{Music Recommendation: Rain of Hell (Let it Pour) ~ American Satan}
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THE KRIEGERS, HALF-BLOOD SOLDIERS of The Apex arrive the Darkstone Fortress within the last hour till midnight. They had just recently concluded their massacre at Camp Green, and as all forty of them traipse into the grounds of the mountain stronghold, the crimson blood of the murdered SilverFang werewolves gleams up at the moon from the black of their spandex suits.
A few of them bear cuts and bruises that allude to the chaos of night. This was the night before Casselba had come to know of the attack on SilverFang. Spots on their dark outfit show red, healing flesh and the Lycra cloths appear doused in blood. It is. Not the blood of the Kriegers though. At least, not much of it. The forty soldiers hurry on, moving swiftly in the moonlit night towards the heavy stone doors and into the embrace of their dark, feline master.
There had been no casualties on their side.
