The Baron arrives with his retinue. Freshly polished armor gleams in the evening sun. The Baron smiles when he hears that the seer has produced another vision. Another easy night, he thinks.
The target is not in the village square. Knights are quickly sent to surround the evil one's hut. Archers swiftly move into position. The Baron yells, "Come out Coler, we know who you are. Come out and your end will be quick."
No answer comes from the hut. The Baron nods to his Knight Commander. Two knights kick in the door to find Coler curled up on the floor. He lazily opens one blood red eye and glares balefully at the knights. He stretches to his full length of eight feet. Inch long claws gouge the dirt. Coler, without concern scratches behind his left ear.
Then he launches himself at the knights. Faster than lightening. Strong than steel, he is still no match for silver edged swords. Giant claws break on silver laced armor. Fatally wounded, he lets out on final Arrrrrrrrrrrrroooooooooooo. Answering calls come from all around. Some near, some far.
The Baron and his men drag Coler's wolfy carcass back to the castle.
Coler was a werewolf.