Read Online Tales of the Wolf: Book 01 - The Coming of the Wolf by A. E. McCullough - Free Book Online

upward to stare Blackfang dead in the eyes.
    “And if they did, we would be able to take care of them without any problems.” 
    Glancing over his shoulder at his companions, the young gnome flashed them a quick wink. In his arrogance, he didn’t notice the worried looks on his companion’s faces. He was certain they would support him in his boast.
    He was wrong, dead wrong!
    Turning back to face Blackfang, the last thing he saw was the werewolf’s right hand which ended in a black, hairy paw with inch long claws as it shot out quicker than an arrow at his exposed throat. The young gnome didn’t even feel any pain as his body immediately went into shock from the strike.
    Standing absolutely still, the dying gnome looked at the jagged pieces of flesh and blood hanging from Blackfang’s clawed hand, as his lifeblood began pouring out of the large gash in his throat. Opening his mouth, the young gnome tried to say something, anything but no sounds came out, only blood, lots of blood. Falling to the floor, the last images that went through his mind were of Blackfang leaning over him with a large evil grin on his face.
    “What was that you were saying? You stupid, Digger! You forgot the first rule of survival; always expect the unexpected!” 
    Turning back to face the two remaining guards, Blackfang pointed at them with his bloody claw.
    “Let that be a lesson to the both of you. Take your watch positions seriously or you will not live to regret it.” 
    Turning his back on them, he spoke over his shoulder as he continued down the passageway.
    “Take that carcass to the kitchens. Everyone and everything is useful in some way, just be careful not to join him.”
    Moving through the dungeon without pause, Blackfang entered the lower parts of the keep. From here on up, the passageways were expertly carved by dwarven craftsmen several centuries earlier. This fortress had once been a citadel of some renown but as the saying goes, ‘time makes a fool of all men’ and it had fallen into disuse.
    Blackfang and his followers had taken up residence here several years ago and with the aid of a band of gnomes had restored the fortress to a shadow of its former glory. During its heyday this citadel was a fortress of good, a bastion of hope for all of Terreth. It was the center of learning and education for nearly a century until the evils of mankind whittled away the last visage of pride in its soul. Now, it was a tower of terror; remade to serve the evil of the Dark Alliance.
    Turning the bend that led to his room, Blackfang stopped in mid-stride when he found a grim faced dark elf barring his way. The barbarian warlord was about to yell when a flash of recognition rolled through him. This wasn’t just any dark elf, this was the Blademaster.
    The unfamiliar trickle of fear rolled up his spine at the memory of watching the Blademaster’s last round in the Pit. The dark elf had faced five well-armed and skilled Highlanders. As soon as they had shifted into their hybrid forms, the werewolves charged. The Blademaster had calmly drawn his twin sabers and proceeded to cut them to pieces with surprising ease. 
     Recovering his composure, Blackfang glared at the warrior with a conviction he truly didn’t feel and said, “Greetings Blademaster, I assume your mistress is inside?”
    Darnac tilted his head to one side as he studied the barbarian with his violet eyes. “She left instructions not to be disturbed.”
    Blackfang made to step past but was stopped by the cold edge of a knife at his throat. Swallowing hard, Blackfang stammered, “I…I’m sure she didn’t mean me!”
    Darnac grinned coldly. “The mistress is meditating. She will not be disturbed by you or anyone else as long as the blood flows through my veins.”
    The dark elf withdrew the knife and sheathed it slowly.
    “If you have a problem with that you have two options, wait until summoned or attack me.” Darnac leaned back on the doorframe and crossed his