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[druid_belasius]

Wherever the Goddess is, there is the grove called Nemet. Tonight, when the moon is just past full and the stars gleam in patterns that Belasius has begun to recognize, this corner of the Forbidden Forest is Nemet. Belasius kneels, his white robes dragging in the snow. He has set a bowl of sweet water and a burner of fresh incense at his left and

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[ulfin_kingsman]

He resists the draw for as long as he can, knowing what it means. But there's only so long a normal man can hold out against magic.

And so, fear in his eyes and feet dragging, he comes.

[blue_eyed_lord]

The cold and the snow are refreshingly quiet compared to the constant bustle of the bar, and the forest is a wonderful place to think, and plan, and work.

The Rider enjoys this season like he does no other, even though he is currently stripped of his power. The approaching winter would be the perfect time to regain that power. It is tradition, after all.

(The time of darkness and cold, when the Dark is at the height of its powerHe already has a plan. One he believes will not be expected, and not be found out until too late. In times past the Dark had occasionally used objects in which to hold its power, and the Rider does not see why he cannot use an object to gather power, as well

[druid_belasius]

Belasius stands, slowly. Whether it is from the effort of standing, after so long kneeling on the cold snow, or for some other reason, his breath quickens. Belasius runs his eyes up and down Ulfin's thin form, just visible in the moonlight.

Belasius could grab Ulfin now, but there is no hurry. He has been waiting for this moment for a long time, after all; he might as well savour it.

"Do you know why you are here?" Belasius asks softly, pinning Ulfin with his gaze. The curved knife rests lightly in his hand.

[ulfin_kingsman]

He nods, slowly, mustering what defiance he can. He will not call this man 'lord'.

"Y-yes."

Oh, my lady, if you can, help me now.