pay. Tonight.

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