Tolvar screamed as the raknar crested the hill. There had been no warning that the raknar would attack tonight, nor that they had such numbers. Darkness had been with the beasts once again, hiding them from sight as they crept up on the village.
He frantically shouted out to the other guards and villagers to get ready for the attack, but it seemed to be a fools hope that they would be able to repel them. They had no walls, only a handful of skilled fighters among the population. It was hopeless.
The screams of the dying filled the air, seeming to float up to the watch tower Tolvar was stationed in and hang there. He huddled down onto the platform and covered his ears with his hands to block out the sound. Nothing seemed to work. They were still there, sickening sounds of bones breaking and flesh being ripped apart.
“Run, run.” Tolvar whispered, rocking back and forth with his eyes closed. “Please, just run. Stop screaming. Stop screaming.”
The young man had just been hired on, his first week as an official guard. It was supposed to be a quiet town, just somewhere he could get some experience. A place to learn some skills with weapons. Where had the monsters come from? Why here? Why now?
Tears fell down his face, bow and quiver still at his side, unused. He had frozen up, failed everyone in this village in his moment of weakness and now he hid up in the watch tower like the coward he was.
It was hours before the sun rose in the sky. Tolvar was still huddled in the tower, screams replaying over and over in his mind. He only dared peer out upon the carnage once the sun was high in the sky and once he had he immediately regretted it. Corpses littered the square, the sun baking them steadily. The coppery smell of blood and the beginnings of rot were swept up to him on the spring breeze.
Tolvar leaned over further and emptied what little was left in his stomach. Once he was finished, he sunk back down and wept bitterly.