In Love With The Man Destined To End Me

"Move your darn horse!", Reginald Lorgswarth said; this time flogging his white stallion which had already grown weary from pulling a carriage that had on it two grown men who were twice as heavy as its size. "Take it easy Pa!"; a young voice emanating from inside the coach said; "Poor Brutus has been on the road for days now, we wouldn't want to stress it that much," "Stress it you say?!; All the darn beast does all day is to eat carrots and grow fat; I ain't feeding my steed to grow soft on me!"; Reginald Lorgswarth said, this time clenching his fists on the horse's reins and this time, slightly hitting the horse's bum for it to move a little bit faster. Poor Brutus grunted, and obeyed his master's wish; they had been through thick and nail and as such, wouldn't want to disappoint the man who saved him and his mother from ending up at the butcher's shop with their meat carved up and displayed to some of the town folks that took delight in eating horse meat. Reginald Lorgswarth on the other hand, is a scrawny-looking old man. Anyone who sees him can boldly say that the man has come face to face with death quite a good number of times; from his youth, all the way down to his old age, he's been bred, trained and taught, he all, needed to know all it takes to hunt beasts such as "vampires and werewolves" which according to him were not meant to exist. Though it would interest you to note that poor Reginald didn't hate these so-called beasts because they were unlucky to be born in the form that he despises a lot; no, he hated them because they were largely responsible for the death of his wife, Robertha Lorgswarth. "Are we there yet, Pa?''; the voice from inside the carriage bellowed again; "Not yet, Ivar, the darn fog is too thick"; Reginald said, this time staring deep into his where his 19-year-old son was laying down, whilst covered in furry blankets. Reginald let out a deep, warm and gracious smile when he looked at his boy; his son was the carbon copy of his late wife, Roberta and whenever he stared too deep into Ivar's eyes, he always felt his wife soul staring right back at him. The two men continued their journey in silence until their horses came to a stand still in a passageway that was manned by two armed men, presumably the local town's vigilantes. "Aye!''; one of the men let out a huge cry to the encroaching party, motioning to them with his hands to stop. "What brings you to Yakrinia"; he continued, this time approaching the carriage whilst the other guard watched on. "Business of course, my good sir"; Reginald Lorgswarth said, whilst at the same time showing off a set of teeth that has already been noted to have gone through a lot of ordeals in life. "What sort of business, sir"; the other guard asked, this time at the top of his voice. "The kind of business that involves killing beasties, my good man"; Ivar shouted; this time opening the curtain that leads to the door of their carriage, jumping down and standing toe to toe with the guard whom was questioning his father. "By beasties… you mean vamps and furry dogs?"; The guard asked. "Yes, we are the Lorgswarth family sire, I am Ivar Lorgswarth"; Ivar said, whilst gently striking his chest; and pointing over to his father he continued; "That old man you see over there is none other than the legendary vampire and werewolf hunter, Reginald Lorgswarth"; he said, this time crossing his arm around the guard's shoulders. "But don't let his old age confuse sir"; Ivar continued; "he is here for a serious business, we are here for a serious business"; he continued, this time staring deeply into the guard's blue eyes. "3 months ago we received a report that there has been an upsurge of werewolves attacks within your town" "Why Yes, indeed"; the guard said, this time shrugging off Ivar's arms that were, well, just too heavy on his neck. "The whole town's been experiencing these attacks at nights, especially on full moons…" "Yes, please continue.." "We've hired a good number of mercenaries to take care of this problem but it seems like none of them are up to the task; at the sight of werewolves it's either they shat their pants or they run away…"; the guard said, this time lowering his head in self-pity. "Interesting"; Ivar said, whilst at the same time whipping out a quill and scroll to jot down all that the man was saying. "We have already exhausted a greater percentage of our resources in a bid to end this menace but it seems that no matter how hard we try, we always seem to keep being on the loosing end"; he continued. "Well, don't worry son"; Reginald Lorgswarth said, whilst staring deeply into the guard's eyes; "I and my son are going to make sure that the "doggy" problem your townsfolk have is dealt with, but I'd love to discuss more with the chief of this town" "You wish to meet the chief?"; The other guard asked. "Yes, I need to reveal to him our terms and conditions before embarking on this risky adventure"; Reginald said, this time stroking the back of his valiant steed, Brutus. "Very well then"; the first guard continued; "we will take you to meet him" "Splendid!"; Ivar shouted; "well Tally Ho! then, we ain't got all day to waste!"; He said whilst reaching forward for his sword and portions. "Some folks say you Lorgswarths engage in the dark arts, is that true?"; The second guard asked whilst keenly observing the bottles of portions that Ivar was stuffing in his backpack. "Well isn't that a mystery for you to solve?"; Reginald Lorgswarth asked, whilst at the same time jumping down from his carriage's driver's seat. He reached out for where his sword was, grabbed it and strapped it to his belt. "One more thing", the first guard continued; "Before we visit the chief, we would have to see to it that none of you are carrying any thing that could be harmful to the community." "Oh right then; be my guest", Ivar said, making way for the town's guardsmen to go through their properties that were within the carriage. When it dawned on the two town guards that there was nothing within the two Lorgswarth's carriage that could prove to be harmful, they asked the two Lorgswarth's to leave their horse and carriage at the gates; and then, it didn't take long until they called upon a young lad, to take the horse and carriage to a nearby shed and see to it that the stallion, Brutus, was well-fed; when that was done; they led the two men to where the Town's chief office was located. On getting into the town, Ivar and Reginald noticed that the streets of the town were bare; dogs which looked underfed (or malnourished) roamed the roads and the air reeked of blood, piss and vomit. "Gracious me would you look at that!"; Ivar said, whilst at the same time whipping out a handkerchief to cover his nose in a bid to protect himself from the putrid stench that was coming from the already "dead and decomposing" bodies of some townsfolk that were littered across the street. "They were the victims of a werewolf attack last night; poor things couldn't defend themselves", one of the town guards said; "and the animals ripped them to shreds". "Well, you could have at least buried the dead; that's the least you could do for them in such a very sad situation…"; Reginald said, this time fastening his grip on his scabbard and looking sideways as if he is expecting an attack from an unannounced enemy. "We think their bodies are cursed sir"; the second guard chipped in; "at least that's what the townsfolk within this community thinks", he said. The four men walked in silence, amidst creepy peeps from some of the town locals whom barred themselves within closed doors and watched as the four men (all armed) walked on. On getting to the Town Chief's office, the first guard gently knocked on the door and cried out in a thunderous voice to announce the arrival of the two Lorgswarths. "Greetings Sire, there are two Lorgswarths out here with me who wish to have an audience with you", the first guard said. "Lorgswarths you say?!"; The chief's voice rang out from within the building. "Yes sire, they have come to offer their services…." The Town Chief didn't give the first town guard the opportunity to finish his statement and he swung open the door to see the men who came to visit him on such a very foggy day.