The moon shines in the sky above, the circle of red around it an omen if there ever was one. Blood on the moon, a sign of trouble to come. Shadows creep along the snow, only some of them belonging to the four Weir that trek further and further from the Silverspire and eventually deep into the Icemane lands. It is cold, and their breath fogs the air. The wood around them grows twisted, even for Weirmonken, and definitely more twisted then it should be here.

Rae has been uncharacteristicly silent, solemn, through the journey. A firm set to her jaw, her nose lifted to catch scents on the wind. Her eyes glaze over from time to time, or nearly glow crimson.

Faelin is not the only one with keen senses in the group. However, she has not slacked off in her contributing to this venture just because of that. Occasionally venturing out, she's scouted the area around them with a dedication that might be called paranoia. Never too far, just short jaunts that expand their reach and knowledge. Always returning and now back.

Danica is swift and untiring on four limbs or two, she spends most of the journey on four but toward the end of the journey switches to two. She barely leaves a track behind her until she starts to slow down, not just running to reach a destination, but moving toward a goal. Paranoia is not a bad choice of reaction when dealing with Sevastian

Zane has travelled as a dark shape on four legs, allowing him to be aware of sights and sounds, as well as scents that he might miss on two feet. Occasionally he's glanced at Danica but has not spoken to her during the journey but he hasn't said much to Faelin or Rae either. Just a large, quiet, black wolf treading over once familiar ground.

Rae has spent most of the trip as a wolf, crimson and black. She may be unfamiliar with the lands, but something propells her forward. The deeper into the wood they get, the more certain she seems of their ultimate destination. She nods to the three she travels with, as if reassurance.

RPG: Danica challenges a difficulty of 7, using her Grace plus SKL-DS. Danica overwhelmingly succeeds.
RPG: Zane challenges a difficulty of 7, using his Wits plus SKL-HU. Zane almost succeeds.
RPG: Faelin challenges a difficulty of 7, using her Grace plus SKL-HU. Faelin succeeds.

Privately, to Faelin, the sounds coming from the woods are not quite from animals in the traditional sense of the world. There are Weir on the prowl, and they are not your companions.
Privately, to Danica, there are sounds coming from the woods that do not belong to prey. The quartet is being stalked by other Weir. Five of them, all male, and three of them in their wolven forms.
Privately, to Zane, no one here but us Weir. Really. You're quite sure.

Faelin stills, raising her chin and sniffing the air. Her hackles are raised in alarm, tail held out straight in non-verbal language that will convey her sensing something better than words to her companions. Though, clarification will need more. She rrrs very softly and then adds, "Other Weir around."

Danica growls and flares her nostrils despite being in human form. The instinct of the wolf trumps the polite manners of society. "Five," Danica's voice is soft knowing very well there are others that might be listening. "Three on four limbs."

Zane looks shyly towards the others when they mention the presence of other Weir. His Mom gets an extra look when she names numbers and forms. He goes still and shifts into his human form, slinging his bow from his shoulder and knocking an arrow quietly.

Rae, for her part, looks impressed. She shifts upwards, adjusting her cloak around her as she draws to her full height. Gaze scanning the wood, she comments lowly to her companions, "If we wish to start the lesson here, dispatch of those in wolf form. Only temporary death." The silver, perhaps, is to be saved for their true goal.

The five that move through the woods have the knowledge of the recently twisted landscape to their advantage. What they don't have is patience. They spring forward out of darkness, the three wolves, snarling and twisted in their own right.

Faelin is shifting to human even as Danica speaks and, just like Zane and Rae, she looks impressed. She opens her mouth to speak, one hand poised to gesture as the other Weir pounce out. She instantly falls back, reaching for short sword.

RPG: Faelin challenges a difficulty of 5, using her Grace plus STY-MH. Faelin overwhelmingly succeeds.
RPG: Zane challenges a difficulty of 5, using his Force plus SKL-AR. Zane succeeds.
RPG: Danica challenges a difficulty of 5, using her Grace plus STY-DF. Danica overwhelmingly succeeds.

Danica falls back at the sudden attack reverting to Weir form. She moves very quickly, springing back and growling instead of leaping into immediate conflict.

Rae steps back. Her hand is on the hilt of her sabre, but she does not draw it. The dispatching of their stalkers, it seems, would fall to her companions. Her eyes gleam, and she looks towards the woods, silent and tracking something.

Zane draws back and takes aim, releasing his arrow through the night. It strikes true, piercing the chest of the one of the wolves and sinking deeply through flesh and past bone to bury in the heart. That wolf will be glad that a normal arrow was used and not one of the silver ones that Zane brought along with him.

