The sound of snow falling to the ground when true night took the landscape laid the perfect backdrop to a bright moon lighting a circle of warriors. The warriors nearest her shifted to let her pass as Rorin stepped into the circle and made her way towards the center. The Anai'na ritual would determine the outcome of the battle ahead and would give the ancestors room to speak. Other than the snowfall and her footsteps, there was not a sound, not an unnecessary movement. Nothing was amiss as Rorin stopped in the center, nothing in the way of the moonlight shining on her skin.

On the edge of the circle opposite Rorin, her second, Thur stood waiting for her - war paint dark and fearsome against her neck. Two handprints looked like some dark creature had tried to strangle her, sending a message that her survival was a threat to her enemies. A gust of wind tested Rorin's composure as it sent chilly, spiky snow into her skin giving a match to how her feet felt being stabbed by the ground. As Thur moved to the center to stand in front of Rorin, Gat started the humming from the sidelines that would lead all the warriors into the guttural accompaniment in the Anai'na.

Thur laid a sword at the shenta's feet and backed away before pulling out a sword of her own. The humming from her warriors changed into a chant when Rorin picked up the sword and the dance began. Thur lunged forward with her dominate hand and Rorin deflected it easily.

The chanting of the warriors was low and sure.

Thur continued on the offensive, getting parried and dodged at every turn - not allowing Rorin even a breath between attacks. After a strong parry, Rorin twisted her sword out of the pary and upwards in a counter strike. Thur dodged to the right and went on the defensive as Rorin threw strike after strike.

"Woka sa Anai'na. Wosha ka shenta sa Anai'na," the warrior's feet stomped against the ground while the chanting grew in volume and rhythm.

Sweat had already started falling down Rorin's face and her arm tingled with each strike of metal. Thur twisted so that Rorin's sword slid off to her left leaving an opening for a forward strike, but Rorin was quick enough to block the blow holding her sword vertically and bracing it with her other palm on the blunt side. Rorin threw off Thur's sword and shoved her own body forward to land the final blow with an upward stroke of the sword across Thur's upper chest and neck.

The warriors grew silent looking for the outcome of the battle.

Rorin held the blow before it made contact and both she and Thur drew back. They had fought this fight multiple times in this exact series of attacks. It was a test of the leaders both mentally and physically. The Anai'na fight was performed flawlessly, the ancestor's intentions were clear in front of the council and all the warriors - the upcoming battle was blessed.

Still somewhat breathless, Thur called out to the warriors, "I yield, Shenta. Your power shows as strong as ever and the ancestors send their blessings. Give us your strength so we will be victorious."

Gat approached from the edge of ring and reached inside her furs to produce a small, metal contraption. It was a curved bowl, with a spike protruding from the inside. The disc was as large as two fingers in any direction with the only break in the symmetry being a thin metal protrusion attached to one side that was bent into a U-shape. Inside of the bowl, Gat packed a putty-like substance that was white and blue - it was not shiny like water, but it sparkled. To the inku, this was the most precious material they owned, dracailich. Rorin opened her mouth and Gat inserted the bowl upside-down in the Shenta's mouth, the small bend fitting over her teeth and the spike threatening her tongue. Rorin stabbed the needle into her tongue and magic mixed with her blood immediately filled her mouth.

She had done this a dozen times, but the rush of magic still threatened to overwhelm Rorin. It felt like fire and ice together running through her veins. Her eyes felt huge in their holes like they could burst and the magic sang to her of the potential. The magic wanted her to grow to twice her size and tower over everyone; it wanted her to turn into a bird and shoot fire from her beak; it wanted her to become invisible like the ancestors and lose her skin and bones to be just a spirit of spite and light. If Rorin did not use this magic quickly she feared that she would burn from the inside out and nothing would be left of her.

Rorin approached Thur first and in what would normally seem like a kiss, offered her blood and magic. Thur drank the offering and returned to the front of her unit. Gat was the only other general here, the others would not have made it into position in time if they had participated. Once Gat drank the blood and returned to her unit, Rorin walked the perimeter of the warriors while stomping through the snow. She looked to all the faces in front of her. Once she had walked the entire circle she returned to the middle and pooled the magic she could feel in herself and shoved it into her people, her sisters here and imagined them all warm. This was the great weapon of the inku people, what no one else could manage, for no one else had dracailich or the knowledge to control the power without killing themselves and others. The inku could hunt and fight in winter, across snow or ice, in the coldest of places. Their skin, truly white as the moon, blended easily into the snow and in their approach, only the chosen face markings and their red eyes would be seen.

