Brennan Stormcrow stared at the sky, watching the stars twinkle against the
fierce darkness of Mother Night. A new era has begun to eclipse the old as the
feathers of the Circle have begun to molt and be replaced. Glomdoring has risen
from the pathetic Gloriana, he thought, and the Basin will have a new realm to
fear. Brennan smirked - as he glanced back at his surroundings. Stoic ravenwood
trees still stood, however they were warped by the powers of the taint and they
grew more and more sentient, more feral by the passing of days. He too had been
changed; he knew it, just as Raven has changed to Mighty Crow. He placed his
hand over his heart, trying to hear the gentle ‘thump, thump' that a heart
normally made. Brennan did not hear such a sound. Brennan was living, yet his
heart did not beat - a cruel paradox of life.

‘A new power to exploit…' he muttered as he cast his august gaze upon his form.

The voices of the Raven Circle rang out against the silence of the forest,
their ramblings of their new power and Wise Raven. Brennan rolled his eyes,
Raven was gone - He has evolved by the Presence. Yes, he knew of the Presence.
How couldn't he? Brennan felt the shuddering embrace of the taint as it took
hold of his spirit while melded to the forest. And during all of this Crow rose
from the Nest. He smiled faintly as he forced his physical shell to shed and
disperse into the winds - moving towards the twisting mouths of his druidic
brethren.

"But what are we to do? I feel Raven - I can feel His powerful caress deep
within me! What will He say of our loss of the forest!" shouted Adarina
Softshadow. As Brennan manifested before the group, one by one each fell into
bow - gracing his presence. "Dear Adarina, Raven has changed. You said you feel
Him, do you not feel Him now? He is far more than what He once was. Crow - He is
called, He whispers it deep within my head." Adarina peered at him, unsure of
his words. The druidess closed her eyes and drifted into a trance-like state,
attuning herself to the Music of the Forest. Quickly, she snapped out of it as
she spoke unto the group, "I hear Him! Oh, Brennan! I hear Wise Ra--.." She
stumbled on her words as clutched her teeth. Brennan watched as her body
shuddered, becoming blanketed by tangible shadows and black feathers as she
began to speak again, "I hear Mighty Crow. I feel His power surge within. Oh,
Brennan - I hear him." He nodded. Crow is still strong even during His
transformation - he thought - Strong enough to even speak to one of His
children so they know of His power. Another druid stepped forward, a male, and
he said aloud, "I am unsure of this, Brennan. I have attuned myself to the
Music, but I do not trust in this Crow. I feel Raven, I know He is there."
Brennan gave him a glance as he said, "Well, we will need to teach you then."

The druid's name was Ivar Solute, a human from Delport who felt the call of
Raven when he was just a small child. Brennan knew instantly that Ivar would be
a problem sooner or later - however, how we would amend this… problem, would be
a matter of utmost difficultly. Ivar was well liked by most of the Circle - He
was appointed to the status of "Blackfeather Ravager" - the a title of high
honour for those who were of the combative sort. "Brennan, I know Raven is
about - I feel His essence still intact within me," Ivar said as he and Brennan
walked deeper within the forest. Brennan did not make effort to respond, he
simply walked with him - Ivar was muttering more and more about how Raven was
still about. It was then Brennan noticed what Ivar was wielding - the sacred
cudgel of Wise Raven. He stared at the ancient cudgel, formed out of ravenwood
and engraved with elder runes. A pivotal link to the old ways. Brennan knew
that if he was to ever make the Circle understand - he would have to show them
the power of Crow.

They continued, until Ivar grew tired of trying to speak to Brennan. With his
stubbornness - the druid shed his physical shell and flew to a grove within
Gloriana, or rather Glomdoring, which he called his own. Brennan's mind began
calculating. If he did not nip this in the bud, a faction of the Circle would
grow and flourish. Ivar was very charismatic and would be able to have others
believe that Fool Raven still flew within the boundaries of the forest. As
Brennan continued walking, he kept plotting on how to keep the Circle intact
and under the call of Crow. Suddenly, he stopped as the sensation of black
feathers caressed his mind and the haunting words of His new Master conveyed
His message.

"Brennan, My Son - My most faithful, it is you who is most connected to me, who
has truly felt My power. Those of the Circle have fallen astray, and We must fix
this. Destroy all connections to the Time of Weakness - the Time of Mercy.
Destroy it, and I shall finish do what I can." Brennan nodded, the words were
like revelation - and just as quickly as they came into his head were they gone
- was the feeling of Crow gone. Voices worked their way into his ears, the
collective chant of the Druids who were singing praises to Raven - led by Ivar.
Brennan narrowed his eyes into thin slits as he forced his will and shed his
form and moved to their location. The Druids were aligned in a circle, hands
formed into the sign of Raven and each were chanting a particular verse of an
old praise which they amply called "Praise to Raven." Ivar was standing in the
middle - his form overlapped with black, gleaming feathers. It was then Ivar
spoke, "Brennan, hail to Brennan! Look, we have come in supplication! We shall
raise our voices high to Raven!" Brennan rolled his eyes and then gave each
druid who stood before him a glance, what idiots he thought. Raven was no more
- Crow was all that was true. They needed to be shown this. It was then Brennan
lowered his head.