Danica has had too much time to dwell on what she might do with Sevastian's mooks if they fell upon her. She stops the retreating to launch herself at the one coming in her direction. Tooth, claws, blood and more blood. The blood on the moon may have inspired her, she wants to see it run into the snow, the act of aggression not causing her pain and grief to fade but giving a face to the enemy. It's better that she didn't use silver, she craves this blood and death. Her mane becomes soaked with blood and snow and still she's trying to mangle.

Faelin drops to her knees, back arching as she falls backward even as the white furred weir sails over her. It is nearly perfect in the arch of its pounce, but Faelin is not there. Her blade, however, is. The Weir passes over. She starts to roll to the side. The Weir hits the ground and does not come up. Faelin comes up, face and clothing patterned with the drops of the red rain.

The trio of Weir are left, dead or dying, those that cling to life whimpering in pain. The two that traveled in human form do not attack, though they have their weapons drawn, steel glinting in the shadows.

"We come to speak with Sevastian," Rae calls to the shadows, the words answered by growls as even more Weir approach. "And it is not wise to stand in our way."

Zane has another arrow nocked and ready, aimed at the two still holding weapons. There's a cold smile on his lips as he waits for a reason to shoot down another foe.

Danica growls and chews on her Weir for a little longer before pulling back to roll in the snow. She leaves dark spots against the white and then shakes violently to get rid of both blood and ice.

Faelin flicks her sword to the side to send the worst of the blood splattering from it. She drops it then, leaving it to stand up point first in the snow. She draws her bow to nock an arrow and target the second of the two weir remaining.

"And who are you to demand audience?," one of the two men asks, rather blonde and quite obviously a Weir meant for war. There are streaks of black in his hair, unnatural. Four other men are soon flanking him.

 Rae's only reply to that is a haughty little snort.

Zane lowers the bow and steps forward, voice ringing loudly and with a presence through the darkness. "I am Zane Icemane, son of Tyrus and Danica Icemane. You will part and allow us through or your blood will stain the snow along with those who already lay at our feet." He snarls at them next, "I will kill no Icemane who stands before me but those who are not, will find there is no redemption, life will end this night if you do not step aside."

Danica's reply is a low growl as she snaps at snow and a bloody drool starts to fall from her muzzle. Her tail sweeps the snow as she prepares to pounce at any that fire or charge.

Three of the men snort, each of them darker than normal of complextion, black of hair. Each of them also bear a star-shaped scar on their face, seen now in a shifting of light. "You are nothing but weakness made flesh," one replies in a low growl, laughter in it. The blonde does not move forward, but the three black-haired Weir do, wicked intent on their features, blades in their hands. Two lunge for Zane, and underestimate Danica, only one going her way.

Zane's father taught him well, his bow brought up and arrow thudding into the chest of one even as his bow falls to the snow. The silver sword stolen from Rae is drawn quickly to engage the other. True to his word, he takes down his opponents, spilling the innards of the second before removing the head of the first wounded with by the arrow. The one clutching at his guts staggers towards Danica.

Faelin doesn't move, still and calm as she releases and her arrow speeds towards the blonde and a very specific target at his groin.
More meat for the meat eaters! Danica pounces as she planned, moving in ways that few can understand and going for painful and bloody disembowelment. The black-haired Weir on her will recover but it will not be a pleasant recovery. So much for cleaning herself up, blood pours from the wounds caused by teeth and claws and it's her plan to drag entrails into the snow. Death should be unpleasant, even for those who recover from it and there is plenty of time for pain and agony before the last rictus of death sets into the snow and blood covered corpse. In all this 'play' she may not have noticed the one that Zane wounded, but as the weapon comes down toward her blood slickened fur, she rolls into him at the last moment tripping with him in the snow.

There is a hiss, a growl, from the woods as silver is drawn and rains true death upon those that stood against Zane. And, oddly enough, some manic laughter. It may have somewhat to do with the blonde that is crying out in pain, clutching his groin, or the display of entrails being chewed on by Danica.

Rae, now, turns toward another, blonder-blonde. "Bring us to Sevastian," she growls, the circle of crimson in her eyes expanding, until her irises are completely red. "Now."

 The very blond Weir looks to his companions, nods, and turns. Treking deeper into the woods, towards a firelight gathering. More of the dark-skinned, dark-haired Weir can be seen, each of them marked by a crude star scar.

Zane stabs his sword into the snow to cleanse it of the blood, using the movement to also lift his bow up as well. He follows, cautious as he slides the sword back into the scabbard but keeps his fingers curled around the hilt.

