THE BLACK RATS DROPPED INTO THE KINGDOM GROUNDS AT MID MORNING, six fleet silhouettes blacken against the wall. The lower level of the ground was high; the fall was compress like clouds. The unpleasant sound of their breaths was silent like snow. They Jump, and they run through concrete streets—like cats hunting for mice. Five seconds they crouched there, low and motionless, sniffing at the air. Then away they run, through the dark allies of Wolves Dale. Their grayish pink feet were tiptoes like dogs, making no sound from the separate drops rain hitting the ground. They were silent like ravens, with sharp eyes like Eagles. They were quick-witted rats of the Black Kingdoms of Morgus Fang. Their black outdoor overgarments cameo their looks; no one could see their physical structure running through the streets at early morning. (They were more intelligent than a deer hiding in the woods from their prey). Their black cloaks flitted at their bodies, fragmenting their shadows into wisps and traces. Each rodent of Morgus Fang were military commanders, who go and spy on the gray arctic hare’s rulers of Wolves Dale. It was their job to go there and study their war strategy and used them for themselves. But how are they going to watch and hear the war strategies in the counseling halls of Wolves Dale? Simple, just jump on the roof and look for a crack. It’s simple for a filthy black rat. The Winter of the morning was a shadow: the air was freezing. Above the clay houses, a cold round moon shone down, slathering silver across the roofs and courtyards of Wolves Dale. The morning moonset was beautiful. To black rats, it was physically nauseating. But for one Black rat, named by Tovus Iron Beak, it was a silver blood moon before the day of reckoning. Tovus Iron Beak was extremely skillful with combat strategies, even the animals of Noregevldi fear Tovus Iron Beak. He was the winter warlord of Abaddon the Destroyer, the disgustingly dirty prince of all Demogorgon.