Anorash sighed again as he came across another corpse. This time it was Walter, a guard who was always the center of attention, when off duty. He had a wife and a twelve year old son down in the village.
Walter marked the fifth family he would have to compensate for their loss. Anorash moved the fallen soldier to the side of the hallway while whispering a prayer for him. The hellkite moved quietly through the hallways of his own keep constantly wary of potential attackers. He couldn't change shaped within these tight hallways as the castle would collapse on top of him and the surviving guardsmen so Anorash kept to his human disguise.
Every fresh body found was another bloody footprint. These footprints led the hellkite in the direction of his throne room, which was actually more of a mess hall with a stone chair at the end. He moved slowly towards the throne room and drew his sword when he came to the entrance. Lightbringer, a straight sword half as old as Anorash, forged by the fey, given to a champion, conquered by a dragon, was held tightly in the dragon's grasp and he pushed upen the oak doors and peeked into the room.
The room was large, large enough for Anorash to transform and still have room enough for him to move about. The red tapestries on the granite walls proudly presented Anorash's crest, large chandeliers hung from the gothic ceiling, and at the end of the room was the chair mentioned earlier. It was made from black marble and decorated with sandstone and precious metals, not a king's throne, but something along those lines. The beautiful hall was empty save for an angel who sat lazily on the throne.
Anorash stepped towards her and looked her over, trying to assess the situation and determine the right course of action.
Anorash noticed that there was someting odd about the angel, the colour of her skin and wings seemed off, so he decided to step carefully. "You, villain! Speak thine name and state thy business!"
