"I've never seen anything like it in my life. They ripped through like a herd of buffalo and tore 'em apart like they were dolls. Them talons do a number on 'em. Ripped 'em to shreds like piranhas. I was lucky they didn't see me too. But our group's been on the run, on the move. The monsters will tear a man apart like stuffing."

Magnar the Madman skinned the fur from the rabbit he held with one of his daggers and slipped the meat into his mouth. "They been haunting the hillside for weeks now. You just hope they don't see you."

"Have you ever seen this group of 'men' before...in the past?" Fintan sat opposite Magnar on a rock facing the blazing firepit.

"I wouldn't call them men. They look more like, orcs, you know. The orcs you hear about in the folklore as a kid but come to life. But I know they isn't orcs, got too much human in 'em. Their faces look flayed and burned, but somehow, it's natural on them. They always sound angry the way they release that deep squeal when they are hunting. Sometimes you can hear them in the night—sound travels far in these lands, you know?"

Fintan studied Magnar. He could never be sure if an Ulthrak was just trying to scare or if they meant the truth.

"I've heard stories from my neighboring allies about some of their men going off hunting and never returning—just gone missing. Fortunately, none of mine have gone missing," said the Madman.

Fintan leaned in close now, his face inches from the flames, "You better speak truth. I know that there are dark beings lurking in the south, but if it is true that they march north as we speak, there is trouble for the entire continent. Including you, even out here in this wasteland you roam."

"I hear you loud and clear Magi, but that is not my concern. The north has its own problems with sorcery, and frankly, the Ulthraks have no business with sorcery, that's your job."

Fintan came across to Magnar and suddenly they were face to face, forehead against forehead.

"You hear me now, loud and clear. You bet your rotting arse if the north falls, you will have been long gone by that time. Your precious land stands between the north and the south and if you think for a second that the ruthless armies of Mestrane will just breeze by your people without a second thought you are horribly mistaken, Magnar."

The two of them returned to their seats in silence. It was just the two of them. The sun was just setting slowly, and the air was turning to a blue shade now.

"I have hosted you and your friends for three days. I consider that quite generous, so I'd consider getting a move on it soon, Magi." Magnar loved to spit that word as if it was poison.

"We aren't leaving until you return the favor. We fought against some banshee rival tribe—for what gain to us? You owe us."

"I am a fair man, Fintan. You know that. What do you want? I am giving you the chance to ask freely."

Magnar sloshed the rabbit meat between his teeth, the juices squirted noisily in his mouth. His straight hair bobbed side to side as he sunk his teeth in. Just like a sloth, though Fintan.

"Give me your men. All of them. Including you."

Magnar spit the meat from his mouth and stood suddenly. His face turned from soft to visible anger. He clenched his jaw, forgetting about the rabbit he had been devouring.

"You think that's funny Magi? Do you think you can work some mystical curse on me? I don't fall for the mind tricks, Magi. An Ulthraki works for no one."

"It's better than being dead."

Magnar raised his fist, lunged but stood down before landing an actual punch. Fintan hadn't flinched but instead he returned a cold glare at the Madman. Magnar stood off now but this time he spit at the ground.

"You won't survive here, it's too dangerous. I've seen things, Magnar. I have seen the army brewing in the south and those vicious beings that are marauding the lands right now—that's not even a portion of the army that is too come. I am helping you as much as myself by offering our alliance. We can gather your allies and start the beginnings of an army."

"So then, what? You want me to tip toe back north with you and that cocky sack of nothing friend of yours? And that boy who is sleeping around with one of our women? You're pathetic."

Fintan withdrew the stone of Ertorin from his cloak and held it out. Its brightness illuminated the dark air. Magnar froze and his eyes became set on the intense blue. Images began forming in the stone. Magnar the Madman watched, and awe set in on his face, "It is magnificent." He could not take his eyes away.

Magnar's gaze began to change to horror as he saw the images change from beauty into destruction. Figures danced in the light of the stone, as Ulthraki waved their axes wildly, to no avail, as they were hacked down by new images of fearful looking creatures. It was Magnar's kin being killed, and brutally by the Deranged Men of Mestrane.

Fintan retracted the stone and placed it back in its concealed position inside his cloak. "The land of Modena is in no position to defend itself right now, not after the war. It is a land divided and with weak leadership. No army alone could withstand what is to come, unless we form an army—together. That starts with you and your men. Whatever alliances you have, you must call upon. Together we can journey north and build an army. It is the only way, Magnar."

Magnar sat silent a while and soaked it in. "I am my own man, and only I decided what is best for my people, is that clear?!"

"Yes, Magnar, I understand. But in this instance, our well-beings are aligned."

"I will accept, but only because it is my own decision. You did not sway me, I swayed myself. You have my word, magi."

"Gather your people and your allies. We leave as soon as we can."

Magnar grumbled and threw the rest of the rabbit to the ground. He walked off towards base camp. Fintan knew it was a victory, but it would have to withstand the test of time to see if he and his men remained loyal to the cause. The Ulthrakis had never formed an alliance with a people other than themselves, and it would be a long road to building trust, Fintan knew. Yet, it was a start.