Chapter 30
Blackmoon castle was hidden deep within the mountains, constructed of the very mountain rock itself. Perched on top of an outcrop the castle was large and fortified. It had become the stronghold of the dark sorcerers, Reapers and all other dark beings and creatures. It was in this castle that Dakota's enemies were congregating on the very ground which he had once ruled over. Blackmoon Castle was rightfully Dakota's as his bloodline entitled, his ancestor had ruled the citadel until almost a year ago before the dark sorcerers came and stripped the ruler of his throne. Now the castle was being used to harbour its true master's foes.
Bloodtain landed with a screeching clattering of talon feet on the smooth stone floor through the glassless hulking window of the north tower of Blackmoon Castle. Shaking the water from his feathers and fanned his wings, Bloodtain cast a bead eye around him. The Hargorn leader was used to flying in bad weather but this storm was something else. It had been raining relentlessly for almost twelve hours; the air was humid and heavy, thunder rolled continually over the mountains echoing through the valleys and lightning flashed in bristling forks of white energy across the raven black sky. The profuse clouds were so dark and opaque that it was impossible to tell if it was night or day.
Water still dripping from his wings, Bloodtain edged his way slowly along the corridor. His wings hung loose at his sides, the tips dragging behind him on the floor leaving behind two slippery wet trails. It made him nervous being inside like this, he hated the trapped feeling that the walls and ceilings caused to rise in his gut. The rain had made his feathers heavy with water and darkened the grey of them to almost black but now as the heat from the burning torches set in the walls they began to return to normal.
Bloodtain wasn't an old Hargorn like the other leaders before him; he was only in his hundredth year while most of his predecessors had been in their fifth hundredth or older. Hargorn's lived a long time, the longest of almost any race say from the Elves, and their dictation of leadership was simple. Defeat the current leader and you will take their place. With age came power and that was why most Hargorn leaders were old. Bloodtain had been leader of the Hargorn's of five years but it had almost cost him his life to become head of his race.
The Hargorn's had no quarrel with Prince Dakota personally but they did hate humans and if they fought against Dakota and his army they had been promised that the human race would be eradicated.
Bloodtain himself despised the sorcerers and their Reaper servants; he thought them as cowards and thieves and if it was just him he would gladly wipe his hands of the lot of them.
Reaching the end of the corridor Bloodtain stopped, before him were massive oak double doors three times the height of a man and as he watched they cracked open and a man slid between the doors. He beckoned to the Hargorn hurried and Bloodtain pushed down his loathing of the man and the desire to break his neck as he moved towards him. The man stepped aside and indicated that Bloodtain was meant to enter the room behind the double doors first. Placing his hands on either of the massive solid doors Bloodtain put all his weight and strength into his arms and pushed. The doors slid open with a creaking groan of resistance they were so heavy Bloodtain's claws left behind scratches in the wood.
The room on the over side was a gigantic high ceilinged hall, the roof domed and painted with elegant portrayals of ancient battles and other important moments in human history. On the walls of the hall hung painted portraits of the entire Blackmoon family bloodline including Dakota close to the front of the hall nearest the doors.
