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Dust and soot swirled around in a dance through the wastes. The wind blew harder and faster as shadows began to deepen, shapes arising from the mists of forgotten days. Cold hands emerged reaching for the wombat who found herself alone. They took hold of her arms and legs, her mind a swirl of emotions as they ripped the tan fur from her body, leaving black steel where flesh had been, one slowly wrapped around her throat...

"Nemi!" The young wombats head snapped upwards again, eyes quickly searching the room from habit, her needle and thread in her lap untouched. A stern looking older ferret stood over her, more grey mixed into her black fur than anything, her voice shrill as nails on a board. "What do you think you're doing this time, your mother said for you to learn to sew like a proper lady." A long finger came down, tapping on the bridge of the wombat's nose. "What would your mother say if she could see you, napping instead of learning?" With a flurry of activity the ferret gathered her skirts and whirled away to help another of the maids fix her stitching. Nemi looked down at her paws, the skin under her fingertips hard from callouses and time spent outdoors. She could hardly even feel the small bit of copper, her stitching was haphazard at best and her eyes narrowed at the mere thought of a few more hours of this. Sunlight streamed in from the nearby window and without too much of a thought she stood and easily as one greets another she jumped.

She landed on the thatched roof of the stables, nestled next to the Rose Tower. It was one of four towers that made up castle Grey Wind, with a fifth lone tower over looking the cliffs to the south. There was one of her favorite haunts, she could listen to the sea talk to her for hours, the crash of the waves on rock music to her small ears. Connecting the four towers a rather small stone wall had been built and that was where she scrambled to next, looking more like a monkey than anything else as she gained the top of the wall, cloth clad feet whispering on hard rock as she ducked under a watchman, clad in light chain. From behind her cries rang from the tower, the teacher was going to no doubt panic again. So with a small jump she lept from the wall towards the hut that housed the cooks and kitchens, rolling on the thatched wood covering to fall onto the ground. Another armored clad male tried to reach for her but he seemed to be moving so slow and she easily spun around him, darting out between the twin oaken gates that stood to protect the gateway. In a heartbeat she had vanished off onto the plains, and from there into the woods.

From the top of the Rose tower her father stood next to a window, the hint of a smile showing upon his face. Minus his blue eyes and the fact that he was a male, him and his daughter were near splitting images of each other, right down to how she tried to escape her lessons. He turned as his wife came into their room, her face flushed with hostility. "You let her run off again, I know you had something to do with this!" It was true enough, he had let his daughter train with the guardsmen. The master at arms, a gruff old wolf had taken the girl under his wing. Hell, rumor even had it she had managed to beat the old man a time or ten and the bruise he sported on one eye was not from a hunting accident. He reached out, fingertips brushing against his wives shoulders to hold her still, peering into her green eyes with love across his face. Her voice wavered, she could never stay mad when he did this. "I..I demand you call out the hunters and find our daughter, who knows what could happen to her out there all alo..." She could never finish the sentence before his lips touched hers, cutting off that care as his fingers slid down her black chest, rummaging under the silk gown his wife wore. He broke free with a soft shake of his head. "We both know that she is almost grown into a women now, and she is as strong-willed as you, and as shifty as me. She will return in good time." He gave her a half push towards the bed, a letter with the kings seal still unopened next atop the table at the far end of the room.

You see, while Grey Wind was dozing in a peaceful slumber elsewhere in the world wars were being waged. Almost a dozen kings and queens all vied for the others thrones. A dozen men and women ordered tens of thousands to their deaths. Men raped women, children killed children over scraps of bread, brothers fraught brothers over matters of honor, or for simply being on the wrong side of a line drawn in the sand. Grey Wind had lasted because it sat nestled next to the northern mountains, nothing of worth except a few men and women living their lives. And the letter from the king was one of four that had been sent from four different men, all wanting him to bend the knee. However the wombats of Grey Wind had never bent the knee, they had always endured, survived and outlasted their foes. Indeed, at this castle the horrors of war seemed far away even as the sweet sound of Lady Margith rang out in pleasure from the top of the tower, the guardsmen simply smiling and changing their posts as ordered.

