Plenty of Icewalkers saw the large ice weasel as it traveled through the camp.  Everybody pretty much already knew who it was, so no one panicked on account of seeing it.  Hell, the markings on it – marring the appearance of the usual weasel, who had no such markings – they all knew what they were, and thus the true identity of the animal running about.  Inside the tent Yifa had entered, she would find her father.  Yurgen Kanako, Bull of the North, leader and uniter of the Icewalker tribes.  The woman next to him was Arianna, another Solar, this one a Twilight Caste.  She and Yifa’s father had joined up together, allowing for the tribe of determined ‘barbarians’ to better resist the predations of the Scarlet Empress’ Realm.  Yurgen managed to re-balance himself under Yifa’s surprise attack – which had happened many a time before – and looked back.  “Good morning to you, too.”  He didn’t say anything, but from how he looked, he’d gotten about as much sleep as he usually did.  Enough.  “Actually, yes, we were talking about something, and it involves you.  You might want to come around to the table to actually look on this map…”  Once she was in place, she would note the map on the table, as well as small figures that represented themselves, and black-colored ones that represented the Realm’s Legions.<br/><br/>“So far, we’ve been doing very well against the Realm.  Between their thinking of us as simple barbarians, and the forces we’ve been able to field, our history with them has been a very long chain of successes.”  He noted.  “But the Realm isn’t going to keep making the same mistakes forever.  Eventually, if they really think of us as a threat, they’ll bring out the big forces for us to tangle with.  Warstriders, Essence-powered artillery, real magitech.  And we don’t have any way of fighting against foes like that.  Not yet.  That’s where you come in.”  He indicated the map.  “We are here,” in the middle of the figurines.  “To the west of us is Snowguard, Whitewall, and Gethamane.  Just a stone’s throw further from there is the Black Crag Mountains.  Samea’s been going over the books I have, and she thinks that trying to forge an alliance with either city-state – Whitewall especially – might be worth a shot.  We’re on our home ground, and we fight like ten men each, especially the three of us, but sooner or later we might need help.  And any of these cities will be a good choice.  Even if we can’t defend the city, we can at least use the nearby mountains to evade and confuse the Realm and lure them into a position for ambush.”<br/><br/>He looked over to Yifa.  “I know it’s not your favorite thing in the world, I know you love hitting things a lot more than talking to them, but you’re the one I trust the most.  We need an alliance or at least an agreement between us that is beneficial to us.  Otherwise, sooner or later, the Realm is just going to come in and use superior numbers to overwhelm us.”  Yurgen knew that his daughter would be gone for weeks, maybe months, on this particular quest.  But it was important, so very, very important.<br/><br/>___________________________________________________________________________________<br/><br/>Elsewhere, an hours’ journey from the camp of Icewalkers, a single figure staggered on through the cold region of the North.  “Must…keep…going…”  The figure had the markings of a Terrestrial Exalt, Water Aspect.  This was Merame Teresu, Terrestrial of Lookshy.  Why, you ask, would Lookshy have sent one of its prized Dragon-Blood warriors to the North?  Then you should ask yourself why it had sent five.  The mission was simple, but it was also secret, for Merame was part of the Lookshyan Special Operations Units, whose missions frequently were.  However, Merame did know that this mission was of vital importance to the people of her city, that the outcome of it – presuming it was a good one – would help to defend them against the attacks of the Realm.  While they, like the Icewalkers, had been largely successful in their campaigns against them, they knew full well that eventually, the Realm would simply send far too many troops for them to resist.  And then what?  Become a tributary of those soft-bodied Dynasts?  Hell no!  Not if they had a choice about it.  Merame and a handful of other Lookshyan Special Ops Legionnaires had been sent to the North on two important missions.  One was already underway – they had left behind two of the five Terrestrials sent in Cherak, where the details of their mission were known only to them.<br/><br/>Herself and the other two, however, still had far to go.  Icewalker territory was dangerous, they had learned, but it was the quickest way across the land to get where they needed to go.  So this way they had come.  Unfortunately, things were not going so well for the mission.  One of them – the newest – had been dragged off by animals in the night, and an errant attack by a small contingent of Wyld Hunt, though repelled, later caused the death of her other companion.  “Damn Dynasts,” she cursed them as she leaned on her dire lance, moving slowly.  She was going to die out here, she knew it.  But she had to go on anyway.  It was her duty.<br/><br/>Little did she know just what was going to transpire to save her life…<br/>