They attacked just before dawn, counting that it will be tired after its nightly endeavors and not so careful. It was in its lair, beside its latest victim, delicately stroking her neck and relishing the wonderful aroma. Suddenly it heard them: one of the attackers tripped on the rubble and did not suppress his curse. The noise made it rise from the lair, looking around and trying to locate the source of the sound. They were coming from the east, from the houses that burned down last autumn. He quickly moved along the wet wall, groping, but he knew every corner around here – it might as well moved with eyes closed. It stopped at the breach, frozen as if a gargoyle on the cathedral. It could hear them clearly now, distinguishing the voices. Five of them, hoping that it will be a defenseless victim and that it will be possible to surprise it. It squinted its eyes – they were carrying torches, lighting the way. They were trying to be as quiet as possible, after all they knew what were they facing. It waited until they were close to the breach it hid by and attacked.
The first one didn’t even know what killed him – a terrible strike of the left paw almost severed his head. The other tripped hit with a wing membrane. Before he was able to regain balance a clawed paw easily cut through the chain-mail and ripped his stomach open. He fell with a scream, while another of his companions was killed, this time with the hooked beak. The remaining two counterattacked, one striking with a two-handed ax and the other raising his pistol. The hunter knew this weapon, people tried to use firearms against it many times before. It lent forward focusing its gaze on the attacker. Their eyes met just for a moment – it was enough. The men shook, opened his mount as if trying to catch breath and then threw his weapon down and ran away screaming. The hunter was turning but knew that it was too late. The ax bit its shoulder, pain radiated all over its body. He muffled the coming roar, instead it stood high up on its hind legs and spread its wings towering over the last attacker. He took two steps back readying his ax for another strike. The hunter opened its bloodied beak and attacked…
Lindwurm
Lindwurm is a creature of the Germanic legends – a kind of a large snake with claws, or a dragon. There are many portrayals of these monsters. Sometimes they have no limbs, sometimes they have a pair, and sometimes two pairs. They can also have wings. The most usual image is a wingless creature with two claws, crawling like a snake. The front limbs helped them to move. Some lindwurms had poisonous breath, like the mythical Fafnir who appeared in The Song of the Nibelungs. Often they guarded treasure hoards (the snake, which they resemble, is a symbol of greed). According to some legends, they would attack livestock, or even devour the bodies at cemeteries. In Anno Domini 1666, the lindwurm is a large, snakelike creature with two limbs. It is a scavenger dwelling in Vienna’s cemeteries and crypts.
Basilisk
Vienna has a legend about foul basilisk living in a sewers at Schönlaterngasse. The original one was killed in 1212, but apparently he managed to lay an egg. Now second basilisk is free and ready to roam the city. Basilisks were also called cocatrice, but it was in fact the same creature. You can also see basilisk head in the hands of our Gerard mini. The basilisk is a fearsome beast. There used to be multiple variations of the monster. The one common feature was that they all were some kind of a snake and a rooster, with the occasional amphibian thrown into the mix (e.g. a frog). Before the seminal RPG games, like D&D, sorted the monsters in complex bestiaries, there was no difference between a basilisk and a cocatrice. The terms were interchangeable. The Anno Domini 1666 basilisk is based on the original 17th Century illustration by Wenceslas Hollar. It depicts a scene described by Pliny the Elder – a basilisk being chased away by a weasel’s scent.