And she ran, ducking from branches, around threes and through thickets. She had found her small stash of gear, a leather cloak and a boiled leather chest-piece to keep her safe from brambles, a small spear she had fashioned herself and her most prized possession. A small sword, only three feet in length but forged of castle steel, its twin rested in the hands of the castle master at arms. He had them made as a reward for getting him in the eye with her wooden sword... A sort of bribe to keep her quiet. The metal flashed on her hip, bared to all the world to see except for the wrap of leather that bound it to her hip. She settled into a small bramble and paused, listening to the sounds of the woodland around her. The birds screamed their songs to the heavens, the squirrels scurried around through the brush, it all was one to her as she became one with the trees. A small rabbit slipped close by and with the flick of a wrist a pebble nailed the thing on the skull, its life ended with a thrust of her spear. Within minutes she had a small fire crackling happily, rabbit roasting over the flames and not soon after resting in her belly as she layed back into the bramble, eyes slowly closing. Her last thought before sleep caught her was that she would have to make up some reason why she lept from a window.

She awoke with a soft grey covering on-top of her clothing and fur. Almost in a daze she took it between two fingers, the ash dissolving like her dreams the night before. She slowly stood, blinking as she noticed the grey atop everything. In the leaves, the grass, the trees. When she gave the air a sniff the scent of destruction hit her in full force. Her mind screamed RUN, but her body and heart could not quite understand what was happening. Or perhaps they just didnt want to as she felt her legs began to walk towards the edge of the woods. Nemi could not feel herself gasp as she came across the first corpse, hung from an old oak tree, one of her fathers guardsmen swaying as a soft breeze took hold, scattering the flies that had come to settle on him. She didn't feel the tear roll down her eye as she caught sight of the four towers, the corners of her life sitting like burnt chess pieces. One of the walls had been breached but by what she could not tell. Bodies lay where they had fallen, crows were thick upon the ground as she slowly crossed the open ground. What had been a place of life and warmth now sat still as stone, quiet as death.

She reached the main gate, only one of the great oaken doors still on its hinges, though it looked like someone had taken an ax to it. The other door was not even visible as she trekked into the yard. Everywhere she looked there was blood and bodies. Her fathers guardsmen in their chain, most had a dozen wounds or more on their bodies. Around them lay scattered the bodies of wolves, monkeys, pigs, cows, a dozen other unnamed species in a dozen styles of armor. Weapons lay strewn around as if some giant had dropped them across the field. From the corner of her eye she spied a wolf different from the attackers, the bruise over his eye almost impossible to see. She ran to what could have been one of her few friends. The old man-at-arm's body had almost a small mound of bodies around him. It seemed that he had wedged himself in a corner and fought until someone had sunk two arrows into his chest. In one paw he still held his sword, and in the other sat her mirror blade. She bent down, some feeling deep inside her causing her hand to reach out and close the males eyes before taking her second blade in hand. She heard a scream from the remains of the tower of Roses and carefully began to head that way until an image of her father broke though her emotional barriers. She suddenly began to ran but was forced to pause when she walked through the broken remains of the thick iron banded door. Her father's men had took a stand at the bottom of the tower, the dead were piled higher than she was tall. The scream came again, sounding higher pitched this time as it echoed off the stone. She began to clamber over the press, someones weapon cutting her feet, another slashing her leather clad chest. She gained the stairs, just missing impaling her head on a set of spears set as a trap. Seemed that a pig had caught them however as she scooted past the body.

