At first strike of sunlight in the cave, they troop was roughly awakened by the bears. It turned out there was more than two, there was around six or seven, with an accompaniment of two flat, sledge-like contraptions pulled by one bear each and used to haul carcasses back for the aging Vraurk. Both were empty, and the troop was told to ride on one, while the other was loaded with their armor, and two more bears pulled the fire-hurler.

They were very anxious about their armor, and watched tensely as the bears loaded and strapped it to the sledge. The bears took the utmost care with the armor, however, and the humans were ordered onto the sledge gruffly. "You just wait until we see Vraurk...my father will have your heads on a platter..." Helleri thought darkly as she huddled between her parents. She was very much a spoiled princess, knowledgeable in the ways of warfare and politics. Knowing that offending a bear, much less the Captain of the High Guard of Svalbard was a beyond deadly offense. Her teeth itched to meet in the throats of their captors, but they were nothing but flat, harmless human teeth.

Behind her, Dramoro was scowling at the two bears who followed their sledge as they made slow progress. It was snowing heavily, and the bears knew better than to try and hurry in a blizzard. It was better to arrive late than not at all. "Dra..." Dohai whispered softly to him. "Yes?" "What's going to happen when we get to the king?" The little boy's voice was shaking slightly with fear and nervousness. "I don't know, Dohai...but don't worry, I won't let anything happen to you." Managing a rare smile and hug for his little brother, Dramoro scanned what he could see of the landscape for any familiar landmarks.

A surge of heat alerted the troop, who were huddled together in an uneasy sleep, that they were nearing the "home" of the king. Because of his advanced age, Vraurk prefered to stay near the fire mines and shelter in their protection. He kept his own personal "secret service" as it were, and it was their responsibility to see to his health, wellbeing and safety, and to go hunting for him. As she awoke, Pyree shielded her eyes against the intense orange light pouring out of the mines. For an instant, she thought the day before was just a dream, until she looked down and saw her human body.

It tore at her heart not to be in her other form, as did her murder of the witch. She hated death more than anything, the grief it caused, the loneliness...In her mind, the crack of that young witch's back kept playing over and over, along with waves of remorse. Sitting up, she hugged her knees to her chest and rested her chin on them, watching the blank faces of the bears in the forge as they looked up in curiosity at the group of humans being pulled by the bears.

Modomnoc sat up and gazed blearily out at them as well, rubbing his eyes and stretching. "I'm not used to sitting still this long." Pyree murmured to him as he swung his legs over the side of the sledge and allowed his boots to hit the snow. "Did you ever wonder where these bears got the clothes we're wearing? It's not like they walked around with clothes for humans in hopes of finding a group of them naked in the snow, y'know?" She spoke rapidly, something she tended to do when she was nervous. Nodding, Modomnoc showed her a large, dark stain on the side of his shirt. "They killed some traders." he said simply. "They gave us the clothes so we wouldn't freeze."

Looking at her own clothes, Pyree noticed a few dark stains here and there, and a lot around the collar. She shuddered to be wearing clothes some unfortunate was killed in, but was thankful for their warmth. "Where are we?" a timid voice asked from behind them. It was Dohai, his brother not yet awake. "These are the fire mines, my guess is they're taking us to see Vraurk." Modomnoc said, moving over so Dohai could look out. "Wow..." the little boy breathed, having never been to the fire mines. Great flames sometimes shot up from the pits in the ground, where far below, forges worked hard at churning out armor and metal implements for firehurlers. Bear blacksmiths pounded out inch-thick sheets with their great hammers.

They rounded a bend in the muddy trail they were following, the jostling was such that it woke everyone else up to blink at the bright orange lights and become sufficiently worried about what Vraurk was going to do to them. Forgeron moved to the front of the sledge to try and talk to the bear pulling them, but he forgot that he was a human now, and not worth even the lowest bear considering him for conversation. So they continued in silence; Rolvaag, Dramoro, Soren and Helleri thinking murderous thoughts at the indignity shown them; Solange, Dohai, and Pyree wondering what was to become of them; Forgeron and Kasatka pondering ways to play their case before Vraurk; and Modomnoc, Nineveh and Rue quite indifferent to it all.

