"Must...protect cubs..."

Hearing came back first, a low humming sound, the crackling of flames. Next came feeling, every ache and pain, and biting cold. Such an unusual sensation, for bears that never felt cold, even up in their arctic desert. Then sight, though more slowly than the rest. As he woke, Forgeron heard voices speaking quietly, bear voices. He tried to pull himself upright, but found his muscles rebelling against him.

"Who is there?" His voice sounded odd, weak, hoarse and...different. "It is us who should be asking you that, hoo-man. What were you and the others doing out there, with the fire-hurler and armor of the Guard all around you?" Turning his head slowly, Forgeron saw two bears he didn't recognize glaring back at him. Their gaze was oddly cold, even with the flickering of the fire reflected on their dark surface. "I...am part of the Guard, I am Forgeron, it's captain." Both bears snorted. "You, Forgeron? Impossible, you are not even a bear!"

Hearing this, Forgeron pushed back the coarse blanket that covered him and shot up, looking down at himself. He had no fur, only ugly pink skin! And his hands, they were no longer clawed, just ten calloused fingers with flat, human fingernails. Feeling his face, his heart sank even more. It was flat, though he did have a thick beard and shaggy hair, but it this was the only place he had it, despite a thin layer on his pink skin. He suddenly realized he was naked, and self-conscious about it. Looking around, all of the Guard was there, all humans.

"The witches!" he hissed and looked at the bears. "The witches! The queen, she said she'd cast a spell on the arrows and shot us with them, they would turn us human, and it worked! Oh, curse her wretched soul to the very depths of damnation!" His lamented cry brought the rest out of their stupors, to realize just what trick the witches had played upon them. "No!" Rolvaag howled and looked at his human body. It was well muscled and lean, but held only a fraction of the power of his former bear-body. "How can this be?"

Beside Forgeron, Kasatka sat up and drew her blanket tightly around her. "Forgeron, what has happened to us?" she asked, fear marking her dark eyes for the first time since he had known her. "It was those blasted witches, my love. The arrows, they were ensorcelled with some kind of morphing spell." The biggest bear flipped a stack of clothing at the former-Guard and stood. "Dress well, we will be taking you to see Vraurk Vradish once the blizzard clears up." With that, the two bears lumbered to the open mouth of the cave and made their hollows in the snow. "I'll have both of your tongues as trophies for speaking to the Guard like this, I am the son of the king!" Soren bellowed after to two, for all the good it did. Forgeron grabbed his arm and growled. "Oh, so when you're in trouble you're the king's son, but when you aren't you gripe about him? Sit down boy, something's up here." Sulking, Soren did as he was told and went for the clothes.

"How can this be..." Rolvaag repeated, though his voice was quiet. Dramoro reached for the clothes, choosing a pair of fur-lined breeches and a thick shirt for himself and for Dohai. They were significantly too large for the skinny young man, so he rolled up the legs and arms before helping him dress. "Roll the sleeves down if you get cold." he said softly, managing a sort of half-smile to comfort his little brother. Staring with wide-eyed fear up at Dramoro, Dohai nodded and shrugged on the thick coat made of reindeer hide and the breeches of tough but flexible seal skin. A pair of boots lined with yak fur and soled with walrus skin finished off the ensemble.

Once everyone was dressed, the troop huddled closer to the fire and spoke quietly, so their captors could not over hear them. "I don't understand, why did those witches change us?" Pyree asked, her eyes full of naivety and bewilderment. "It was a feud - is a feud - between that clan and the bears." the normally silent Modomnoc said. All of the former-bears turned their faces to him. "Go on..." said Solange, currently hugging the two cubs, or children as they now were. "When Vraurk closed the borders of Svalbard, he...offended the queen of that clan. No one knows truly how to offend a witch, they have no qualms with anyone but other clans. They are not self-conscious about anything...they are passionate and take joy or pain in things we cannot conceive. Vraurk found a way to offend a witch, legends are told about how he did it...but no one truly knows. She declared war on Svalbard, but something happened that stayed her hand, albeit temporarily.

"Years later, with no warning, a flurry of the witches attacked Svalbard and were driven back mercilessly. It is said that the snow was red that day...thick with witches blood. The queen was also killed in that attack...and the feud might have died with her, had her daughter not attained the throne. It's my guess they are trying to show Vraurk that bears are vulnerable too...turning his most prized fighters into his idea of nothing, into the things he hates the most; humans."