Danica rolls again in the snow but largely gives up on cleaning her bloody fur. She pads over to follow Zane.

The quartet continue towards the fire, becoming more greatly surrounded by hostile Weir as they do so. Yet no one seems to have the unwise idea to attempt to dispose of them. Rae looks a bit wary, but still walks with confidence.

Before the fire stands a man that could be Kazimir, if it were not for the more feral cast to his features, the complete lack of kindness in his eyes. Sevastian. And he, too, is marked with a star.

Faelin falls into line beside Zane as she walks with the group. Her own sword is resheathed, bow back in its place. She looks around, pale eyes scanning the faces of Sevestian's people.

Zane remains wary as he glances around but it's Sevastian he reserves his attention for. He knows this man, having spent many years watching him for Kazimir and his eyes are filled with hatred for the man who took his father.

Danica settles to the ground grooming the blood from her mane. There are some bits of grizzle that she spits out and her teeth dig at matted bits as if she were not interested in the coversation. However, her tail sweeps the ground, she is almost mad enough to launch herself at anyone that causes trouble.

"These weaklings, these excuses for Weir, are what come and demand my pressence?," comes from Sevastian, haughtily, as he looks down upon those before him. "Shouldn't you be licking Kazimir's boots, boy?," is aimed towards Zane.

Zane's jaw twitches and his fingers tighten further around the hilt of his sword, "Such words from a man who allows himself to bear the mark of another. I'm no slave, Sevastian, unlike you and those others gathered here."

Faelin looks over Sevastian, slow and thorough. Then raises her brows and allows her lips to quirk upward in humor.

Danica acts as if she has nothing on her mind except cleaning her coat. Insults like 'weakling' bounce off while she is stained with the blood of her enemies.

"The Weir have become weak," Sevastian hisses. "Caught up in the trappings of men and Amberites. We are no slaves, only what we once were. Standing by those that would lead us to greatness once more and free us from the oppressive heel of Amber." He spits the word out, snarling. "My brother, your father, are too *blind* to realize that the halfbreed that calls himself our Regent is nothing but a snivelling excuse for a leader."

Rae says nothing, though her eyes gleam with anger, her hands clench into fists at her sides.

"You think I don't know that?" Zane asks Sevastian. "Do you think I enjoy bowing down to him and watching as others do likewise?" He takes a step towards Sevastian, "Kazimir had me watch you for so many years, Sevastian, do you think in all that time your words never struck a chord in me?"

Danica's growl is low as she lifts her head to watch Zane advance toward Sevastian.

"That is something that can be argued," Faelin agrees smoothly, soft but strong. "Amber takes from us and gives little back. Do you know who told me that? Your brother. But, why do you not act like a Weir and do the proper thing about it? If you doubt Emrys' rule go and Challenge him. You want the right to lead, then take it properly." She gestures and her voice raises, rings, "But you don't. You sit here and you /talk/. You /talk/ as much or more than the people of Amber, Sevastian. And you kidnap. Challenge properly. And while you are at it, why don't you speak of Tyrus."

Sevastian's eyes flash, a darkness in them. "You do not have to bow to *him*," he says, stepping towards Zane now. "Join us. Follow with us, for we are on the path to greatness." He looks then, to Danica, as if she were nothing more than an ant about to be squashed beneath his paw, before Faelin speaks and gains his attention. "When I am done, there will be no Regent. No ties to Amber. Only the Warleader, as it was in the days of our glory."
"And I will be him," Sevastian says, drawing up, cocky in tone.

Zane drops his hand away from his sword and tosses his bow to the ground, "And I will bear your mark in place of this scar?" He lifts his off hand to the scar on his left cheek, "Serve you and only you? What of my father, Sevastian? Will he stand with us or against us?"

Danica goes back to picking out the matted blood from her fur but she hasn't stopped paying attention to Sevastian.

Faelin raises her chin as she waits for the answer to that. She also shifts towards her left, taking up subtle position behind Zane.

RPG: Zane challenges a difficulty of 7, using his Force plus SKL-MA PHY-ST SKL-AR. Zane succeeds.
RPG: Danica challenges a difficulty of 9, using her Grace plus SKL-DS. Danica succeeds.

"Yes," Sevastian replies, with eagerness to his voice. "We will bear the mark of the Great One and he will stand by us as we fight our way to glory, to reclaim Weirmonken for ourselves!" A pause, then. "Your father would stand in our way, Zane. Would you allow our obstacles to remain? He must be -killed-." He glances, then, towards Danica.

