The two factions stand in an abandoned warehouse – Black Spiral Dancers and Bane – meeting for the first time. The physically imposing Dancers dwarf most of the Bane with the exception of a four armed cleaver wielding beast who stands at the side of Bane in charge. She has long black hair which coils around her legs and despite her slight stature obviously commands the attention of the bane.
“It is good to meet at last, we have been looking forward to this,” her voice a triad of a whispy woman, a sick child and a deep guttural presence.
“I am sure this day will be one to remember,” a familiar voice.
Wyrm-Takes-Last steps forward, out from the ranks of the Dancers.
“The Wyrm has long desired an ally like you.”
“Is that what you think we are?”
Tension bleeds thickly into the air. Dancer and Bane already both feel a difference between them.
“We are allies to no one. We owe you a debt of gratitude, but our agenda is our own.”
The woman hisses and four-armed cleaver wielding beast steps forward in challenge. Her his forms words as he brandishes his weapons.
“That is not the deal we worked out. We freed you. You serve us.”
“A bane. Upset at betrayal. Ironic.”
“I will give you one last chance to submit to the Wyrm you shadow of a Werewolf.”
Wyrm-Takes-Last steps forward sizing up the four-armed Bane and bares his teeth.
“Very well… let’s see how this plays out,” he says.