The Hero of Nessics

Chapter 1 - The Wolfs Bane

Chapter 1

The Wolfs Bane

            IN THE FIEF OF NESSICA, ON A COLD, WINTERY NIGHT, KING LOTHO SCANNED THE GIANT CASTLE IN WHICH HE RULED, THROUGH THE WINDOW OF HIS GIGANTIC CHAMBERS. Nessics was quiet, calm, nothing out of the ordinary. The fief of Nessics would be quiet at this time of night. Just the way the King liked it. Besides the wolves howling in the forest of Redwood, he thought it was the perfect night.

          Nessics was surrounded by a huge forest known as Redwood. The forest was filled with wildlife, plenty of game, plenty of trophies. King Lotho stood there watching his fief for no apparent reason. He enjoyed the smell and coldness of the breeze as it blew on his face. He could hear the crackling of maple wood as it burned in the fireplace. He loved the smell of burning maple.

          Lotho turned to examine his room, admiring many of his game trophies. They were hung on walls above the fireplace, above the gigantic wooden doors that proved as both an entrance and an exit. Then moving from his trophies he admired his many battle weapons. Two broadswords hung between the fireplace and the head of a boar. 

          Looking up at the boar, King Lotho thought to himself that that must have been the biggest boar he has ever killed and probably the biggest one he'd ever seen. Above the giant wooden doors, a wolves head hung. He remembered every detail when he killed the wolf. He remembered how the wolf had been terrorizing the community of Nessica and how the wolf had killed a poor farmer who had nothing to defend himself with besides a rake, shovel, and fork.

          Then the king and a posse made up of famers, merchants, and citizens filled with rage and armed with daggers, axes, swords, and bows, had propelled into the forest intent on killing the ravage beast. After two hours of looking, the posse got nowhere and Lotho had told the posse that they should divide into small groups of five or six and split up. After the posse dismembered and went in separate directions, he headed North with three of his best men.

          King Lotho was armed with a broadsword, a trustworthy dagger, and his bow. His three best men where armed with battle-axes and spiked javelins. After an hour of searching the group discovered the wolves’ den. The den was forged in the side of a hill, opposite of where the wind blew. Surrounding the den were bones of both animals and humans. King Lotho gradually knocked an arrow to his longbow and was ready to fire if necessary.

          Lotho then caught a glimpse of a dead farmer. His body was being preserved by the winter snow but the stench was still noticeable. Almost at the same time behind him, he heard the scream of one of his soldiers. As the King turned he pulled the drawstring of his bow all the way back only to see the wolf drag the struggling soldier over the hill into the forest, the soldier’s yells fading as he was drug farther and farther away. The king’s heart beat furiously as adrenaline pumped through his veins.

          The king wondered if his soldier was dead or was alive, but he could no longer hear the screams of the soldier. He wondered if the wolf was far or near when, as the King stepped toward the hill, the wolf leapt out of the forest to his right, latching onto one of the remaining soldiers. The king spun around too quickly, not thinking to aim, letting go of the arrow that was knocked to the longbow. The king fell back and hit a tree, falling to the ground and also sending the bow flying out of his hands, and hitting the ground with a thud. The arrow missed its target and grazed the top of the wolf’s head. Even though he was grazed by the arrow, the wolf latched onto the left shoulder of the soldier, who was hollering in pain.

          The soldier, still gripping his lance, slowly raised it up to jam it into the head of the wolf, but the wolf quickly threw the soldier against a nearby tree. The soldier hit the tree; most likely breaking both his back and his neck on impact and fell to the ground limply. The last soldier tried to jab his lance into the stomach of the beast, but the wolf turned around and the lance got caught in the shoulder instead. The wolf jumped up and raised his paw, hitting the soldier with deadly force, leaving him unconscious.

          With the soldiers out of the way, the wolf turned his head toward the King and they stared at each other wondering what would happen next. The wolf howled and bolted toward the King. The King jumped up and rolled toward his longbow, picking it up, knocking an arrow, pulling back the cord and then letting the arrow fly. The arrow struck the beast in the chest, but the wolf kept running towards him. The King knocked another arrow, pulled back the cord, and let it fly, striking the wolf in the chest again. He completed this maneuver twice more, both arrows sticking the same place.

          The wolf got close, hitting the longbow with his giant paw and watching it as it flew. But the King was quick. He unsheathed his heavy broadsword, and as the wolf stood up on his hind legs to try and hit the King, the King dodge the wolf, ducked, rolled under the beast, made an underhand thrust, and sliced the wolf's stomach. It howled in pain as blood and life gushed from its soul. 

          King Lotho quickly turned to see how much damage he inflicted on his opponent and when he saw the blood gushing from the beasts wound, he smiled. His smile faded when the wolf bolted at him again. Now the King turned the blade around to where the point of the broadsword touched the ground, and as the beast kept running, leaving a blood trail, Lotho raised the sword, hilt above his head. The broadsword went over the wolf's head and he jammed the blade right between the shoulder blades of the beast. But before he could admire his handy work, the wolf rammed him, sending the King over the wolf’s body, and hitting the ground hard.

          As the king lay on the ground, he looked up to see the ravaged beast. The broadsword was still lodged between the wolf's shoulder blades. He saw blood slowly pouring out the wolf's nostrils and mouth, but the wolf would not give up. The wolf bolted toward the king again. The King could not believe it with his own eyes, but he knew he had to kill the beast, even if it meant risking his own life.

          So, slowly the king stood up, noticing that he was injured. He felt great pain in his left arm and limped on his right leg, but he could not let injuries defeat him. So, calmly, he pulled out his trustworthy, 18 in dagger. And as the beast came within four feet of the King, Lotho leapt on the wolf's back, clutching the wolf's oversized ears in his left hand and the 18 inch dagger in the right. He raised the dagger over his head, and with great strength Lotho jammed the dagger into the wolf's artery, pulling it out and watching blood squirt out of the side of the beast’s neck. But the wolf still would not go down.

           Seeing that the beast refused to surrender, the King repeatedly started stabbing the beast in the side of the neck and gripping the dagger, and piercing the animal in between its skull and its spine, severing the brain stem. The wolf's head hung limply and then his body crashed to the ground, sending the king flying, leaving one dead and one unconscious.

          An hour later the posse tracked the King down. They found him unconscious with a deep gash on his left arm and an injured right leg caused by being rammed by the massive beast. The posse also found the dead body of the soldier that had been thrown against the tree and the surviving soldier that had attempted to spear the beast. All he had suffered was a broken nose and bruised face. The posse retrieved all of the king’s weapons, besides the arrows, which were broken. His long bow was not harmed or damaged in any way and was perfectly fine. Later, when the king was conscious, he engraved the word "SLAYER" into the longbow.

* * * *

The wolf had been so large, that when skinned, the king had two rugs made out of its pelt. The king gave the rugs to the families of the soldiers who had fought alongside of him. The King kept the wolf's head as a trophy and decided to hang it over the doorway of his chambers.

The King shrugged the story aside and sat down and poured himself a glass of ale. He then laid back in his chair, drank the cup of ale and admired the warmth of the fireplace and the taste of the beer.