After weeks of preparation, Mog determined it was time to summon Connor Madath-Aliuth from the hell in which Mog had trapped Connor's soul, in order to serve him at his whim. Mog wasn't stupid or arrogant enough to think Connor enjoyed being summoned by him. Connor had made that very, very plain...several times. Over the years, Mog had learned to only summon Connor when he really needed him - and he needed Connor's help now. It was not help willingly given, but compelled because of Mog possessing Connor's soul. Gwidion however had broken that hold when he promised Connor that he would free his soul from Mog, if Connor would only make a pretension of helping Mog against them. This was something Connor readily agreed to do. He believed in Gwidion and knew Gwidion was in secret even more powerful than Mog with all his stolen souls and powers. The summoning began and Mog dispatched his victim, convinced it was a necessary thing to shed blood to summon the Wolf-King. Connor appeared from out of the vessel in which his soul was kept in a noxious cloud reeking of the stench of partial death and decay, furious at Mog for having slain yet another innocent soul. "I TOLD YE NEVER TO DO THAT AGAIN, LAST TIME YA SUMMONED ME...AN' THE TIME BEFORE, YA VILE DISGUSTIN' LITCH!!! What do ya want o' me nooooow - Master?" His mighty voice echoed through the chamber, like the roar of a flood of hell-fire. Connor had been fearsome in life. He was even moreso in death. The last word was said with so much contempt it made Mog cringe. He suddenly wished he hadn't done this because Connor was different this time - less abject. Much less. Was he losing his hold on him? In spite of his misgivings at this late stage, it was not good form to show doubt or fear, so he pulled himself together and looked the terrifying shade squarely in the eye. "I need you to protect me from those who would have me dead, when they come...Gwidion for one, Magnus...your son, Morgan and that vile cur of Ursala's, Beren." Connor stared down at him with those glaring red eyes for a long moment, snarling deep in his throat. "Ya want me ta kill me best pupil an' me own son...FOR YOOOOOOOUUU!?" "Ye forget...," Mog began. "I FORGET NOTHING!!" Connor roared. He hung his head then, feigning acquiescence to the self-styled Dark Lord. "As ye command, Master. So shall it be. May I go now and leave you with your bloody mess?" "No. You must stay near me and protect me!" Mog demanded petulently. He keenly felt Damara's departure from him. In spite of the fact he always boasted he was much more powerful than she was, he'd depended on her many times to do his dirty work. Now, she was gone, and he knew where - over to the other side. There was another snarl from Connor. "As ye will, Master Mog. As ye will." Connor stayed but he turned his back on Mog and allowed himself to smile - just a little. ***** Background is Cista Sanctus (DAZ), which I've had for awhile but been saving for this occasion. Connor's skin was done by me. He's many layers of a single .png over the .psd of Mog, etc. Some were heavily blurred and then several different blending modes used for the layers. Some layers were turned a nice bilious green, while others were left their original color. MystiKel Clouds and Lightning, and Glitter Smoke brushes from Obsidian Dawn over the merged layers on yet another layer. By the way if you don't know all 'Gothic Buildings' are on sale right now over at DAZ for real cheap. A good opportunity to get some creepy props :) Thanks for your comments and time dear friends. Sorry for the bloody implications but this is Mog the Slimeball. Tomorrow night, back to the ladies in waiting. Cheers! Rayvn