"Just like big fat turkeys…"

Gar peered over the rocks at the small hamlet below. Throwing his snout into the air he could smell the halflings' fatty bodies from downwind. Barely a person was out and he could see the light of lanterns and candles glowing from inside the huts. Night had fallen and he knew that the Beastlord would be expecting him back soon with food. He was the one in charge of the hunt tonight.

By Beastman standards Gar was huge with arms twice the size of an average Gor's. Gar's position within the herd was one of great honour - that of the warband's standard-bearer.

Studying the village layout carefully, Gar noticed about a half dozen Halfling spearmen standing guard outside. His mouth watered in anticipation. He remembered the last time they hunted Halflings and how fatty and bloody their bodies were. That was two days ago, and since then the herd's supplies of food and blood had run out. They would need more.

Gar turned around and faced his hunting party. The Beastlord had given him a good-sized herd for tonight's hunt. Gar also noticed a familiar face in the crowd. It was Grizrog, a rival Beastman of smaller stature than Gar and one who was also up in the running to be the herd's battle standard-bearer. However Grizrog had failed and had been relegated to the role of unit musician.

Gar began to speak in a strange tongue that sounded like a cross between a goat and a dog's bark. "Tonight we return with blood for the blood gods and tribute for our Beastlord!!!" His words instantly excited the rest of the party except for Grizrog who Gar thought appeared somewhat lost in thought. "Grizrog what shall you return to our lord this night?"

Grizrog looked up at Gar, his breath angrily shooting out of his nose. "This night I return your horns to him after I remove them from your head!"

Suddenly Grizrog and four of his most loyal Beastmen charged forward into Gar, brandishing their crude blades. Gar felt a deep cut in his leg's thigh. Quickly reacting Gar dodged and parryied most of the blows directed at him. Before Grizrog and his followers could exploit their sneak attack, Gar had gutted all four of Grizrog's followers and had amputated Grizrog's sword arm. Gar saw the rage in this challenger's face suddenly turn into fear. With a howl and an acrobatic spin of his sword arm, Gar removed Grizrog's head from his shoulders in one smooth motion.

Breathing heavily, he quickly turned to the rest of the herd to face his next would-be challenger. However there was none and Gar saw the whole herd take a step back in fear of his wraith. At his hooves lay the bodies of 5 large Beastmen.

He quickly ordered the hunting party to collect the fallen and return to the herdstone. The herd would eat well tonight Gar thought to himself. The village was not going anywhere. The halflings would be there for another night.

As the hunting party headed back in the direction of the herdstone, the halflings slept well in their beds unaware of the events that had transpired outside and just how close they had come to awaking to a living nightmare.