Another attack, another robbery. This time it happened to the
miller.
It was already a pattern. During the full moon, everyone in your
village was going into hiding, bolting the doors and keeping some
silver, if their household posessed any, at hand’s reach in case the pack chose their home as their
next target.
They lived in an abandoned house in the forest, which they made
into their den a couple of months ago. The pack consisted of a few members, led by Rolf,
their alpha. You saw him a couple of times. Arrogant, hostile, walked
around the village as if he owned the place. Well… he kinda did. His
pack controlled everything and they took whatever they wanted from
the people, and they didn’t do it in a gentle manner.
But after you saw the millers wife tending to the deep slash
wounds on her husbands chest, from where one of the werewolves had
pushed him away and his claws cut into his flesh, you felt anger
boiling up in you.
Monsters and Villains 