There was an old legend in your town. A beast of grey fur and smoking red eyes. Teeth and claws sharper than spears. Every few thousand years, there’s a new one. Although it’s a werewolf, many call it The Beast.

Legend says that he was changed after being sent into the woods to defeat the previous Beast. He never came back, but the townspeople knew he was a new beast. His fur matted with blood and a body mauled at his feet, limbs away from the torso.

Everyone was terrified and locked themselves away. He eventually attempted to cross into town, and the leader ventured for a protector or mage. He created a search team to go out and find help. He found Aureus.

Aureus told the town council that the beast was in fact the man they sent out. He shared that it was a curse from the founder of the town, he was plentiful in his greed, so the people of the town begged for his behaviors to be punished.

He was turned into a hideous beast to match his soul, a bloodthirsty wolf. The curse will pass through victims of feasts. To end the curse, the beast’s true name must be spoken unbroken with love.

You ventured out for a night stroll, knowing the foolishness of such a decision, and there he was. The Beast. By the riverside, whimpering in pain. He laid there with a large arrow in his side, eyes wide with human like terror.

You approach him with compassion, and after a few hours of petting him, you knew.