As Bloodtain entered he saw the painting of the prince and he paused long enough to take in the picture. Prince Dakota had been painted sitting proud, straight backed and squared shoulders. His face framed by his jet black hair was an intense stare out of the painting at whoever was looking at him, the artist had enhanced his handsomeness, his cheekbones, strong jaw but most of all his mismatched eyes. The frame of the painting was ornate and gold and beneath the frame a plaque read 'Prince Dakota Blackmoon. Strength is not always measured in the body but also in the heart and that is called love. May you find your heart's strength and rise to your destiny.
Bloodtain was locked in the Prince's gaze and the words etched into the metal plaque echoed inside his head. The sound of someone clearing their throat made the Hargorn leader snap out of his trance and tear his eyes away from Dakota's portrait.
At the end of the hall there two white marble thrones with twisting veins of colour spiralling up them the same as the floor of the marble hall. On these thrones sat the sorceress and the Reaper Lord, surveying Bloodtain with clear repugnance on their faces. They detested working with Hargorn's as much as Bloodtain did them but they were both after what the other could offer. In front of the thrones stood a hulking werewolf his fur the colour of dark blood, the Captain of the Reapers a middle-aged man with more scars on his face then skin, King of the Goblins a ghostly pale lean limbed subhuman creature and the Black Spirit a demon of the oldest darkness in his form of a black lion. They were the leaders of the combined dark magic races that had united to stop the Maiden and the Wolf prophecy from coming true.
"Nice of you to final join us Bloodtain," called the sorceress in a loud sceptical voice that reverberation around the hall.
"Now that your here we can begin," spoke the Reaper Lord, who as always wore his long black robe that hid his body and his hood that cast his face into darkness made it look like you were looking into an abyss.
"Begin what?" snarled the Red Werewolf, turning his back on Bloodtain to glare at the two sorcerers sitting on the thrones.
"Yes," said the Goblin King, his voice high and taunting, "Why have you summoned us here tonight?"
"And in this storm of all weathers," growled the Black Spirit, his voice deep and gravelly. His black lion form was threatening and powerful, its lean robes of muscles rippled beneath its pelt of black fur as he sat down.
Bloodtain noticed for the first time that the black lion's fur was wet, its mane bedraggled and a droplet quivered on it whisker as he spoke.
"You are here because Vaina has made contact with the Maiden," the Reaper Lord said gruffly, sensing the irritation between the beings in his presence and he was anxious to distract them, he was in no mood for their squabbling like spoilt children.
The sorceress nodded, "I met her yesterday. She was injured by Delrons and she was brought to me for healing."
"What did you do?" asked The Captain of the Reapers eagerly, his eyes dancing, "did you kill her? Oh, please say you brought her back to us."
"I did neither," sorceress Vaina said curtly, "think will you, Captain."
"My scouts have informed me that Dakota and his companion have entered the Scorched Plains," Bloodtain said quickly seeing the Captain of the Reapers blanch with fury, "He's getting closer to the mountains and the Maiden."
The red werewolf let out a snarl, "if my idiot brother wasn't such a coward then the Maiden would still be my people's hands where Dakota could never find and rescue her!"
The Maiden And The Wolf --- Chapter 30 (Improved)
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