The staff comes down and hits with a crack of thunder, knocking Daryl out in one blow. It's not sure if the ceremonial staff survived that strike intact. The Storm Lords, including Dean, are all stunned at this display of skill. This was more then expected. Finally Dean manages to speak. "By the Choirs! I expected you to give him a few bruises, but..." He runs out of words and begins applauding madly. The tribe follows, as does Angelo. "I think you win, Selene." Dean says.<br/><br/>When Daryl awakens, the first thing he sees is Selene. He leaps to his feet, snarling in fury...only for Dean to grab him by the shoulder. "Boy. Now you see your weakness?" Daryl glares at Dean, but he'll have none of that. "You can fight with your fists, but what of weapons? Storm Lords, draw!" Everyone present draws their chosen weapon-even Angelo gets in on it. "What will you do against an opponent with a sword, an axe? Or this?" Dean says, as he draws a Desert Eagle from behind him. "If you wish to join us, select a weapon and a firearm. Become competent with them, then return to us." He gave Daryl a firm shove, and the young werewolf stormed off, furious.<br/><br/>"You've given me quite the show. Now, about your visit..." Angelo sighed. "Well...we believe one of your Lords has wound up...dead." Dean went from smiles to deathly serious. "What? How? Who?" He said, his voice now a low, gruff tone.<br/><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">GM Note</div><div class="spoiler_body">Your turn, guys! I don't want Angelo monopolizing the talky bits.</div></div>