Felgraven Castle

         “This best not be no foul farce. I ain’t no man to be tricked easily,” Teybar muttered under his pipe-stained teeth. His one large bulging eye fixated on the shadow-stained door on the other end of the Grand Hall - its mosaic carvings and runes cloaked in a swath of nothingness.
         “At ease Teybar lest your wit sprouts wings. The Twodan has never lead us astray and his sight is our harbinger. Need you forget?” A sickly smile forming on the man’s hawkish face, his ridged cheekbones blotting out what little you could see of his dull, grey eyes. “You see Crig keeping his words in his mouth. Maybe you take note before the Twodan catches wind of your sniveling.” The comment raising a chuckle out of the man’s mouth.
         Crig paid it no mind though. His attention was focused on the darkness that lay beyond the pedestal the three men stood upon. The flickering of Varik’s incantation looming behind them was the only source of light they had and it wasn’t much compared to the vast, desolate hall around them. (To be continued)