Prologue

Andre grimaced as he sorted through the assortment of guts, intestine's, and semi-decomposed food. His hands trembled slightly as they meticulously laid out the intestines in the proper formation. The smell at least had faded, as a westerly wind blew it away from his face and into the floating, wolfs skull in front of him.

Green fires burned brightly in the animals eye sockets, contrasting sharply to the starless sky. A sense of malevolence and hate radiated from the skull. Andre could imagine the skull salivating in anticipation of the kill. Shivering he looked back to his work to find that everything was prepared. All he had to do was chant the proper incantations and the divination could begin.

"What are you waiting for?" The voice asked impatient. "We have little time to lose. For all we know the White Councils Hound is right behind us. Begin!"

Sensing the fear and anger in the Spirits voice Andre frowned, worried. Then with a look of concentration he began the incantations. Slowly a pentagon made out of the young woman's entails began to glow, so entranced in his work Andre failed to notice when the slight golden glow that represented his magical energies began to glow in a reddish hue.

As his incantation began to near its end, he caught the feeling of impending doom. A fear like none he had known before began to flow through him. Faintly he heard the spirit hissing yes repeatedly, excitement plain in the spirits voice. Then the visions started to wash over him.

Visions of a man, young, he had a kind face with a trusting smile. As Andre looked closer at the man the sense of doom deepened. He stared paralyzed knowing that nothing good would come of this. The young man suddenly stiffened and turned around, eyes flashing red. Andre saw his death in the man's eyes. Another wave of fear and dread rolled over him. A scream rose in his throat as he tried to end the spell.

It was morning when he awoke; the woman's body had turned to ash erasing any evidence of the previous night's misdeeds. Andre was tempted to try to convince himself that nothing had happened, that it had all been a dream. However, the faint tremor in his hands and the dim light in the spirits eyes told him different. He had been frightened when the spirit had informed him that the White Council's watch dogs were onto him, yet now he knew true fear. He had looked his death in the face and found himself wanting. So doing the only thing he could he sat there and started to think. Knowing that if he was going to survive, he would need help. Looking at the skull intently, he began to formulate a plan.

NOTE: this is a first draft any sugestions are WELCOME so plz tell me what you think good bad or horrible.