It felt odd to see Calishan again, Jirik had to admit. It felt like he had been away so much longer; an eternity, really.

Well, all good things must come to an end, he reflected with a light sigh, throwing a smile at Harkon and Hallic, "Home again?"

Hallic gave a noncommittal grunt and Jirik almost applauded. The weasel's acting skills were certainly incredibly. Harkon was silent, staring ahead and doing his hardest not to look at Jirik. Jirik bit back the urge to laugh in his comrade's face; Harkon could take it badly and attack him, Jirik would be forced to kill him and one dead teammate a year seemed enough as far as what Kirath might tolerate.

Hallic's red eyes narrowed as if he could read Jirik's mind-or maybe he was just anticipating one of Jirik's customary 'outbursts.' Jirik smiled in return, feeling better than he had in years.

How he had hated Curian, that simpering, stupid sycophant. Always looking down his nose at Jirik, almost disdaining his methods, almost clinging to some outdated notions of nobility and honor. What did he think war was? Jirik couldn't believe some beasts couldn't grasp a concept as simple as 'kill.'

Jirik looked ahead to Calishan and grinned fiercely, "Lord Kirathal will want to hear what happened."

"You can tell him, Jirik. I'd rather meditate when we get back," Harkon replied calmly, folding his arms behind his back, "Hallic?"
Hallic shrugged and growled, "See Davrag, Arithia and Geras."

"Fair enough," Jirik smiled, signing subtly out of Harkon's vision: "Will they all survive""

The ghost of a smile hovered on Hallic's lips as he signed back: "Davrag shouldn't die thinking he ever had a chance."

Truly, Jirik liked the savage. He looked to Harkon, "It's not a total loss…Curian knew the risks."

Harkon gave him a look of fury in response and Jirik was momentarily taken aback. Oh, Jirik thought, he knows. Well, Harkon, perhaps I'll make sure you don't survive the coming battle. You were always just a slightly less irritation than Curian.

Harkon's growl interrupted his homicidal musings: "I'm heading off. You two can make your report."

Before Jirik could respond, Harkon stalked off. Jirik's paw itched to hurl a dagger between those shoulders, to hear the scream, see the blood, the shocked expression, the widened eyes before he tore them out, yes-

He caught a hold of himself quickly. Now was not the time or the place.

"Well, Hallic, it's been amusing, but now I believe we should go our separate ways. Give 'pitiful Davrag' my regards when you decide to carve him up."

The savage was smiling when Jirik left. Truly, a creature Jirik liked.

----

"Kirathal! Kirathal!"

Kirathal opened an eye and stood from his chair as Kallia drew closer to him, putting a paw on the hilt of her sword. Kirath waves a paw to her, "Nevermind, Kallia…it's Jirik."

"I know." She replied, narrowing her eyes.

Kirath smirked, "Yes, good point…either way, he deserves to be heard out. Admit him."

Kallia nodded once and exited the room. A moment later, Jirik walked in and bowed from the waist, "My lord."

"Jirik," Kirath replies, sitting back, paw on the hilt of his own blade, despite the fact Jirik was unarmed. "Tell me everything."

Jirik smiled thinly, "First we took a step, then another and-"

"Jirik, do not be flip, I am in no mood."

"Fine, fine, fine…One of the Nameless Clan heads is dead. Some…ferret, I think. I lost track."

"How many did you kill exactly?" Kirathal arched an eyebrow and Jirik shrugged as if embarrassed."

"Well, wasn't really keeping score, over twenty, under a hundred?"

Kirath rolled his eyes, "Whatever…Eroket and Jald?"

"Alive. Kardran was a traitor, he's joined them."

Kirath simply shrugged, "Kardran I could care less about. What of Harkon and Curian."

"Nightblade killed Curian."

Kirathal's eyes closed and his teeth ground together, fists clenching. For a moment, the beginnings of a snarl formed on Kirathal's lips before he allowed himself to relax, speaking tonelessly. "He died a true soldier. He will be remembered with honor."

"All due him, I'm sure. I left Nightblade alive. He and the others are coming here. As far as I know, alone. But I wouldn't doubt they could pick up some reinforcements…pretty much confirmed Kardran was one of those irritating Iridian otters."

Kirath nodded, unusually quiet and reserved for hearing about an upcoming battle. "Good…maybe they'll show up and give this battle some extra fun."

"Indeed…"

"What else is there Jirik?"

Jirik glanced to the door, Kirath sighed, "We're alone, and noone listens in."

Jirik grinned lightly, "Indeed...Father decided to check progress."

Kirath looked taken aback for a moment, "I see…did he make any intentions clear?"

"He just wished us the best of luck."

"Damned Valrik," Kirath growled and shook his head, "No offense."

Jirik grinned ferally, "Oh, none taken. I'd happily slit all my brothers open, and my loving parents too."

"Regardless, if they're involved, it's best to be careful…Valrik ambition could be a factor to hinder us."

"Don't even worry about that. Father promised not to interfere."

Kirath shrugged. "Whatever. As for other factors, did you meet Eroket yourself?"

Jirik grinned, "We had a moment."

"He wants to kill you, doesn't he?"
"I don't think that adequately sums it up. He'll come for me."

"You want first shot at him? What I said earlier still applies: If you kill him, he wasn't worth it."

"Oh, that's so generous of you, Lord! Yes, yes, of course!" Jirik's red eyes filled with lust for a moment.

Kirath watched him calmly, "Excited?"

"How often is one facing eternal war?"

Kirath laughed suddenly and stood. "You're quite right, Jirik! Start the preparations, get the others ready. Save some Damascus Flame, too, we'll probably need that."

Jirik bowed again, matching his master grin for grin. "How soon? How soon until the Corsairs arrive?"

"Days, if that. The same time it'd take for Iridians to arrive too, if what you said's correct." Kirath tapped a claw to his chin, "That Davrag creature's been improving himself too."

"Nightblade's a popular kid, noticing that?"

"Undoubtedly," Kirath smiled, eyes gleaming. "Jirik Valrik, loyal soldier..."

"Kirathal Frostclaw, great general!" Jirik answered, bloodlust transcending into fanaticism.

Kirath brought a paw up and clenched it into a fist. Curian was gone, yes, but his sacrifice would never be for naught in Kirathal Frostclaw's eyes. "This is war…it means we can go to war again! The last and greatest war, our final testament, the age of soldiers."

"Our kingdom of corpses!" Jirik began to laugh. To Kirathal's light surprise, so did he.

Their laughter, that of the Kirathal Frostclaw and Jirik Valrik, laughter of the Ice Wolves mingled together, rose out over the city and the sea, bringing the tidings of war, and its follower, the pitiless specter of death.