Before long, the sledges stopped and the bears unlashed themselves before escorting the troop to a cave hollowed out in the snow, guarded by two more bears who wore the emblem of Svalbard upon their helmets. Inside, the once-mighty King of the Bears sat, gnawing upon a haunch of reindeer meat. His fur was no longer white, it was a silver-gray and matted in places, his armor lay rusting in a corner. Vraurk as degenerated into a rheumy-eyed old bear, wasting away in a cave of blood-soaked snow. "Oh Vraurk..." Forgeron said upon seeing what his once-proud, spirited and powerful comrade-in-arms had turned into. "Forgeron? It can't be..." the bear-king said, hauling his arthritic body up and narrowing his watery eyes at the human who stood bravely before him. "That voice...it can't be, can it? You're a human...but I know that voice..." Moving closer to Forgeron, Vraurk placed a paw under his chin and turned his head this way and that.

"Leave us." he croaked to the guards. "But sir," a young and inexperienced bear interjected, "they were found with the Guard's armor and-" "I said LEAVE US!!" Vraurk boomed and the bears practically scampered. Helleri smirked at one of them as they left, and he it returned with a very nasty look. "You, who are you?" Vraurk asked, lumbering slowly to a corner of the cave and sitting down painfully. Dropping to his knee, Forgeron bowed and placed a hand upon Vraurk's left paw before introducing himself in the most formal way. "I am Forgeron, Captain of the Guard of Svalbard, and humble servant to you, my king." The rest of the troop all bowed deeply to Vraurk, who sniffed and placed his paw on Forgeron's back.

"Rise, I know it is you now, for only you and your kindred have ever greeted me in such an honorable way. Tell me, what has happened to you, my friend? What horrible curse?" With a grimace like he'd just swallowed something disgusting, Forgeron told Vraurk of his run-in with the southern witches and their revenge, though her whole party was killed. "Southern witches...an unusual breed. I've never known a witch to be so offended by one offhand remark. The whole clan was consumed by it, I'll wager those that attacked you were the last of her kind." Vraurk said, nodding soberly. "My friend, my greatest comrade in battle...I will help you in any way to resume your normal bodies. We bears also have some witches who are allies, mayhap they will know a spell to change you back."

Turning to his armor, Vraurk removed a small, periwinkle blue flower from within and whispered softly into it. "She will arrive shortly." he said, returning the flower to its resting place. The troop looked at one another quizzically, none had ever seen any magical artifact or knew that a flower given to anyone by a witch could be turned into a one-way radio, of sorts. The witch could hear anything whispered into it. "How have you been, Forgeron? It has been so long since I've seen you. I'm only sorry it had to be under such difficult circumstances." Vraurk was clearly eager to have visitors different from the other bears who guarded him day and night, but never really had anything to say to him. "I am fine, my friend. Our days are filled with nothing but wandering the borders of your kingdom, upholding your decree."

Soren noticed his father didn't make eye contact with him, no matter how much he beamed down at the rest. A low growl rose up in his throat and he forced it down. "Even now, in my time of direst need, he ignores me! The old, broken-paw, moth-eaten rug!! As a human I can't assume the throne, my chance at revenge is lost!" Clenching his jaw, Soren felt the blood rush to his face and his heart begin to pound. "All for nothing...nothing..."

Typically, Nineveh and Rue kept amongst themselves, huddled in a spot along the wall. Now as humans, their likeness was striking. They shared the same wide, ice-blue eyes and thin lips. The pale hair down to their shoulders topped off the image of a pair of ice-queens huddled in their frozen kingdom. "What now?" Rue hissed, barely stopping the despair from leaking into her voice. "I don't know, my sister. There must be something. Let us hope the witches called by the king can help, or we're doomed to another life of insignificance..."

Helleri and Dohai, now certain they were not to be condemned to death, soon lost interest in the adult's conversation and began to look for ways to amuse themselves. They wandered to the mouth of the snow cave and stared out at the comings and goings of the only true "bear city". Even so, these bears did usually gather for that long, just a few hours every day. It appeared to be quitting time, for the bears were gathering up the scrap metal to be placed into vats and melted down overnight to be reused. Gazing out into the bright, clear sky, Dohai noticed the ragged shapes of advancing witches and ran in fear back to his brother. "Witches! They are coming!"