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an
angular brow, twinkled with a primal light, and the mouth seemed to
bear something of the dimensions of some carnivore’s snout. When he
spoke, his canines which were unnaturally long by human standards,
flashed wickedly in his mouth. But his appearance was not so
remarkable that he would not pass for human in the minds of those
without the imagination to consider he might be anything
different.
    Mortaron could barely keep the disgust from
his voice, ‘You’re one of them. One of those things!’
    The intruder smiled a wicked feral smile,
the canines glittering in a mouth full of razor sharp teeth too
finely tapered to be designed for anything but rending flesh.
    ‘ Polite society might label
me monster, but I think for all your finery you might wear the
title better than I, Baron.’
    The intruder inclined his head in the
direction of the Lady Veronique, ‘It has been a long time my lady.
I’m gratified to see that even after all these many years you still
remember me.’
    Veronique was too shocked to frame a
response, and instead it was The Baron who spoke, ‘You know this
creature?’ he asked his sister.
    Veronique’s eyes were wide with fear, yet
still she remained silent, her mouth locked shut for fear that if
she were to open it all that would come tumbling out would be
screams.
    ‘ What is it you want?’
demanded Mortaron.
    ‘ I have come to tell you
that the the race of the wulfen is here to take back what is
rightfully theirs.’
    ‘ Sigourd,’ exclaimed
Veronique.
    ‘ Just so,’ nodded the
intruder, ‘these events you set in motion twenty years ago, now
speed toward their conclusion.’
    Mortaron stepped toward the man in the
shadows and drew his blade, its keen, murderous edge glinting
coldly. He fixed the other man with a penetrating stare, ‘I do not
hear the words of forest dwelling savages. I take their heads.’
    The light of the fire writhed in the eyes of
the intruder as he levelly met The Barons gaze, ‘Of course you do
baron. But a quick stroke with a sharp blade will not keep your
secret...this time.’
    ‘ We shall see,’ and without
further preamble The Baron rushed at the mysterious man, his sword
carving an arc of flashing death before his charge.
    But faster than Veronique could see, the
intruder sidestepped The Barons charge, and leveled his attacker
with a thunderous backhand that sent Mortaron sprawling to the
floor, his sword clattering uselessly out of reach across the
tiles.
    Before the attacker could press his
advantage, Veronique had filled her lungs with a deafening scream,
and an instant later the heavy door to the chamber came crashing in
with a sound like a tidal wave splintering the hull of a doomed
ship.
    Huron stood amongst the wreckage of the
doorway, a mighty war axe gripped firmly between his mailed fists,
its twin blade heads ready to deal uncompromising death.
    The towering enforcer stalked into the
chamber, his eyes searching diligently for any sign of threat. But
there was nothing he could see to give him cause to swing his
axe.
    ‘ My lord?’ he asked,
momentary confusion at the scene before him giving Huron
pause.
    Mortaron struggled quickly to his feet, cast
about for the man that had struck him down, but of the mysterious
intruder there was no sign. All that remained as indicator of his
presence was a set of open doors that led to a balcony overlooking
the courtyard below, where drapes billowed gently in the cool night
air.
    The intruder had been so quick, moving with
a speed and grace that one would be hard pressed to find amongst
the races of mortal men. Veronique had only known its like once
before, many years previously.
    She shuddered to think that the mistakes of
her past had brought this danger before her in the present, and now
Sigourd was threatened. All because she had been too afraid to do
what she knew to be right.
    Mortaron re-sheathed his sword and
straightened his robe. His face was flushed red with a simmering
rage that lent him the