Chapter 1

Through out the story the point of view changes from young Stärk to that of Slag and his hellhound pack. Please enjoy. ☽ ☾ this Symbol means the point of view has changed.

A tiny village lay tucked into a small valley hidden near the Danube River by the depths of the Black Forest. Its inhabitants bustled about, going about their daily lives. The blacksmith was forging shoes for the farrier, the carpenter was mending a broken roof, the shepherd was tending to his flocks in the villages's only field, and the farmer was feeding his cattle at the edge of the forest. A young man named Stärk sat atop a hill overlooking the village. He wore a large ax at his hip. which told of his craft as a woodsman.

As Stärk looked out over the valley, he could see the village preparing for the oncoming festival. Since the harvest season was over and had passed without incident, a celebration was in order which was usually a week long. Stärk could smell the lambs and pigs being roasted over spits and ale being brewed. He smiled lightly, knowing that the festivities were about to begin. Standing, he took a brief glance back over his shoulder at the forest. He felt oddly uneasy, but he shrugged off the feeling and set off towards the village.

     ☽ ☾

Slag could feel his pack's impatience, even while they were encased in stone. Tonight was the night that the Hunt began. Once the moon rose and released them from their binds and they found the Sacrifice, then they would be free to hunt anything and everything that they wanted. Slag smiled mentally.

He couldn't wait to get started.

                                                                           

                                                                     ☽ ☾

Stärk ambled down the worn road in the crowded village. The sun was setting quickly, and twilight descended upon the valley. The torches that lined the road were being lit by the farmers' boy, Isaiah. The boy carried his torch proudly, happy to be giving an important duty. He passed Stärk without a word, though he did incline his acknowledgment. Stärk reciprocated the action before continuing on his way.

As he neared his house, Stärk heard someone call out his name. He stopped and turned, then smiled brilliantly. Kalin, one of the village's maidens, was making her way towards him.

"Evening, Stärk," she greeted, wrapping her arms around him in a warm embrace. His arms circled her waist, pulling her closer to him.

"Evening, Kalin," he murmured. She smiled and gave him a quick peck on the cheek before stepping away. Stärk noticed that she was wearing one of her finest dresses for the festival.

"I see that you're already ready for tonight," he commented. Her smile widened mischievously.

"And I see that you're not," she remarked. He chuckled.

"Well, I was on my way to get ready, but someone just so happened to interrupt me," he teased. She blushed, and he smiled.

"Oh. Then I guess I'll leave you to get ready, then," she said. Stärk's smile faltered and he sighed.

"Will I see you during the festival?" he asked. She nodded.

"I'll be here and there, but I'll find you after a while," she answered he nodded and she embraced him again. This time, he gave her a soft kiss before letting her go. Her expression softened and she smiled.

"Bye, love," he whispered. Her eyes searched his a moment before she replied.

"Bye," she murmured before turning and flitting away into the crowd. Stärk sighed again as he watched her go before continuing on to his house and getting ready for the festival.

                                                                  

      ☽ ☾

Slag's binds began to loosen as the night  fell upon their sanctuary. The stone

 he was encased in slowly began to heat up from the hellfire within Slag and turned into flesh. Fire began to lick at the hellhound's paws, and magma slowly drips from his teeth. Slag's eyes started to burn with fury if Hell itself, as he slowly came to life. A snarl rumbled into his throat and he moved, sluggishly.

Around him, members of his pack were beginning to stir as well. Slag watched, and Gneiss came up beside him.

They are eager, Slag observed. Gneiss nodded.

Yes, they are, My Lord, he agreed. Gneiss watched as all the hellhounds, one by one, began to move about. After all of them awoke, they turned their eyes to Slag.

We are ready, they all said in unison. Slag smiled.

Then let the Hunt begin, he declared, lifting his head and howling. His pack's voice rose with his and he laughed, then began to run. His pack followed.

Author's Note

Please, tell me what you think.

Reviews

[Mr.Knipple]

Wow, i'm really excited for the next chapter. can't wait to see what happens. This is very interesting so far. Well done.

[Author of Mystery]

Thank you kindly for your wonderful words.

[Mr.Knipple]

No problem. :)