Rowan groaned a little as he got down from his horse, with a couple of arrows jutting out of his right shoulder .. He had been galloping for hours, trying to get rid of his pursuers. “Damn Saxons” he said aloud. The saxons are only well known for their talent in Axe fighting. The archers caught him as a surprise.
He bit hard on the hilt of his knife and groaned as he pulled out the arrows.
He fixed his eyes on the full moon and smirked “ Today is not my day to die” he said.
He was about to go back to his horse when suddenly he heard birds flying away, followed by a whoosh. A tree fell on His horse taking the head clean off. He stared at it in horror as blood spurred out of the neck. He saw a figure approaching from the trees. A Maguro. The 7 foot monster approached Rowan. It’s bloodshot eyes shone bright in the dark of the night. The talons could slash Rowans face clean into four parts.
He had always heard stories about them and they are known to always move around with handlers: Wild Darnish men that tamed them, They usually considered Maguros more as their pets. The handlers were even more deadly than the beast itself. He had never seen one up close. And if there was a Maguro in sight, it’s handler would definitely be close by.
Almost immediately he felt the coldness of a blade on his neck followed by an instruction “Who are you”,
the bass voice sent shivers through his spine. For a warrior of his caliber to be shaken this much made him completely mystified.
He turned around slowly and was bewildered by the sight he beheld, A tall darnish man with huge muscles, tattoos all over his face and a braided beard as long as his arm holding a double edged lance to his neck.
The fate of his life depending on the next words that come out of his mouth.