It's always the creepy little kids
They came upon us suddenly, no sound preceding them until the splashing of their feet drew our eyes towards them. The wolf-things neither howled or snarled as they tore into our ranks.
War of the Roses as a campaign plot. Two noble lines converge somehow, each line thinks it has the rightful claim to the throne. Deciding this long ago was handled by some divine intervention, requiring both houses to come together at some point. They aren't so willing to get together this time. Civil war, or a new king?