Mikal’ki interrupted. “None question the bouts of Grimsdalr, but the creatures fought were capable of being beaten. Our wight is something more, something darker.”
King Hrackdene rubbed his fingers over a thick scar on his twisted cheek. “This monster is swifter than a northern wind, in and out of shadowy shapes, and upon you before you take a second breath. It slogs from the Blackened Fen nightly, ascending from the nether, and feasts upon my thanes. The carle, Beow, had his skin flayed and frayed by the beast!”
“Give me control o’er the meadhall this night, and I will present to you the head of a monster in the morning!” Grimsdalr declared.
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