I heard the growl echo all around me, every hair in my body standing on end. I turned around, intent on facing my enemy and instead I faced my nightmares. There stood a creature fully a head taller than I, its single, bloodshot eye staring at me with all the hatred in the world. It had a broad and muscled body with a single arm jutting from the center of its chest, and a single, powerful leg that propelled it closer toward me. I tried to raise my blade, to defend myself, but I was terrorized; I stumbled backwards, tripped over my feet, dropped my sword, and ran for my life. I could hear the creature pursuing me, tearing through the darkening thicket, taking powerful jumps that drew it closer and closer. I howled a scream of agony as I felt the monster’s claw tear through my jerkin and my skin. I thought I was done for. The ground opened up below me and I tumbled down a small ravine, away from the creature. It was days later I learned what kind of creature I’d faced, and I can honestly say I hope to never run into a fachan ever again.

– From the journal of Amergin Ó Míl

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