The beds the Nameless Clan supplied were rough but to Eroket and Jald, who had spent the last few days sleeping on the grass, on the stones and even in the mud when they had to, the finest inn in Gair, nay, the most comfortable room in a Northern Lord's palace could not compare to the comfort they found at the moment.

Eroket grinned widely, tossing down his sword and leaping back on the bed, bouncing lightly before he began to laugh. "This is great, Jald!"
Jald allowed himself a snort of amusement and shook his head, grinning lightly himself. "If you break that rough thing, our employers may be a little upset…"

Eroket smirked lightly, kicking his boots off and stretching luxuriously. "Jald, if you even begin to lecture me, I'm gonna knock you out."

Jald cocked an eyebrow, amused smile gone in a second. "Oh, I see…and how are you going to do- "His words were cut off as a pillow smacked into his face. "Ok, Eroket, very amusing. I know you like to unwind but this is just childi-"The pillow smacked him again.

"Stop it!" He yelled, raising his arms to shield his head, hiding the laughter that threatened to erupt from his belly.

"Come on! You must be feeling old," Eroket teased with another grin, "If you can let an upstart like me humiliate the great Manticore with a pillow!"

"I'll show you old!" Jald growled, grabbing the pillow off his bed and taking a swing, hitting Eroket in the shoulder to which the ermine promptly retaliation with a strike to the leg.

The tension they had built up over the last few days seemed to fade, replaced by the oh-so rare feeling of ease and comfort, of being able to unwind and let loose as they so rarely did.

When their energy was spent, both the ermine and the ferret dropped back to the bed, both laughing happily. Jald smirks and cracked his knuckles, tossing the soft pillow back on his bed. "I've got to hand it to you, kid. You know how to make for a good enjoyment that doesn't involve alcohol or death."

"I guess it's a Nightblade thing." Eroket replied with a light wink of an amber eye. The two laughed again and Jald's grin widened.

"Oh, you have no idea how irritating Aleran was when he was in a mood…" Jald laughed and shook his head. "It's nearly been a year since we've started traveling together. We've done a lot, in that time."

Ero's smile turned a bit wistful. "Remember that slaving operation we stopped?"
"The mining one?" Jald smirked and nodded, "How about those religious fanatics who had that city in a stranglehold?"
"First time in my life I've ever been accused of being a 'Hellgates bound heretic!' Eroket laughed again. "Both gave me quite a few good scars…"

"The key is not letting them touch you, little Nightblade."

"That's rich coming from a beast that's covered in them."

"Hey, lay off! We were all young once."
"Oh, the great Jald Nightson admits to being mortal! This is a moment for the ages."

"Shut up." Jald's growl didn't match his smile.

Eroket laughed lightly and shook his head, "What was Odhran like? I keep hearing about him."

Jald shook his head, smirking lightly. "About as unsavory as Geras. Sadistic bastard. The kind to have a guy killed because a girl he wants loves him. Even invented a new torture method. Glad he's in the ground now…"

"Sounds like a prince of a beast," Eroket muttered, rubbing his arm lightly as if recalling something.

"You okay, Eroket?"

"Yeah…the scars here tend to hurt a bit sometimes…"

"From?"

"General Visla…" Eroket replies, pronouncing the name and title as if it were a curse. "Bastard tortured me before he planned to kill me."

Jald's cordial look was replaced by a flicker of sympathy and something else-guilt? "I'm sorry…"

"I've…forgiven you long since, Jald. Visla deserved to die at any rate…"

"There are a lot of rumors, but the only true accounting seems to be with you…you mind telling me?"
"I got free…he was washing his burns by a river and I attacked him. We were swept up by the current…he stuck a knife in me when we came up-a poison one, not enough to kill me. I managed to gash him and shoved him back in the water. It drew pike…" He didn't even need to finish.

Jald nodded once and patted Eroket on the shoulder approvingly. "I'm sorry about our-your soldiers."

"The only one to blame is Visla…"

"I killed Kalis, you know that…"

"You're not that creature anymore, Jald Nightson," Eroket replied softly. "That Jald Nightson is dead…Kalis…would forgive you, I know that. You've done all you can to make amends."

Jald Nightson didn't speak of it anymore; he wanted the somber atmosphere gone and buried. He tried a light smile and patted Eroket's shoulder. "Enough gloom and doom, Ero. Tomorrow, we'll see what we can do. The plan's to head to Meridian, right? Boneflower and Morik are waiting for us."

Eroket nodded and smiled lightly. "Good plan I'll head out tomorrow. My turn to scout anyways…Comrades?"

Jald Nightson put his paw over that of the son of the beast that he considered dear to him as a brother. "You do that. Comrades."

Jald waited to make sure Eroket was asleep before he went to his own bed.

-

Jirik was restless now, to the point of madness.

The black fox's breathing was heavy and his movements erratic. He twitched, bit into his lip, and flexed his claws; all the others, even Hallic were giving him a wide berth.