She climbed stairs slick with blood, her heart numb at this point. Several times she had to pause, once to lose the remains of last nights dinner out a window. She could hear the sound of a young women sobbing now as she came upon another ruined door. Inside sat a maid, a length of rope keeping her tied to the chair as a large dog sat lacing up his breeches. He chuckled looking at his prize before his sharp ears heard the sound of feet rustling against the floor. He twirled around with a sword in hand but paused when he spied the wombat maid at the door. Eyes searching her over, taking in her beheavled look and sending shivers down her spine. Slowly he placed the blade down on the table and broke into a wide grin. His voice was as course as sandpaper when he spoke, dripping with malice. "Well hello there sweet thing, how about you just drop the toy and come over here. This lil um is about to hit her end me thinks... So we will have all the time to get to know each-other." He strode forward as he spoke, great paws reaching out to her as if she was some pup. Nemi backed away slowly, her body shaking. Once more she was torn between running and hiding. Then her eyes caught something, a small pin on his shoulder. It was one of her mothers heirlooms... And the sight of it mounted on some swine like this awoke something inside her. Her lips parted in a smile as she slowly walked forward. The wolf grinned right back, and thought that she was going to be willing. He thought that right up until the steel blade of hers caught him in the gut, a flick of a wrist driving it deeper as she used it as leverage to lower him to the floor. She leaned into whisper to his ear as her fingers tore the jem off the filthy coat he wore, words coming as slick as the blood that stained his clothing. "I think that I already know all that I need to about you." She pulled her blade free and his body hit the floor with a wet smack as she quickly ran over to the young wombat tied to the chair, her face screwed in an expression of horror and disbelief. With a quick slash the bonds were free and without another word the other wombat began to cry. Nemi wrapped her arms around the others shoulders, holding her as best she could as the tale began to pour from her lips. She spoke of ropes being tossed over the walls in the dead of night, shapes from the darkness cutting down half the garrison before they knew what was happening. The other half had rallied, a sea of men had poured through the gate once the ram they had broke through. Someone had set fire to the oil under the west wall, the resulting fire almost enough to knock down its adjoining towers. Nemi was stunned, the words flowed in one ear, but could not take rest, jumbling around wildly. She heard her ask about her parents, a tear falling from her eyes and afraid to hear the response. The young maid shook her head slowly, before speaking of her father. He had stroke into the battle at its height, sword in hand and the family armored cloak tossed around his shoulders. However by then it was clear they would fall. The remaining men rallied around their lord in a vain attempt to pull back to the tower they now stood in. The gates were broken in a matter of minutes. The maid had hidden herself inside a cabinet. Her last view of Nemi's father was him fighting step by step up the stairs to their room, letting a pile of dead grow before him as he fought through his wounds to protect those he loved. She broke into tears and hid her face into Nemi's neck. Slowly however the young tan wombat pulled free of the others embrace, standing up and offering a paw to pull the other to her feet. "We have to move now, we have to find my father!" Her voice was thick with urgency as she gestured towards the doorway. "There could be others about as well, father said that you never find a battlefield clean of scavengers for long." But her efforts were in vain as the other wombat just shook her head, hiding her eyes behind an arm. Nemi made a sound of disgust, sidestepping the body left on the ground and climbing up the stairs two at a time. For some reason she no longer felt afraid, she had her sword in hand, fingers tight on the handle with blood drying on the blade. She reached the top door, still on its hinges. With a soft push it opened and she heard herself give a scream of grief, rage and hate. She found her father in-front of their bed, head rolled halfway across the floor. Her mother had been taken once her father had fallen if the ropes that held her spread eagle upon the bed were any indication. When they had finished with the lady of the castle they had just slit her throat and left. Nemi sank to her knees and gave a moan, a low sound that seemed to echo though the hollow walls, the ceiling mostly gone into a charred mass. Seconds turned into minutes as she lay there, disbelief easy to see across her young face. At last however her eyes narrowed and she stood, a forearm wiping away the tears. She was a child born of the Grey Wind, the castle to the north where even gods had left them alone long ago. She belonged to the one family that had never bent its knee to no other lord or king. She was a noble, and she was trained. She walked forward and kneeled down beside her fathers body, fingers that seemed twice as thick undoing the clasps of her father's cloak.... her cloak, her birthright. Even through all of the fighting no weapon had managed to pierce through its woven layers of fabric, chain and plate. Its maker dead ages ago, it was better protection than solid plate, lighter than a feather cloak, and made less noise than a shadow. Her mind was set as the cloak fell around her own shoulders, the leather of some beast that had died long ago brushing against her tan fur. She would have revenge, she would find those who had caused all this pain and let them know that the wind still blew. Her eyes spied a bit of crumbled paper, the kings seal broken but viable. She read it as she went to her fathers hidden armory, popping the tiny panel to draw fourth bottles of quicklime, blades to hide. Her training kicked in, the long hours in the woods lending her a speed needed to survive, days spent sparing in the yard let her choose what she would need in the trails to come. As she tossed the letter into the floor she heard a scream from below, cut off as quick as it started. She twirled around an stalked down the stairs, eyes red with tears, eyes ready to see blood spilled.

