These aren't wargs, they are werewolves

Duvtkkar was heading out of his farm, to cut some wood, when he heared the shouting in a near field. And again. "Wargs!" he thought to have heared, but if there was any doubt, the demon wolves, discovered, began to howled mourfully.

Living in Polforia wasn't easy. Aside of the several demonic princedoms, fighting for hegemony after the defeat of the First War of the Power, the fall of the demon lords and the First Dark Legion, there wandered monsters and other creatures, and as well, there was the nature itself as a danger to the settlers of Polforia.

Normally, wolves weren't much of a threat to the Kanov farmers, but to their livestock, as Kanovs and other men aren't part of the wolfs natural prey, and overall, wolves weren't dangerous to Kanovs, as long they were in low numbers, had suffient food, had little contacts with Kanov, and were ocasionally hunted. However, in dire times, like the ones of the anarchistic past two centuries of Polforia, with recurrent wars, famines and diseases, the wolves had grow bolder, and gradually had lost their fear to peoples...

But an attack to a farm? Duvtkkar, with his axe in his hands, looked over the fields from where the shoutings came, and he was able to see more than a dozen of giant wolves, and how that old witch of Sgeanda fell under the attack of a werewolf, while she put her sickle in the giant wolf guts.

These where no wolves. These where wargs, the larger, bloodthirsty cousins of wolves. The same creatures orcs and goblins raised to use as warmounts, and for wars, they where much more dangerous... and an attack of them was more pausible of wolves.

"Quick! Inside!" Duvtkkar yelled to the farm, as two of his daughters where playing in front of the house. "Inside! get the Animals and close the doors!"

It had been some years since the last time wargs attacked, but the best was rather than to play the heroe, to close the doors of the barns and houses.

As the large wargs where already over the farm, Duvtkkar, his family and the farmhands had quickly closed the doors behind them, trying to guide the animals in the barns: but frightened by the presence of the demonic wolves, some cows, chickens and sheep tried to escape, to be hunt down by the wargs.

"What's going on?" asked Bog with the bow in one hand and a quiver in the other to Duvtkkar in the main house.

"Wargs" said the Kanov farmer, looking to everybody who had taken shelter in the main house. Hopefully, the others get in safety in the other buildings. "Wife, get me my bow. Let's put some arrows in these fleabags so they learn not to come again".

As his wife reached him the bow, they heared ouside the wargs howling, and running around the buildings of the farm.

One of the older sons of Duvtkkar the farmer climbed in one of the beans of the roof with a torch, and he throwed it from one of the windows to the wargs outside, as he yelled and cursed at them. The wargs easily avoided the flying torch, and didn't show any fear to the fire, who quickly fade away in the wet grass.

Then, they heared something, somebody pummeling the door. Scratching it, growling and howling. And the door rumbled.

the kanovs of the farm and their guests looked at this, surprised. The door was hit again.

"...wargs don't attack buildings..." said Bog. If they where wargs, the livestock they killed out of the farm would have been enough....
They heared then how something jumped to the roof, and how the wargs outside began digging the roof of straw and branches.

"THESE ARE NO WARGS! THEY ARE WEREWOLVES!" yelled Bog, realizing what happened. These damn traitors! He thought in his way back from the Howlling Keep, he had seen some wolves not far away, but he thought they where just wolves. Why would they attack?

Anyway, it wasn't the same some wolves to attack a farm, or how to react in front of wargs. These where werewolves.

"Quick!" yelled Duvtkkar, as his older sons, wife and farmhands in the main house quickly armed themselves with axes, farming tools and bows. Bog quickly turned to Pumoir, Bogilla and the terrified younger sons and daughters of the farmer.

"Bogilla! Grab that bow! Let's see if you trained while I was away!"

"but!-"

"Quick!" Bog said, giving his daughter his bow and a quiver. "We have here a good provision of arrows, but not an infinite one! Don't waste them!"

Pumori, the half werewolf girl, seemed confused with what was going on, but she seem to want to help. Over the growling and howling of the wolves, they heared the desperate cries in one of the other near farm buildings. "Pumori!" said Bog, placing his hands over Pumori's shoulders.
"I need you help" Bog said. "I need you to watch over the other childs? Can you do that?! Is very important!!"

Pumori, confused, nodded "Stay here and look for them!" Bog said, pointing under a wooden table.

The kanovs farmers where armed, and they dragged some furniture to barricade the door, and hanging from the roof beans, the older son of the farmer was shooting some arrows at the werewolves throught the small window -a hole-. But that wasn't enought, and they where trying to enter, digging throught the roof, the door and walls.

As the Kanovs waited with arms in their hands, and Bogilla not quite knowing what to do with a bow and arrows in the middle of the house. Bog picked a heavy pike, barking some orders. "We can't leave them in! Make some arrowslits on the wall for the archers! Werewolves doesn't wear armors!" as he said this, he attacked the wall with the heavy pike, and soon, Duvtkkar followed.

As they make loopholes -and others reinforced the door barricade-, the ones with bows quickly take possitions in the arrowsliths, firing at the werewolves that crossed in front of them.

As Bog just opened one of the holes in the roof, a snout suddendly appeared, trying to bite off the head of Bog. Duvtkkar was quick to pierce the werewolf's snout with his pike, nailing the wolf's head.

"Thanks" said Bog, as he proceeded to other of the opened arrowslits in the roof and walls.

The werewolves can't enter, because if they do, we are lost, thought Bog. He sensed a place where a werewolf was digging in the roof... he used then the heavy pike to break throught the weakened wall, and he heared the werewolf's groan. When he retired the pike from the roof, it was covered in blood.

He peeked for a moment from one of the loop holes of the wall, and saw that the other buildings where being attacked as well, and he estimated the number of attackers in about one dozen and half, to two dozens. Some of the werewolves laid dead, with arrows coming out of their backs... but the attack didn't stopped.

"Damn" cursed Bogilla, as she cutted herself with the bow's string again. Her arms where stirring, her fingers hurt... and so far, she was only depleting good arrows, that she saw to fall only some feet away from the house. How the hell elves where supposed to be good archers?!!

"It's only training" said Bog, smiling at her. Bogilla was sure she hadn't said anything out loud. Bogilla shoot an arrow to a black werewolf, that crossed running in front of her post. "I hit him!" she said. Finally!

But the shoot wasn't strong enough. The werewolf jumped as he was hit, but the arrow falled alone from the black skin of the werewolf. Too weak.

Bog taked other bow, and he shooted some arrows throught the loophole.

The battle was fierce, and so far, the werewolves hadn't entered in the main house... but, they feared from the yells they heared coming from the barn, it seems in the other buildings of the farm, they weren't so lucky.

"They are retreating!" yelled one of the farmhands.

Indeed, it seemed the werewolves stopped running around the buildings of the farm, and in their attemps against the door, walls and roof.

"They aren't retreating. They are reagrouping" said Bog. At least, it meant as well a needed break for the defenders.

Bogilla dropped on the floor, exhausted, and her arms where killing her.

"Let me see that" somebody said, with a worried tone. It was Bog, kneeling in front of her. Bogilla wanted to say to him to shut up to go to bother elsewhere, but she didn't resisted when Bog picked her arms, looking at her wounds. "It's nothing too bad" he said, as he picked from his bag some cloths to produce a bandage. "You need a bracer. And a finger tab, or a leather glove. I will see if I find something for you there."

"Thanks" mumbled Bogilla, as Bog bandaged her wounded arms.

It was then when the werewolves began to howl.

"Here they come again" said one of the farmer sons.

"Attention! They aren't coming only as wolves! Some have werewolf and person forms!"