Lord Bingham's face contorted with loathing as he faced the diminutive figure before him. "Cease your dark prophecies, wretched creature!" he bellowed, his great hand cutting through the night air. "'Twas a fruitless errand summoning thy withered carcass here this night."
With a violent turn, he beckoned his men to follow, marching back toward his grand estate while crushing the forest floor beneath his boots. "We'll have no more remedies from you wretched, rootling ilk. I'll see to retrieving my wayward heir through kruder means - ones befitting the brutal clarity a noble patriarch's disobedient spawn requires!"
The dwarf warlock watched impassively as Bingham and his entourage retreated, finally allowing a thin, contemptuous smile to crease his ancient features. "Blind to the profane t