Harkon sat close to Kardran and Curian, with Hallic a small distance away. There was no fire, for drawing attention to their group in Mossflower Wood was not a wise thing to do. If reports were correct, Nameless Clan territory and groups of woodlanders sympathetic to said clan were very close by. They hoped Jirik could restrain himself long enough to reach the Nameless Clan warriors.

Jirik was thankfully silent; the black fox never shared his discomforts or his pleasures.

"I want to scout alone." Jirik whispered suddenly, black hooded head raising, unblinking crimson eyes narrowed to moon-like slits.

"What?" Curian folded his paws. Jirik may have been the best fighter next to their lord and master, but by all that was holy, Kirathal had put HIM in charge of this hunting party and Curian would be damned if he'd take any insolence or disobedience from even this freak and perversion spawned by House Valrik of the north.

Jirik's voice was steady and calm. "It is obvious to me we are the right path, but is obvious to me the rest of you require rest and sleep. As of this moment, I do not."

"You think I'm stupid enough to let you run off by yourself, Jirik?" Curian stood, not placing a paw on his sword, for he knew the troubles that would invite. For now, flaunting his authority would have to do, "That'd be the equivalent of Lord Kirathal throwing down his weapons, blindfolding himself and tying himself up for good measure in front of Tethik!"
"Lovely analogy," replied Jirik dryly, drawing a snarling snicker from Hallic Thargo, who leaned up against a tree, sharpening the blades of his trident. Harkon stood by calmly with Kardran, both knowing where they'd stand, but neither wanting to take that stand until it became absolutely necessary.

Jirik stood as well, gliding sinuously to his feet, Curian noticed, like a shadow. "I can follow my mission; Curian…didn't Lord Kirathal tell you to use whatever means necessary, as well? I want this new world as much as you…we're in this together…brother." He added as a mocking afterthought.

Curian's teeth grit, weighing his options. There were great plusses, but great negatives to be had as well. Jirik could indeed fulfill their mission or start a massacre or two…

Or get himself killed…the seductive thought passed through his mind and he restrained a smirk. Kirathal would never complain about Jirik's end if it had brought some good…a massacre could only help their cause and their mission? The sooner it was completed the better. "Run along, Jirik…good hunting."

Jirik bowed from the waist down, not bothering to raise his hood as he whispered. "Good hunting indeed."

He turned and sped off into the night. Good hunting; if only Curian knew how good.

-

Dawn cracked slowly over Mossflower Wood and Merrith Falis was a quick riser.

The woodlander groups had been kind and generous to the Nameless Clan in their area, permitting them shelter, food, rest and above all: sanctuary from Geras Iridanis and his mad power play.

Falis accepted a bowl of cool water from a mouse child and drank quickly, nodding to his guards to enjoy themselves. The woods were filled with woodlanders, squirrels, otters, mice, voles and the like; Falis's business had once been run by an otter, the unlamented Odhran and business with woodlander species and even employment was rare, but not unheard of. There was no grudge between species now, he was glad to know.

Falis nodded to one of his guards and whispered, "We've got our beasts set up, right?"

The guard nodded. "Yessir. We established five guards in the woods. If anybeast decides they want to get the drop on us, we'll be read to get you out of here."

Falis sighed with relief. It was in the middle of this sigh, the screams began.

The head of a squirrel landed in the center of the camp. Falis cried out in shocked surprise. "Wha!"

"That wasn't too…artful…" The voice was like honeyed velvet. From the woods…he emerged. A nightmare dressed in a black cloak, bloodstained sword in a paw, stains of crimson covering the cloak.

It was death.

While the woodlanders were slow to react, still thinking nothing this horrible could befall them, Falis's training and instincts took over. "Get him!"

His first guard was already rushing at the black cloaked nightmare that had slain one of their guards-and by the looks of things, all five, Falis thought grimly.

"Skirek, wait, you're-"

"A DEAD FOOL!"

The scream ripped from the throat of the black cloaked nightmare, a swift motion hurling the cloak into the face of the guard, forcing him to take a precious few seconds to disentangle himself. That was all the time the monster needed.

He sprang, kicking off a tree, powerful leg muscles carrying him into the air. "I CLAIM YOUR LIFE!" The howl ripped from his throat. By the time Skirek managed to look up, it was too late. For all his training and years of service, they meant nothing now.

But that was not what tore at Falis's sanity. He saw the creature now in full light. The crimson eyes, alight with delight and hunger, but that smile, oh that horrible smile.

The lips were pulled back, exposing two rows of pearly fangs locked in a savage grin, the calm velvet exterior had left the demon, replaced by the demonic glee of a beast possessed.

Then the sword struck Skirek's head from his body. Gore and blood splashed over the ground, stained the black fox's fur, but he didn't seem to mind, instead he seemed to welcome it as if the blood comforted him, gave him pleasure.

Falis's remaining two guards ran at the fox, who greeted them with that same grin, enough to destroy a beast's sanity in a clawing stroke. The woodlanders had begun to run now, some having the presence of mind, but most were frozen shock still by the scene that must have been a nightmare.

It had to be.

As Jirik Valrik walked towards him, laughing all the while, Falis prayed to wake up. Or go to sleep.

-

It was the second hour of Eroket's scouting when the screams began.

