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welcome to ye old Herot
Grendel, a mighty beast, growled in agony, restless as day in and day out the music reverberated throughout the hall. Hrothgar's men lived peacefully in that hall. Until the beast awoke, that savage Grendel, who lived in the wild marshes, and made his home in an abyss. He was produced in that slime.
When nightfall came, Grendel approached Herot. Curious to see what the warriors would do after their drinking had ended.
The beast found them slumped in slumber, innocently naive, engulfed in their peaceful dreams.
The beast was lightning quick as he made his way through the door and in the darkness and stillness of that night he abducted 30 men, mashed them during their slumber unsuspecting and escaped with their corpses, leaving a crimson trail as he went to his refuge, ecstatic about his first carnage.
When sunrise came they realized what the beast had done, and in that drab morning concluded their celebration with anguish and heartache. Hrothgar, sat motionless in Herot, a great prince grieving what had become of his friends and companions, aware that a beast had mangled his admirers. He mourned, fearing that this was only the beginning. And that night Grendel came again, so fixed on murder, that nothing could quench his thirst for bloodshed.
Then each warrior attempted to flee, looked for respite in beds a long way from Herot, knowing that Grendel hunted while they slumbered. Distance was security; the only way to live was to flee from Herot. Evil had won. So Grendel reigned, fought with the right and just, and won. And Herot stood barren, devoid of life for years to come.
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