His thoughts became attuned to the Music of the Forest - the screeching of Crow
against the harsh blowing winds. Silken, oily feathers rippled against his
undead flesh, covering him in a miasma of darkness and power. Brennan glared at
the Druids as a whole - some having stopped their chanting, while others still
continuing. Smoothly, Brennan began to dance - his body twisting and turning to
an unheard tune, as he began to sing in a deep baritone voice. Ivar stepped up
to him, curious and unsure of what he was doing. With his hands, Brennan made a
new sign - one similar to Raven's, this a sign to Crow - and he continued to
dance and sign. The winds picked up as a lamented call echoed throughout the
grove which the Druids stood. Shadows began to loom overhead fiercely and
hungrily - while again the call pierced the normal sounds of the forest. It was
then that Crow appeared, in all His dark glory - the Spirit glared at the Druids
who stood before him. "Brennan," the Spirit spoke, "Brennan, show them My true
power. Silence the voices of those who cling to the weaker times, soil My
forest with their blood." Brennan nodded as his cudgel manifested into his
hands, and he began to cast spells to take control of the forest.

Spiders, crows, and pollen began to fill the grove - attacking the Druids who
were still singing. Ivar fought them off, using his knowledge of combat to
easily dispatch the powers pitted against him. The other druids, those who did
not instantly fall to the magic Brennan called - fell to their knees, calling
upon Crow to save them. It was soon that the only one who did not bow to Crow
was Ivar.

The two druids stood against each other, each pointing their respective cudgels
against each other. The knotty burls which launched from the cudgels cut into
their skin, with both Druids dodging some. Brennan innately summoned his
sickle, and quickly slashed it at Ivar - cursing him with lesions. Ivar
grimaced as he shed his physical form and moved his spirit to behind Brennan,
and brought his cudgel to his head. Brennan gasped slightly as he too dispersed
and moved behind Ivar, and then slashed with his sickle and pointed his cudgel -
the lesions and burls carving slowly into Ivar's body. Crow cawed - amused as He
let loose a mad cackle of screeches. Brennan's body became covered with shadows
as two massive wings erupted from his back; he jumped into the air and glided
down towards Ivar - his hand driving itself into his eye socket. Blood erupted
from Ivar's eye, as Brennan gripped onto the slimy oculus of his enemy and
pulled it out with angered desperation. Screaming in pain, Ivar fell onto the
ground as Brennan pointed his cudgel - the knotty burl deeper in his skin. The
druid's body was near lifeless.

Brennan moved towards his enemy, Ivar sniffling in pain and groaning. It was
then that Crow spoke, "Finish him - kill the weak one and I will amend
everything." Solemnly, Brennan nodded as he brought his sickle towards his head
for the finishing slash. "Brennan, please! Have mercy! I see Crow, I submit!
Please!" Brennan snickered wickedly as he said, "I have no mercy. Crow has no
mercy." With that, he slashed at Ivar as the curse erupted in more carvings
which bleed tremendously. Ivar screamed a scream which echoed throughout the
forest as his body finally died.

The smooth blackness overwhelmed Brennan's mind as he heard the gasps of Ivar
echo within his head. Crow appeared - His feathery bulk exuding a primal sense
of vigor, which instilled the druid with a newfound sense of power. "Brennan,
you have done well. You have removed the first true enemy of the new Circle,"
Crow spoke unto him. Brennan lowered his head - revering the words of the
Spirit as it went on. "The ties to Raven have been broken, and I shall favour
you for such actions." The druid brought his head up; curiously he stared at
Crow who let out a mad series of caws. Suddenly, the sacred cudgel of Wise
Raven materialized before him and Crow himself rose into the black aether. The
Great Spirit dove towards the cudgel, His body merging with the blackness to
form a shadowy substance which imbued itself with the artifact. Arcs of black
lightning shook around the cudgel as it began to rupture and bleed some unholy
ichor - Crow himself was feeding it with a new and far stronger power. As the
blackness faded within his mind, Brennan looked upon his Druidic brethren who
have been chanting a new praise, a dirge in the name of Crow. Brennan smiled at
this as he noticed within his hands he wielded a new cudgel, the black cudgel of
Mighty Crow.