The ritual complete, Rorin reached into the earth and pulled out any magic she felt there and willed clouds to cover the moon. Slowly clouds began to block out the moon and Rorin was able to focus back on her warriors. She took the now empty metal piece out of her mouth and handed it to Gat, taking a moment before addressing her tribe, "We will take the village. Kill until they have no fight left in them and we will feast over their bleeding bodies!"

Rorin gathered her clothes and joined her warriors as they all undressed and bundled their clothes in the trees. Swords in hand and bodies in positions across the forest, they awaited their shenta's orders warm and waiting. The moon was fully hidden now behind clouds and Rorin could see across the open area of the village that Inga's and Kata's teams had lit the first fires. She signaled to the generals to move forward from their positions quickly and she sent a silent prayer that the ancestors would also bless their timing so the humans would not think of looking in the direction. This is how the inku survived in the winter. If a raid were to fail, they would not have enough food to make it back to their winter homes. The risk to her people should they fail was too high and yet, it was all they knew.

The human village was a simple layout. Twelve homes, all harboring multiple people inside. From what the inku knew from previous raids, there were up to two families living in each house.  The homes were all made of felled trees with wooden doors. Surrounding the homes was a tall, wood fence with only a single gate. The gate was on the moon's side, towards the distraction teams. Inside of the fence was a raised platform that went up and down the fence like a snake and at night there would be a few guards on one of those platforms on the gate-side.

Inga and Kata's teams played their part excellently with torches aflame, running back and forth in front of each other to spook the humans and not give them a solid target to shoot at. It should also disguise their numbers from the guards. The team was also equipped with bows and when the humans are alerted, should start firing arrows. Should was a key word between Rorin's expectation of Inga and reality and that "should" did not always represent a fine line. 

The plan was already in motion and Rorin needed to focus on the erihaleir side teams. They were approaching quickly and under the cloud cover, no human noticed them as they slipped in beside the village wall. The humans could be heard shouting on the other side of the wall, they must have finally been alerted to the torches. If someone were a particularly good listener they could even hear arrows starting to thud into the wall. A breath of relief at the youngest general following the orders, Inga only hoped it would keep up.

On the erihaleir side, two warriors spaced across where they had scouted the elevated platforms were each held a large rope with a knot at the end. Shenta nodded at them, though she needn't - they were already in motion, stepping back to start swinging the rope. They released their ropes and one of the knots fell flat on the ground while the other latched onto the wall's height. Everyone stood silent waiting for an alert, nothing. The one who missed stepped back to try again while a warrior with a pack in the successful team started to climb the rope. Once she reached the top she released her bundle over the side which released a ladder for the rest.

Gat's whole team made it up the ladder, had started creeping through the camp, and Thur's team made it halfway up before any alarm was raised about Inku invading on the opposite side to the gate. From a bird's eye view it was the best kind of fight - an unfair one.

Groggy humans had been pulled out of their sleep, most had grabbed some form of weapon and headed in the direction of the front gate. This made easy pickings for the inku as they crept silently through the village killing any they couldn't tie up or knock out. By the time the alarm sounded that there were enemies on the human's backside, the majority of warriors left were those on the wall by the gate. A difficult fight if not for the moon team shooting arrows over the tall fence forcing the humans to either fire back at the enemies outside or on the ground only to risk the other Inku team attacking or to give up the high ground and face the ground team.

Rorin studied the situation and her only concern was the lives of her people, the inku stood their ground as the humans scrambled to understand their situation. She called to her women to halt and to the humans in the human tongue, "Surrender!" One human leapt off the side of the wall, but the others kept their fighting stance. A few glanced towards a shorter man and then back to the inku, perhaps a leader of some sort. This was confirmed when the short man raised his hand and commanded his men. Rorin didn't understand the words, but the intention was clear as all the humans in varying levels of swiftness lay their weapons on the ground.

She gave the command for the warriors to approach and start tying up the men. Looking around, there didn't seem to be any Inku bodies on the ground waiting for a sister to find them. Rorin could only hope that no one was lost to these unfortunate creatures. They all waited, weapons drawn, until the last of the humans was bound. Only then did Rorin feel comfortable to give the command to lift the gate and have the warriors disperse through the camp to gather the men in a single group outside.

She spared a glance at the short man who had convinced the others to lay down their weapons and memorized him, his face. He would stand to her shoulders and had muscular arms with a medium frame. His long, brown curls tied at the base of his neck. His face, strong jaw and eyes, set in fury both. It was as if he could kill Rorin by burning through her with his gaze. She looked away and took note to talk to or kill that man as soon as possible.

Within the hour the damage had been assessed and the humans were split into two groups. On one side of the center of the village the men who were left stood in a line, all their hands tied behind their backs, the other side held women and children.

Rorin turned to Thur, "Anything of note with the humans?"

"No Shenta."

