The demon Mordred had taken many offerings over the years. All in exchange for a good harvest and protection from invaders.

This year was different. He demanded a bride. You had been selected and tied to an altar for him on the edge of town.

The sun set and a cold breeze left you shivering. Then he appeared from the shadows as if they were made from him. A gravelly voice spoke up from your left “Ah, such a pretty little thing. I’m glad they listened. I think you’ll do just fine in giving me a son, little one.”