The four men were following a lesser known path carved out in the brush beside the main road. Westin decided it was best if they tried to stay in the brush that way, if the Balverine was to return, they had a better chance of losing it.

"Why did you leave him" said Marks, the trader who finally shared his name a moment ago. "You could have saved him."

"Not from that thing," said Westin, "Besides, he was already wounded. There was nothing I could do."

"I had a healing potion," Ben piped up.

"Thank you for your concern but he was beyond your medicines, trader," Westin said darkly.

"Are you saying he was infected?" Alban asked quietly.

"No," Westin answered with a tone that suggested he didn't mind being asked more questions, "He was Marked by the Beast." He looked at everyone before he asked if they knew what that meant. Marks seemed to be the only one who knew.

"It's when a Balverine sets out to kill a specific person," he said smartly, looking very pleased with himself.

"Correct," Westin said, cleaving aside some gigantic thorn roadblocks. "And if you're wondering how one becomes Marked, you have to do something that angers a colony of Balverines very much or just piss off their leader. It usually doesn't happen to normal person but it happens quite often to Balverine Slayers and the people who hire them."

"I didn't think Balverine's were smart," Ben said, who was talking much louder now that the atmosphere had gone from fearful to conversational.

"Regular Balverines aren't very smart but they aren't dumb either, mind you," Westin said, "It's the White ones that have the most brains. They lead packs, form colonies, organize breeding, arrange assaults. You mess with a White Balverine and you better kill it or it's going to find some way to kill you."

"What did you do to this Balverine to make it Mark your brother?" said Alban.

Westin smiled and nodded in his Alban's direction, "Why, I killed its mate of course."

At the exact moment Westin said 'mate' the White Balverine dropped down behind Ben and lifted him off the ground in one hand, holding on to the back of Ben's neck. The Beast grabbed him around the waist with his other hand and before Ben could fully comprehend what was happening to him, he was torn in half. The Balverine tossed his mangled corpse aside and growled at the others.

Westin raised his sword in preparation. "Run!" he cried to Alban and Marks and they didn't take time to be told again.

The Balverine charged Westin swinging its massive claws. Westin blocked each attack and countered with his own. The creature leapt up high and came down behind Westin and swung a massive blow to his back which sent him sprawling.

Alban watched the battle from behind a large tree while Marks hid inside a bush nearby. Westin kicked up and continued to fight the beast.

Westin got in several good swings, ripping long, thin wounds along the Balverines flank. The creature howled loudly every time he was being hit and seemed to be weakening after every blow. The silver augmentation, known now to be the White Balverine's only weakness, was most certainly working.

Westin pressed the attack, cutting the beast back into the base of a tree and continuing to hack him away. The white Balverine let out an awful guttural cry which rang out through the tree tops. It was so sudden and so painfully pitiful that Westin stopped attacking to look at the monster with confusion.

Alban screwed his face up in a confused look. It sounded to him as if the beast was pleading with Westin to stop. Marks had a cold expression of terror on his face and was yelling something in panic that neither Alban nor Westin could understand.

Marks finally said clearly, "He's calling for help!"

Westin prepared for the final blow. He didn't see a Shadowy Figure dancing in the treetops directly above him. It was another Balverine, a regular one this time, drawn by the White one's call.

The second Balverine dropped down Westin's back digging its claws deep into his flesh and biting feverishly into his neck.

Westin spun around screaming while torrents of blood gushed out of his neck. The White Balverine watched contently as its follower ripped the flesh out of Westin's neck.

Alban had to do something. He knew once the two Balverines were done with Westin, they would come for him and Marks next. He pulled out a long, silver pin from out of his bag and charged the Balverine riding Westin's back. He plunged the pin into its back and deep into its spine.

The Balverine leapt off Westin's back and fell to the floor, rolling in pain. Alban picked up Westin's fallen sword and finished it off by stabbing it sloppily in its heart.

The White Balverine rose up enraged and charged Alban.

He blocked the Balverine's attacks and countered with his own, repeating exactly the types of moves he saw Westin do just moments before.

Alban had no trouble slicing the beast back and finally, when the Balverine opened its arms wide to let out an earsplitting roar; he cut its head off in one swift motion.

The Balverine's body fell to the floor with a thud and began to ooze buckets of dark red blood across the forest floor. Alban looked form the corpse and then to Marks who was coming his way with much trepidation.

"Bloody wicked," he said, looking at the headless Balverine corpse.

Alban looked from Marks to his new sword and then frowned saying, "I suppose so."

"I'm sorry about your friend," Marks said softly. "He seemed okay."

"He was my cousin actually," Alban replied. "Known each other since we were tots."

"Oh, wow, sorry."

"It's okay, really," Alban said and then, looking very depressed and sad, his eyes filled up with tears, he asked Marks, "Would you mind helping me find his body so I can bury it?"

Marks nodded and the two went off in search for Ben's body.

"What will you do after?" Marks asked, without a care as to weather or not he was annoying the person he was interrogating.

"I suppose I'll head over to Darkwood Camp, that's where we were going," Alban replied, "And then I think I'll go to the Guild."

Marks's face lit up," The Guild? The Guild of Heroes you mean?"

"Yeah, I think I might sign up to be an Apprentice if I'm not too old."

Marks shook his head vigorously, "You're not too old. You look about my age and I was going over to the Guild right now to start my first days training."

Alban looked extremely happy despite his current situation, "Really? I thought you were a trader."

"I found these clothes on a body, dead, Balverine got it," Marks said shyly.

"Balverines," Alban muttered darkly, "I suppose once I'm done at the Guild, there won't be much more of those around."

THE END

Alban went on to become a well-known Balverine Slayer called Silverblade. He currently lives in Knothole Glade along with his pregnant wife, Melissa, and their young son Ben.

Marks trained at the Guild and went to become a Witchhunter. After locating and destroying a powerful Sorceress he gained admittance to the Area where he was killed in the fourth round.