For reference of the creatures of Zodak.

A Whisker is a Cat.  A Vulpes is a Fox.   A Hound is a Dog.   A Seatail is an Otter.       A Horned is a Dragon.   A Tenpoint is a Deer.   A Shortfeather is a Bird.   A Anoid is a Human. A Scalded is a Lizard.   A Lycanis is a Wolf.   An Iron is a Turtle.    A Longbeard is a Goat. A Jokey is a Hyena.   A Gi-Ring is a Bull.   A Highat is a Rabbit.   A Overeye is a Hawk.    A Guard is a Mouse.   A Winged is an Angle.

Workers had been making the preparations for hours. The atrium dome of stained glass had been uncovered allowing moon light to dance around with playful colors. Documents and quills had been organized and combed for each lord. All oil lamps were polished, getting there fill and being tested for flicker.

The building, at one time was used as train station, but the rails had long since turned to dust. It was nothing special, with exception of the dome. Throughout all time, all abuse it stood a great achievement. Admired by few who understood it’s scale and design, a perfect map of the stars.

Beyond the documents and lamps, nothing had been added since the table. It was a simple frame of black iron. Resting on top, Blood Oak, carved round for all to stand or remain seated. It was paneled, each plank bearing the imbedded seal and crest of the family.

Only two cleaners remained, little time remained before the lords would arrive. A Longbeard lifted off another panel off the table, setting aside with the others. A Highat pushed the table together.

“Host. Who else?” squeaked the Highat, wiping the sweat from her brow.

“The Angel’s. Winged lords. Look for it by the Iron lord’s seat. I need a letup.” He slid down, back against the wall.

Rubbing one of his horns, he let out a sigh. The Highat’s tall ears, twitched she turned to look at him.

“Mr. Host, is it another headache? I could go outside, get some snow for you.”

He remained silent, resting his head on an arm. “That, Mural, sounds rather nice.” He said a quiver of sadness rattling his speech.

She rushed out the doors, “Be careful not to drip any on the floor.” He shouted to no one.

Looking up at the glass, then around the room. It was lovely, nothing over the top. After serving under the eyes of the previous ruler’s tastes. It was nice to see resources being put to better use. The lords could have easily taken one of the grand halls in the castle. Demanding fine curtains and wine, instead they chose a place out of the way. The greatest luxury’s being the dome, already made. And the table, carved out of appreciation, they might have chosen to sit on the floor otherwise.

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She returned handing a tied cloth down to him.

“My thanks.”

“If it’s labor doing this, then I… Well maybe we could fetch someone.”

He rose, to his feet, cold snow pressing against his forehead. “No, it’s only one more. Even then it’s not the weight straining my mind.”

“Then your thoughts dwindle on the lords?”

“Yours do not?” He questioned in shock moving around the table.

“I do, we all do. This one?” She pointed down to a winded crest a sword piercing through it.

 He nodded, and broke the panel free carrying it over to the others. She moved the table together again, it was much smaller now.

“I believe that’s all.” She seemed worried at the thought of him saying otherwise.

“Five families, good people destroyed. Mural, your assistance has been an immense help. Go on home now. The meeting here will begin shortly.”

“Yes, Mr. Host. Take care.” She beamed, exiting the room.

He moved the panels one by one into a side room. A repurposed ticket booth, as a closet. Dusting himself off he inspected every inch of the room one last time. Meticulously straightening all the quill’s and ink. Looking downward on the table making sure no debris or dust had formed in the last few minutes. All was perfect, for the troubling night.

Host stood outside, and waited, the fresh snow puttered in the darkness. The street leading to him dimly lit with lamp lights, and a singular light lower the ground, approached. He opened the door in great respects.

“Lord Silver of Tenpoint.” He greeted

The tall man final under the cover of an overhang dusted the snow from his coat. He shook his head clumps of snow falling from the antlers. Deep black circles had formed under his eyes, and much like the Host, look exceedingly troubled.

“Host. Thank you for prepping the station on such short notice.”

“You look very tire lord. Perhaps a short kip before the others all arrive. I would wake you before everyone was seated.”

“No need. I can rest when this. Matter is resolved. Am I first?”

“As always.”

He sighed, straightening himself. “Splendid.” Entering the building.

Host looked back to the street, then called back. “Lord, is it just you?”

He stopped, “Yes, I believe it will be mostly heads this evening.” He continued inside.

Host waited by the door feeling more concerned than before. The snow fell harder right on cue for another light to appear, three lanterns bore through the night. A large wolf stomped his feet followed by two others, who looked viciously towards the Host. One of them sneered out. “Eyes elsewhere runt!” The fist of the larger one came down on him, bringing him to silence.

Host opened the door, the large wolf pointed inward harshly. His lackey’s ears folded down in submission and carried in bags.

Host closed the door. “Lord Maugrim Ulf of Lycanis.”

“Host.” The wolf bent down placing a large paw on the goat’s shoulder. “Apologizes for my help. They are protective, especially now. How do you fair?”

“I am in a bad way. Lord Hawk’s entire family was wiped out.”

“I know you respected her. As head of security, the blame is mine.”

“No. Hawk, Bull. They each left and each died. The only blame is on them, do not for a moment believe, that this was you’re doing or responsibility.”

The wolf stood, letting Host open the door again. “Your words are encouraging. We are going to need that kind of mindset in the coming months.”

The wolf patted the Host on the back moving inside. The door closed, it was only a moment afterwards an argument broke out. Lord’s Maugrim Ulf and Silver began bickering their voices muffled through the door Host stood behind. They yelled in a violent sadness, what they said and how it was said was lost to the howl of the winter storm. Host stepped further away. The lord’s wrath lost, in the thoughts of progress. But who was he kidding, after what happened nothing could ever be the same.

-=End of Prologue=-