"Anyone claiming to lead these people?"

"Yes." The general waved towards a beefy looking, older gentleman. That was not who Rorin was expecting. She expected to see the short man with fiery eyes. Though this one did look pretty angry.

Rorin made a beeline towards the leader with powerful steps. He turned towards her and flinched, good. This man may be stupid, but he wasn't blind.

"You speak Mountain?"

"I know what you are and you're not going to get away with this."

Ignoring that jab, Rorin could speak in and understand Mountain, if for nothing else he may prove useful as a translator. She was old and there was never time to learn a third language, or fourth.

"You know us. Then you know what will happen. Will you cooperate?"

"Fuck no. You can suck my -" The older man finished his sentence with a punch to the face and blood in his mouth.

"You can live. We stay two months and then go."
The punch must have made the realization of the man's position a reality because he held the anger in until his face turned hot iron red. When he seemed to not hold it any longer he yelled, "Fuck you."

Quick as a fox into its den, Thur who had been standing behind the man this whole time, wrapped a thin leather cord around his neck and pulled him to the ground. Thur dragged him across the snowy mud to the coral of men as he struggled to breath and scrambled helplessly at the cord around his neck. Rorin spoke to the men in Mountain hoping some of them understood, "This man claims to speak for you. He says none of you will cooperate. We are here and have come into your town with the intent to not kill more. We stay two months. This man says you would rather die. Is this true?"

Silence and then mumbling amongst themselves. Did no one else speak Mountain? If not, they might as well end the journey now. Rorin's human language was sub-par at best. Someone in the crowd of twenty asked, "Will you truly let us live?" Rorin's eyes locked on to the man from earlier with the curly hair and she walked towards him until they were face-to-face. "Yes. Any who will cooperate." Some human language was expressed by the curly-haired man and one by one fifteen out of the twenty men step forward. "We will cooperate." That was hardly enough for all the warriors Rorin had brought. They need all twenty of them. "Are you certain more of you will not cooperate?" The translator relayed that to the men and a few more stepped forward. Good enough. With a fluid motion Rorin walks back to the now purple man on the ground, takes the dagger from her side, and slices the man's throat, being careful not to cut Thur's leather cord. Taking that as a sign, warriors who were behind the row of men stepped forward and stabbed those who refused to cooperate. You can smell as at least one human pisses themselves, a lot of the faces are afraid, a lot of them angry. But eighteen men would be enough, had to be enough for her forty plus warriors.

Rorin leaves Thur and her team to deal with the men. Each team has their duties after the raid and Thur's team always found the men's quarters and set them up. Kata approached.

"Anything of note?" Rorin asks. "One warrior perished, three are injured." A fairly successful raid then, though Rorin would have preferred all her warriors survive every time.

"How did they die?"

"There was a good shot by the gate, he managed to hit several warriors and killed Una from Kata's team. One of the injuries also comes from Gat's team. Once they infiltrated, one of the men caught her off guard while coming out of a home. Once the threat was known, he was taken down easily, but not before he got a good shot in."

"We will need a pyre for the dead after the initial set-up is done." Rorin looked to the moon, "It is a good night, hopefully we will be blessed with another moon like this tomorrow. Do our soldier first with honor. We will save their dead for the forest."

The rest of the night was spent creating accommodations in the town, sorting the women, finding the lauders, tying up the men. When dawn began to show itself the immediate arrangements had been completed. Like the phase of the moon, this was the pattern the warriors knew best.

Rorin exited the house of the man she had killed and headed towards the men's barn. Kata matched her steps along with Inga and Gat. Gat had blood on her hands, clothes, face. Rorin had never seen her so covered in enemy blood before. She took the woman's hand and licked blood off the back of it while they walked in silence. To the humans it may look as if Gat was unmoved, but a little breath in and a change in posture gave her away.

The three women joined Thur and three additional soldiers outside the barn. Two soldiers stood watch at the door while the other five looked to Rorin. She addressed Gat first, "Gat, the success of tonight was in large part to your team's silent infiltration in darkness and with swift feet. I hear your team had some difficulty upon entry, but were successful in your goals."

To left lead, "Inga, your team's execution of the distraction and true aim tonight gave us the upper hand so we could demand a surrender. I was pleased with your team's initial aim and the patience shown. You and Kata may choose your prizes first. Gat, you and your soldier second. Thur, third. I grant one additional pick to the soldier who got the rope thrown correctly on the first try. Gat, I do believe that warrior was on your team." The leads looked to their shenta expectantly. "I will abstain from choosing a boon from inside."

With that, Rorin leaves the four women to proceed inside the quarters and headed back towards her chosen shelter. Two guards stand outside, "Sablryn, get me the man who spoke Mountain."