Exton

The dilapidated farmhouse comes into view and we rein in to stand in a line before the crumbling facade. I raise my voice, amplified by a hint of Power.

"Jean-Marc! I call you a great and manifest coward, one who wages war on women but has no stomach to face an equal. I challenge you to your face, cur! Come forth and face me, or we come in and drag you out!"

I pass the Power to Nekron.

"Your blood is foul and corrupt, twice dead, fit only for the dunghill." The words are so unlike Nekron that I realize that they must be some form of ritual insult. Then his voice softens to a Southern drawl. "Outside of that, you're a yellow-livered sonofabitch whose guts I mean to see the color of tonight. C'mon out and let's party."

Now the Power moves to Raina. Her words are bitter and precise. "Coward and cur, I challenge you! Spawn of Fenris, unworthy of his name, the Aesir scorns you! Your grandsire Loki scorns you! I scorn you! Come out if you dare, womanslayer, and I will send you to Hel's cold halls on the point of my sword!"

Jeb needs no amplification. His challenge is a roar that might have issued from the throat of Fenris Wolf himself.