Voices came from the room that the maid had been left in. Mutterings about the body she had left, they grew louder as she came around the doorway. Two men, both wolves stood around the corpse she had left, one cleaning off his bloody dagger with a cloth. "Well dammit, didn't think the girl would be trouble..." The larger of the two poked the girl with an exposed foot. "Jeb should have known better though, none of these rodents are worth our time." He laughed and gave the girls body a hard kick, sending her rag-dolling into the wall with a sickening thud. The other spoke up with a matching chuckle. "Oi, it just means that we followed our orders, no survivors right boss?" At the same time both their ears perked, picking up the sound of something whistling through the air, hearing the sound of two bits of honed steel punching through their necks, the shiny points now jaunting from the front of their throats. Nemi could have almost laughed herself at the expressions they wore, paws unable to decide if they should grab at their necks or throats. The smaller one sank to the floor quickly while the other one took a few steps towards her. Without a second glance she ran, passing by another pair of wolves picking up the bodies at the base of the stairs. Someone shouted her fathers name in shock, his partner threw a spear her way. It hammered into the stone doorway of the tower as her eyes took in the patches each one wore. Two stars over a black background was the sign of the town guard of Weathered Shores, a large city to their south. Once she got into the yard sunlight hit her like a ray of hope as she ran, as fast as she ever could. She hit the woods without even remembering how she had crossed the space between the walls and trees. Hell, she didn't even notice the arrow sticking from her shoulder until she paused for breath. Her breath came in ragged gasps as she tore it out with not a care, patching the ragged hole with moss from a nearby tree to help stop the bleeding as she began to run again. She was sure by the end of the second night that she had lost whoever had attempted to find her, if her fathers men who lived here could not find her no one could in these woods.

She took shelter under a rocky overhang, eyes glazed from pain and blood loss as her eyes closed. She dreamed of red, of shadows slowly walking from blackness towards her. Of becoming something more and yet less than what she was. It was as if her fur and skin was just someones ill fitting clothing. She dreamed of using her bare hands to climb over the bodies of those who had ended her life, a throne of bleached skulls was her seat of power. And then a whisper came into her ear. She awoke with a start, two men with touches standing over her with spears leveled at her chest. Between them stood a man wearing silks and cloth, a great fat pig, fat even for his kind. He tilted his head and made a tisking sound with his tongue. "Well, seems we have another rat. My dear girl, do you want to live?" Her eyes toyed across the two sharp metal points aimed at her chest and simply nodded. His face became a look of glee before nodding back. "Well then you'll be coming with us, be a shame if outlaws or robbers found someone like you all alone." The two men both took one of her arms and roughly hauled her back to her feet. The world seemed to swim around as she saw two wagons, drawn by horses sitting nearby. Written across one of the sides in bright red letters was, 'Ram's Men-at-arms'.