Smoke curled from the Icefang Clan's central firepit, its glow casting long shadows across the stone huts as night settled over the tundra. Aelar Frostveil sat cross-legged on a fur mat, his dark blue frostweave armor smudged with soot from the day's ambush. His silver-white ponytail rested against his back, blue eyes flickering with the flames' reflection. Kaelith sprawled beside him, silver-streaked fur warm against Aelar's leg, glacial eyes half-open but alert. The Icefang alliance was tentative, but the Order's attack had forged a fragile bond—one Aelar intended to strengthen.
Elara sat next to him, her pale blue tunic dusted with snow, sipping from a wooden cup. "That ambush was too precise," she said, voice low. "They knew our route."
Aelar nodded, staring into the fire. "Someone's talking. We need to find out who."
Torin approached, his frost-forged armor clanking, spear in hand. Beside him lumbered his beast companion—a stocky Elder-tier Frost Boar named Gruk, its gray hide bristling with icy spines, small black eyes glinting as it snorted. "My men are clean," Torin said, sitting heavily. "I'd stake my life on it. Icefangs, though? Different story."
Aelar glanced at Gorrim, the Icefang chieftain, who stood across the fire sharpening his axe. "Could be," Aelar said. "But Gorrim fought with us. He's not the leak."
Elara frowned. "Then who? One of his warriors?"
"Maybe," Aelar replied. "Or someone back home. We'll root them out."
Gorrim looked up, green eyes narrowing. "You whispering about my folk, Frostborn?"
Aelar met his gaze. "Just wondering how the Order found us so fast. You've got ideas?"
Gorrim grunted, setting his axe down. "Could be Ragna. Young hothead—always griping about Frostveil. Wouldn't put it past him to sell us out." He whistled, and a lean Frost Hound padded over—an Elder-tier beast with sleek white fur and sharp amber eyes. "Varg'll sniff him out if he's skulking."
Aelar nodded. "Do it. We can't move forward with a traitor in the ranks."
The Spy Unmasked
The next morning, Gorrim led Aelar, Elara, and Torin through the village, Varg trotting ahead. The Frost Hound's nose twitched as it weaved between huts, finally stopping at a small tent. Gorrim ripped the flap open, revealing Ragna—a wiry Icefang with tangled red hair and a pinched face, clutching a veiled sigil pendant.
"Caught you," Gorrim growled, hauling him out by the collar. Varg snarled, teeth bared.
Aelar stepped forward. "Why, Ragna?"
Ragna spat, glaring. "Frostveil crushed us years ago—took our pride. The Order promised revenge."
Elara's voice sharpened. "And you'd doom your own clan for it?"
"They'd have spared us!" Ragna snapped. "You're the doom, prince."
Torin pressed his spear tip to Ragna's chest. "Talk. What'd you tell them?"
Ragna sneered. "Your route, your numbers. They're coming again—bigger this time."
Gorrim shook him. "You fool. We're stronger with Frostveil than against it."
Aelar raised a hand. "Enough. Lock him up, Gorrim. We'll deal with the Order when they show."
Gorrim nodded, dragging Ragna off, Varg snapping at his heels. Torin lowered his spear, Gruk grunting beside him. "Told you—Icefangs are trouble."
"Not all of them," Aelar said. "Gorrim's solid. We've got a fight coming—let's prep."
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By midday, Aelar and Gorrim organized defenses—Icefang warriors paired with Frostveil guards, Torin barking orders. Kaelith and Varg patrolled the perimeter, while Gruk rooted near Torin, spines rattling. A piercing screech split the sky—an Elder-tier Frost Eagle swooped down, its massive wings, white with silver tips, beating the air. Its golden eyes glowed, talons sharp as blades, beak glinting with frost.
"Sylvara, stats!" Aelar thought, drawing his sword.
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Target: Frost Eagle (Elder)
Race: Magical Beast
Beast Tier: Elder (Level 6)
Stats:
Strength: 50
Agility: 60
Intelligence: 15
Mana: 40
Skills:
Frost Dive (Level 3): High-speed aerial strike with chilling force.
Ice Talons (Level 2): Rending slashes that freeze.
Wind Gust (Level 2): Wingbeats create disorienting winds.
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"Kaelith, stun it! Elara, shield!" Aelar shouted. Kaelith's Frost Howl roared upward, the eagle faltering mid-flight, wings trembling. Elara raised a frost barrier as it dove with Frost Dive, talons slamming into the ice, cracks splintering outward. Aelar snapped Glacial Chains—twelve tendrils lashing up, six coiling its wings, six binding its legs, yanking it to the snow with a crash.
The eagle screeched, Wind Gust whipping snow into a blinding flurry. Gorrim charged, axe swinging, but its Ice Talons raked his arm, frost spreading—he cursed, falling back. Torin thrust his spear, Gruk ramming the beast's side, spines piercing feathers. Aelar darted in, sword slashing its neck—blood sprayed, the eagle thrashing as Varg leaped, jaws tearing at its wing.
"Finish it!" Aelar yelled, chains tightening. Gorrim roared back in, axe cleaving its head clean off. The beast slumped, a silver core rolling free. Aelar claimed it, mana tingling.
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Host: Aelar Frostveil
Ascension Tier: Grandmaster (Level 2)
Stats:
Strength: 72
Agility: 82
Intelligence: 60
Mana: 115
Skills: Frostborn Legacy (Innate, Level 6) Glacial Chains (Level 9) Frost Bite (Level 2) Frost Shroud (Level 5) Mana Manipulation (Level 9) Ice Crafting (Level 7) Swordsmanship (Level 8) Beast Taming (Level 4)
Companion: Kaelith
Stats: Strength 65, Agility 55, Intelligence 22, Mana 45
Skills: Frost Howl (Level 5), Blizzard Charge (Level 5), Ice Armor (Level 4)
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Aelar sheathed his sword. "Good teamwork," he said, nodding to Gorrim.
Gorrim wiped blood from his axe, grinning. "Aye, Frostborn. You're not half bad."
Bonds and Warnings
That night, Aelar sat by the fire with Elara, Torin, and Gorrim, their beasts resting nearby. Elara patched Gorrim's arm with frost magic. "You're reckless," she teased.
"Says the girl fighting eagles," Gorrim shot back, chuckling.
Torin tossed Gruk a bone. "Order's next wave'll be worse. Ragna said 'bigger.'"
Aelar nodded. "We'll be ready. Gorrim, your hounds—can they scout?"
"Varg can," Gorrim said. "I'll send him out. You keep that wolf of yours sharp."
"Kaelith's always sharp," Aelar replied, scratching the wolf's ears. "Elara, Torin—thoughts on the spy?"
Elara frowned. "Ragna might not be alone. We should check our own ranks."
Torin grunted. "Agreed. I'll grill the guards tomorrow."
Aelar stared into the flames. "This alliance is our first step. We hold it, we hold Eryndral."
Gorrim raised his cup. "To not dying yet."
They clinked, a quiet resolve settling over them.