Privately, to Danica, there is something in the woods. A presence that is not -quite- Weir to your nose. It smells of old blood and long-forgotten places.

Zane unbuckles his swordbelt and lets that fall to the ground as he steps closer to Sevastian, lips twisted upwards into a smile to match Sevastian's enthusiasm. "Then he must die and his mate with him, we cannot allow any who are weak to oppose us, Sevastian." Zane's right hand dips his pocket and he removes a small knife that Danica and Faelin might recognize as the one he whittles with. It appears he's going to toss that aside too as he seeks to embrace Sevastian, joining this madness. Only the knife doesn't fall to the ground it flips in the air and is caught as Zane clutches Sevastian's shirt, pulling him close and driving the blade into his eye. "I bear the Regent's mark, you filth! Never yours!"

Danica's head jerks toward the woods and she signals with a growl to Zane the danger, before voicing after spitting out hair and blood, "Old danger in the woods."

Rae's eyes widen slightly, though it doesn't seem to be at the display between Sevastian and Zane. Perhaps she trusted Kazimir's right-hand-wolf too much to think him serious. She looks to the woods instead, and her eyes glaze over.

Faelin slings her bow from her shoulder, moving smoothly to notch an arrow and step, her back towards Zane's back. The arc of her line of fire is run through as a warning to any of Sevastian's people who might seek to jump in.

Sevastian howls out in agony as his eye is brought to ruin at the hand of Zane. "You will pay!," he hisses, shoving Zane back and using his other hand to tear the knife out of his eye. It does not come out cleanly, and it is a gorey scene indeed. But still, he reaches for his blade. "YOU WILL ALL BE CRUSHED!"

RPG: Zane challenges a difficulty of 10, using his Force plus WEI-AM SKL-MA PHY-ST SKL-AR. Zane succeeds.

Those that joined with Sevastian may be twisted, wicked, and desire the shedding of Amberite blood, but they are still Weir. They still respect the sacred rules of a challenge, and that is what this is. None of them attempt to interfere, but they all look like they wish to. Some look towards the woods, in the same direction as Danica and Rae, where something can be heard creeping.

Danica turns her attention from the fight between Sevastian and her son to the creeping danger in the woods. She moves to a stand and is ready to spring past those in the camp to whatever advances.

Though it may shock and surprise some, Faelin is not a trusting woman. Not by a long shot. She remains as guard to ensure that this challenge goes fairly. Her bow does not waver. The potential upshot of that is that her line of fire also includes the woods.

Having been forced backwards by Sevastian, Zane twists and dives for the ground, his hands closing upon the sword he let drop. When he rises to face Sevastian, the silver blade is already drawn and waiting to spill blood. The two of them circle each other slowly, blood dripping down Sevastian's face and twisting him into a cruel parody of his noble brother, Kazimir. Together they roar loudly, one in madness the other for honor and they charge each other, blades clanging together in a deadly dance of metal. Sevastian might be twisted, scarred within and without now but his skill cannot be questioned and Zane's blood splatters over the snow, his skin slicing open where the would be Warleader's sword carves through flesh. Pain mars the twisted features of Sevastian as he finds his own blood flowing from wounds to his body as Zane strikes in return. Stepping back, spinning away, they stare at each other, both sporting bloody gashes and there may be a glimmer of fear in Sevastian's eyes just as there is determination in Zane's. Their blades clang again, back and forth, high and low, even as their bodies absorb punches and knees to vulnerable spots such as ribs. The two Icemanes come together as one and fall together, Sevastian on his back, Zane on his knees as his sword rams into the soft flesh of Sevastian's stomach, pinning him to the frozen ground stained with their blood.

Rae's attention seems torn between watching the epic battle of Icemanes and the creeping in the woods. As Sevastian and Zane fall, however, she looks to Danica. "I'll watch your backs," she says softly, as if expecting the woman to want to join her son in the final killing blow. For Sevastian, well...

Sevastian still lives, but barely. "You think you've stopped me. The change that will come. But it is only the start," he says, gurgling blood. The ground around him darkens with it, and wickedly twisting vines start to push through the earth. "There will be a new age of blood and glory."

The Weir start to fade into the woods, or at least the darker colored ones. The Icemanes that would have followed Sevastian down his path of destruction fall upon their knees.

Danica slowly moves her attention from the woods to the Weir lord. She does not jump in for the final kill, coated as she is with blood it may have assuaged some of her passion for death. Still, she springs toward Zane, willing to back him up even against wicked twisting vines.
Bow is dropped and silver sword is drawn. Faelin shifts, ready to match Danica in their flanking protection of Zane. However, unlike Danica, her attention is shifting along the pendulum back towards the creeping in the woods. "... anyone picking up anything?" She asks quietly.

