Wartime

~Cerulea Galva~

"Well, things seem to have gotten interesting." He said, looking at the others. "Looks like we're gonna have to work even harder than we thought."
Jemma nodded, then shrugged.
Lea crossed her arms and glanced around the Camp. "Yeah. Um, Thomas, since we'll be staying here a while, can you help me find a room?"

~Erin Thorne~

"Now, we must prepare for what he will do next. Our Armory has.....well, just about everything. Potions, mana-filled gems, runestones, weapons that even I don't know where they're from or what they do, and more. It's open to you. Take what you think you might need."
"You have our thanks," I told her, standing. "Where's the Armory?"

~Elenwen Grove~

I didn't need Luke telling me Erin and Cal would fight Círdan alone, I knew they would. They didn't like innocent blood on their hands if it was preventable. But that meant the only backup they'd have against a very nearly omnipotent druid would be each other. And somehow I didn't think that would save them.
I cast the wands.
Saille, Fearn, Ura, Ngetal, Idho.
Willow, alder, heather, reed... and yew.
Willow represented femininity, and therefore meant Erin. Alder was a warrior, therefore Cal. Heather meant surprises, Reed fear. And yew meant death.
The positions of the wands also dictated the fortune. Reed and Heather were crossed, meaning the surprise would be terrifying. Yew lay fell between Willow and Alder, telling me starkly that one of the Thornes would die in the confrontation.

~Erin~

It was not long before we found something in the Armory.
Callum picked up the blade from where it lay on a center table. It was beautifully engraved with Celtic knotwork and Futhorc runes. "Where did you get this?"
Kaylara shrugged. "We picked it up outside the Vatican during an... incident with the Church. We don't know where it came from."
I grinned, taking the sword from my brother. "That, we can tell you. This is Dealga, sword of Tíen Sailleach. It's sygalder to leave wounds that never heal, and even the slightest cut from its blade will cause immense pain." Cal handed me a belt with Dealga's scabbard and a small knife attached. "Caora," he told them. "Dealga's antithesis. Heals the wounds and stops the pain."
Ragnar's brow was raised. "Like the Skofnung sword and stone?"
Cal and I exchanged a glance. "Yes, just nastier. A lot nastier. Tíen didn't like people bothering her."

~Nina Maldova~

Nina and her team had been on their way back to the main European Camp when the van suddenly lurched to a halt, the brakes screaming. Nina stood and powerwalked down to the cab where Nathan was driving.
The Senior Huntsman, usually so composed, had never shown fear to her before. Now his knuckles were pale white on the wheel as he stared through the windshield.
Nina followed his gaze and felt her stomach plummet to her shoes.
"Oh," she whispered. "Oh God."

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