[bg=white][size=+2]SOMEWHERE IN THE NORTH OF THE LANDS OF THE SHAPESHIFTERS...[/size]
[size=+1]The landscape was harsh and uninviting; snow covered the mountainous terrain, blizzards whirled into life with terrifying frequency. This was not a place most would consider hospitable.
Yet the men and women who crept along the edge of the valley knew this region to be home.
Even at this distance the Spire was clearly visible, the vast twisting mountain piercing up into the sky as though trying to skewer the stars. The small group of people, no more than a dozen of them, were clad fully in white as they watched the valley below, rendering them next to invisible amidst the snow and ice.
"I see them," growled the one at the front, the eldest and leader of the group, "Are you prepared for what comes next, my brethren?" There was a chorus of grunts to the affirmative. "Heill, my siblings. Surround them and then move in to strike; kill their horses first and let none escape. We strike to incapacitate, not kill. We have a message to send here."
In the valley a cluster of figures appeared. Darkly-clad soldiers mounted upon horses guarding a carriage that moved slowly amidst the snow.
"Have the parasites arrived, Gunther?" one of the men behind asked the leader.
"They have," Gunther replied, a smile crossing his scarred face. He turned to the group so that he might address them properly. "Wait until they are halfway through the valley. Two of you hang back to ensure that any would-be escapees are caught." He turned to the largest man in the group, a mountain of a man covered in thick black hair beneath his white clothing. "Bielski?" The man-mountain grunted. "You will attack the carriage; destroy the horses and overturn it. Make sure the ones inside are not harmed too much... yet." Bielski grunted and nodded to the affirmative. Gunther turned back to the valley and waited. "Very well, my brethren, ágæti."
They watched the procession in the valley below silently, like predators stalking prey. The carriage and it's guards crept through the snow, and soon came to the centre-point of the valley. Gunther snarled and rose to his feet. "Attack the air, brethren!" Howling their battle-cries, the dozen warriors launched themselves from the top of the valley soaring through the air and down towards the carriage. Their forms shifted as they fell, growing hair, claws and in strength.
Eleven wolfmen and a werebear crashed into the valley and launched themselves upon the carriage and it's guards.
The majority of the guards were on the ground or dead before they even knew what was upon them, torn to shreds by the claws of their attackers. One or two of them managed to tug blades from their sheathes and ride to defend the carriage; Gunther dashed forwards to face these threats, rending upon the throat of one of the soldier's horses before hurling himself into the second one, body-slamming the rider from his mount.
Bielski let out a thunderous roar as he slammed his vast form into the carriage, now in the form of a huge black bear walking upon it's hind legs. The carriage was literally knocked into the air for a moment before it came crashing down again. With a snarl of triumph, the werebear set upon the horses, tearing them to shreds.
Within a minute the ambush was over; the soldiers lay wounded or dead, the carriage lay on it's side with Bielski watching it carefully. Gunther let out a howl of victory and returned to his human form. "Hitta, brethren!" he cried, motioning them all to return to him. The White Spiral Dancers complied, returning to their original forms as they did. "Are there any of you wounded?" Gunther asked, a note of concern in his voice. One of the braves, a young man on his first excursion from the Spire, raised his arm to reveal a painful looking gash down it. "Someone tend to his wounds," Gunther ordered, "We have done well. Bring forth the survivors; Bielski, retrieve the parasites in the carriage."
His heavy footsteps thudding through the blood-stained snow, Bielski tore off the carriage doors and peered inside for a moment before dragging two finely-clad figures from it. The pair struggled, but thee werebear's grip was like that of a vice that held them locked in place. They were deposited before Gunther and his warriors, who bent down to check both of them carefully. Their pale skin and fangs revealed them to be vampires; both were well dressed in court finery that could not have looked more out-of-place amidst the snowy wastes and white-clad Dancers. The elder of the pair wore a heavy metal symbol on a chain around his neck; it was this that Gunther checked.
"This is the one we seek," he told his followers, "kill the rest now, and do it fast; our time runs short." The elder vampire snarled and bared his teeth.
"I hope you're aware of the fate you are sealing by doing this, dog!" he spat, "I am the ambassador of the Kingdom of Blood! There will be war over the blood you have spilled tonight!"
"That was our intention, parasite," Gunther said without expression before turning back to his followers, "Stake this one and leave him for the sun to purify. Be sure to leave the symbol of his office on the carriage so all will know what we have started today. With this we bring the Great War ever closer, my brethren! Let's get to work!"[/size][/bg]