Zane tells Sevastian through gritted teeth, "Your age is at an end." Taking Sevastian's sword, he starts carving into the other Icemane's chest to honor an oath to Rae. He calls to the other Icemane's on their knees, "If you remember honor, you will flee this place and you will gather at Schenn and bow before Kazimir and beg him for mercy. Pray he does not tear out your throats."

"Zane," Faelin asks, hopefully before Sev is beyond answering, "Ask him where your father is?"

Zane is brought out of his bloodlust by Faelin's voice, having forgotten everything else but killing Sevastian. "Where's Tyrus? Where's my father?"

No great attack comes in uprising from the woods, though there is a chorus of dark howls. And at the edge of the circle of light the fire casts stands a figure. Cloaked, features hidden, save for the ice-blue glow of his eyes. He watches for a moment, and then in a voice that is low and ancient, speaks: "My age will rise once more, and this time, it will not fail."

 Whomever the man is, his appearance startles Rae enough so that she nearly falls on her rear. She rushes towards him, growling and snarling, "You."

Sevastian is not beyond answering, or spitting blood into Zane's face. The cloaked figure, however, responds, "Three miles west of here. You will find no one in your way for the rescue." The words, they are enough to give the attacking Rae pause.

Zane looks up at that cloaked figure but knows him not. Sevastian's actions end as Zane cuts open his chest and thrusts his hand into the cavity, pulling the heart free from within. Holding the bloody organ, he turns his head to look at Rae, worried about her now.

Faelin stills. Her expression becomes inscrutinable as she looks at this cloaked person.

The cloaked figure chuckles as eyes move to him, and then turns his attention to Rae. In a glimmer of moonlight, a blade appears in his hand, silver and shining. "This is what you expected, is it not? What your mind would make of me?" The dagger is tossed, and thuds into the ground. "You will join us, or fall in our wake. Enjoy your victory tonight, for it shall be short lived." A step backwards is taken, and the forest itself seems to swallow the man up.

A heartbeat later, the vines start to twist around Sevastian, pulling at his body, dragging it below ground. One vine wraps around Zane's ankle, like they would take him as well.

Danica snaps at the twisting vines circling Zane's ankle, growling and digging at the ground with her claws.

Faelin shakes her head sharply, even as she's twisting to bring her blade around. Danica is already there and silver will not be risked. However, if more vines spring up or claw and teeth are not enough to sever, the huntress will be there.

Zane yanks his leg back, aiming to free it from the grip of that vine with the aid of the others about him. Sevastian's body means nothing to him as it disappears beneath the dirt, all save for his heart.

The vines bite and hiss, their thorns marking their legs. Even Rae, in her distance, is not left un-scratched. She watches the woods for a moment, then lifts her voice. "Do as your packmate has told you. Return to Kazimir and hope for mercy, be that forgiveness or a killing blow." She looks then towards Zane, and then the heart in his hands, pulling a silver box out of a small bag. The box is opened, and held out. "And so the madness of Sevastian ends." The vines give up on their attempt to claim living victims and skulk back into the earth.

Faelin falls back then, looking around for the next enemy. She raises her chin and scents the air. "I hope you are right, Rae."

Danica falls back as the vines give up their attempt to claim the living. She digs at the earth a little longer trying to scent something there.

Zane pulls the last vestige of cut vine from his leg and tosses it away in disgust before moving towards Rae. The heart is placed into the box, "For my father and for Kazimir," he tells Rae. One Icemane stands, bowing his head to both Rae and Zane before turning tail and running in the direction of Schenn. It only takes one to set the example, the rest soon following in his wake. Those few who are lost, follow the darkness into the woods to be dealt with another time.

Rae nods as she closes the box. "Both would be proud of the skill you showed this night." She looks to the three, then to the west. "I cannot go with you to seek him. I must bring the Regent what was demaned of me."

"Go," Faelin says, "But be careful." She smiles, "Yes?"

Danica nods and runs after Zane. If there is clean up to be done, she is willing to help him do it.

Zane places a bloody hand to Rae's shoulder, "Stay safe and remain in the light, Rae. No Icemane will seek to harm you within these lands, not now as word spreads of Sevastian's fall." Even as he speaks, they can hear the howl of one wolf and soon another.

"Always," Rae replies to Faelin before looking to Zane with a faint smile. "Go, and find your father. As you say, I will be safe." She places the box into her bag and shifts, taking off across the snow in a full run.