There is entirely too much talk of War, entirely too much. Thus his conversation goes with Darwin today, the tension ever building between the kingdoms. It was really a matter of the straw that broke the camel's back now and so Weir did as Weir does- he meandered about the Dale deep in conversation. Both without a care really, though ever watchful, Weir had done his best to pick up extra patrols- their numbers still so very small.

That's how it happens, that's how he will remember it in the years to come when they ask. "Me? I was in the Dale, minding my own business.." Everyone has a story, where were you when it happened they will say?

As it were Weir was home, just as we've said, strolling along the Dale border. He was mid-sentence when the birds flew from the trees, a reverberating shutter as they clamored into the sky all at once. The next thing is the smoke, deep and black rising from the North. The Chamber, that was what was north. The fire. Great pillars of flame licking the sky just high enough that he can see.

It's chaos, it is terror, it is War. It's begun without them, like it or not. It's begun whether they are ready or prepared. Well, not the Dale, he wont let it be taken so easily.

He's often dreamed of being a hero, why not? This is the fire to fuel his own gifts, pulling from himself the ice and snow that he will need- drawing from the winter air what he can't. First, a wall. Impossibly high and thick, Weir's eyes light from amber to white as the Christmas magic surges through him. He's got to be quick, he's got to think fast, it's his home and their lives at stake.

The roan decides that isn't enough, not nearly, not when the powers that rallied against them had magicians great and small. 100 ft before they reach the Dale they'll hit the whiteout. The blizzard that Weir's called, ever circling his wall, blotting out all that one might see, something to lead them astray- something to keep his family safe. He calls the icy winds into a cyclone of action, forcing them harder and faster in their circle, whipping them like an unending lasso.

Finally he makes the guardian, a being of snow, a golem- they'll need what help they can muster. With that he himself turns into a blizzard, Darwin's body fiercely separating into flurries as well, and he howls away- away to find Ramiel and the others.