They were gut and heart wrenching, terrible to hear. For a moment, he debated rushing back, to tell the Nameless Clan, for he knew they were coming from the direction in which Falis and his small contingent had traveled to-curse the idiot who said it was best to hide out in small groups away from the main force-but then he realized there were too many screams to just be coming from nine Nameless Clan beasts.

He couldn't leave innocent woodlanders to their fates; he just could not…even if it meant his death.

Eroket was running to the direction of the sound before he realized he had even made a decision. The rumble of thunder alluded to the coming rain and rain it did. Pour would have been a better term. The rain soaked the fur that was visible, plastering it to his skin in a most unpleasant fashion.

Eroket Nightblade couldn't have cared less. One paw locked on the hilt of his Schianova and he continued to run, even when the last scream died.

What greeted him was a scene from a nightmare. Corpses lay strewn over the forest floor, limbs, whole bodies, heads; the scene was carnage was gut-wrenching even to a hardened warrior and killer like Eroket. He turned away before the contents of his stomach could come up, but his breath came in heavy gasps now.

What…thing could do this to innocent beasts? What monstrosity could be responsible for this atrocity?

"Over here…" The voice was seductive and inviting, like oil sliding over ice.

Eroket's sword freed itself instantly and he ran. Whoever the perpetrator of this carnage was, he would die for it, he would suffer for-

The black fox stood over the mutilated corpse of Falis, bloodstained sword in one paw…and a mousebabe in the other, gripping him by his head, holding him off the ground. The child was crying out in pain and fear so that Eroket's heart wrenched. "Put him down, you bastard!"

"Oh, temper, temper, temper…" The voice turning mocking, the handsome features that seemed carved from ebon wood were mocking, the light smile that was matched in crimson eyes that were like twin pits of fresh spilt blood. "That's the wrong attitude, Eroket Nightblade…we wouldn't want my blade to slip."

Eroket paused, biting his lip lightly, sword held out and breath quickening. "Put him down…you're one of Kirathal's, right?"

"I am Jirik Valrik of Lord Kirathal's Ice Wolves, indeed."

"Then you've been sent after me. Some kid isn't involved in this! Put him down!"

"Why?" The mocking smile tore at Eroket. "Oh, poor little boy, you're sentimental! Maybe this brings…memories best left forgotten? Perhaps, perhaps; but this is only a child and maybe I've had my fill today…I could sate it with you and let it be over. But then again, how would this anger you…to make you a challenge worthy of me…or maybe my Lord," Jirik's eyes carried that same mocking smile.

"Well, I could…but then again, I have my orders to fulfill!" The face change, shifted, altered…becoming that of a demon's, all fangs and burning lust, "None shall survive! THAT IS THE LAW AND HIS ORDER!"

Eroket was rushing forward, a denying scream on his lips, but the bloodstained sword rose and fell upon the helpless child, tearing his life away and ending his screams forever.

"YOU BASTARD!" Eroket screamed, coming forward with a vicious barrage of attacks. He was not rational; rationality was forgotten in the mad rage, the desire to cut down this perversion, this evil in front of him.

Jirik's sword danced with Eroket's, meeting it strike for strike, the corpse was dropped, allowing him to wield his sword perfectly, countering every one of the mad ermine's moves.

"Is this all!" The demon laughed, fangs bared in that mocking grin, "How can a beast who lets his anger consume him instead of making it a part of him stand against me? If you cannot defeat me, how can you ever defeat the master! You're not even trying!" He was laughing madly, insanely, but Eroket didn't care.

Then Jirik's sword wove out of the nest of strikes, striking Eroket's shoulder. The ermine barely noticed, so consumed with bloodlust was he…but when one strike got through, it opened the way for others.

"I have you now!" Jirik's paw struck him in the head, dazing him for a moment and that moment was all that was required. Jirik threw his sword down and moved in close, raining blows upon the hapless ermine, stealing his fury and stealing his energy.

Finally the barrage ended as Jirik drove his knee into Eroket's stomach, driving the breath from the ermine.

As Eroket sobbed for breath, Jirik flung him to the ground roughly, beside the mouse's corpse.

"How sad…the hero can't save the helpless," Jirik laughed again and retrieved his sword, "Hate me, go on. Master that rage, make it part of you. I want to fight a beast like that…go on, Eroket Nightblade! CURSE ME! Hmmm, y'know, it is bad manners to kick a beast when he's down, but it's too! Much! Damn! FUN!" With every word, he delivered sharp kick to Eroket's side.

Eroket sobbed for breath, all energy stolen by this monster. He couldn't even save one child…he had let him die in front of him…

"You'll never have a chance unless you live to fight, live to kill, boy. That's the simple truth. I'll let you live and I want you to remember in your private nightmares that you could never stop me unless you become me."

The demon was gone into the forest, laughing again. And Eroket Nightblade, bruised, battered, beaten and soaked by rain could only stare in the dead eyes of a dead child, two words whispered over and over again from a denying mouth. "I'm sorry…I'm sorry…"

But there was nobeast to hear him.

Nobeast was there to absolve him.