It had taken an hour or so after the toenail pulling to break him. Stormin' Norman was surprisingly tough, but losing his fingernails after the toenails, along with a couple blasts of an Agonizing Pain spell from Tyson, started making him recoil at the touch. That was a sure sign he was cracking. A few intermittent blasts of Agonizing Pain and Heal Wounds, then a threat of castration with a nasty-looking hooked blade, and Norman finally talked.

The name he gave was "Charlie M.", who was some sort of fixer in Edmonton, in the Athabaskan Council. Brandon checked in with Leon via cell phone, and found out he was actually named Charlie Emm, and that he was a fixer with a bad reputation, involved in the smuggling routes to Russia. There was once a price on Charlie's head, from allegedly selling a batch of defective explosives to a member of the Russian mob. This had forced him to go even deeper in the shadows these days.

Presumably, it also forced him into desperate enough straits to rob from a Rivers clan stash, thousands of miles away. There HAD to be more to that story.

But it was no longer Brandon's problem. Norman would soon be chopped liver (metaphorically and literally), and the Rivers were contacting their family members and associates up in Athabaskan country. A team would be sent to pay Charlie Emm a "social visit". Meanwhile, Brandon would be spending the rest of the day indulging in a "post-game" session of sorts, another Rivers family tradition......

"You'll like these girls Brandon." Tyson said, while taking pulls from a bottle of synthvodka. "I picked out one just for you, nice older lady. Hasn't even been around the block that many times."

"Some of the prostitutes around here are probably better off putting up drywall for a living......" said Brandon.

Tyson patted Brandon on the shoulder. "Don't worry, we get these girls sourced from a friend of the family, he runs a professional escort service. You'll be glad I got you driving out here tonight, trust me."

As Tyson and Brandon turned towards the house though, they saw Brandon's mother, Wendy Rivers walking towards them. Wendy saw Brandon, and got a weird expression on her face. Brandon couldn't tell if she was mildly pleased or mildly annoyed.

"Tyson......Brandon......what brings you out here?"

"Greetings, Miss Wendy." Tyson said, while saluting. "We just finished cracking that burglar who broke in the other day."

"Took you long enough." said Wendy, sniffing dismissively. "And you even had to bring in an outsider to help. What are they teaching you kids these days......"

"Brandon isn't an outsider......" said Tyson, but there was a note of caution and fear in his voice. Anyone capable of viewing the astral plane would go green at the gills seeing the quality of magical particles floating around Wendy. No one in their right minds would brace a Rivers under normal circumstances, but even the most talented shamans and mages in the world would think twice before fighting Wendy.

"Brandon isn't an outsider? Is that so? Are you coming back to us then?"

Brandon shook his head.

"I cannot fulfill the full duties expected of me from the Rivers clan, and fulfill my blood oath at the same time."

"......So a blood oath is more important than your actual blood."

"I made an oath to the spirits of my ancestors to look after Matthew Hartigan. I swore this oath to his father, a man who died to save the life of Chief Bear. I would dishonour the spirits to walk away from that oath."

Wendy clicked her tongue.

"That would be this Leon Eagles character you've been seen with, yes? Matthew under a new name? What makes him worthy of taking that name? What makes him like the Eagle?"

"He would have the bravery to take us all on, if need be. And he just might win......"

Brandon gave Wendy a stare that could pierce through solid steel. Magical particles stirred in the air between them. Tyson fell back a couple steps, and had to fight the temptation to cut and run altogether. This was talent. This was something, for all his carefree attitude and family knowledge, that he could never hope to achieve.

But Wendy eventually stopped her show of magical force, and smiled.

"Well, it seems you haven't been wasting these past few years. You wear your magic well."

Wendy walked past Brandon, and lightly rubbed his shoulder.

"You've already shamed your ancestors once. Do not do so again."

Wendy walked away, and Tyson exhaled, releasing his inner tension.

Brandon and his mother had only spoken a couple times since his self-imposed exile from the clan, 13 years ago. Both of them had let some of their bitterness go over the years. Wendy was a hard woman to be sure, but she was still a mother at heart, and she still loved her son and wanted him back in the fold.

Brandon wouldn't come back any time soon though. He felt it would be hard to be consistently around to protect Leon on big jobs, while also living up to the family obligations, and taking up a bigger role in the clan. Brandon was a direct descendant of Sam Rivers after all, and got some power from his bloodline that others lacked. Things were expected of him, but he had his own obligations, written in blood, with Leon's father.

And besides, there were still scores to settle in the shadows. Leon wasn't the only one who wanted vengeance for the death of Jack Hartigan......

"What was Wendy doing here, anyways?" said Brandon, after Wendy had taken her leave. "What brings her out east?"

"She wanted ritual materials." said Tyson. "I think she got a chunk of kraken tentacle and some kraken ink."

"......Where on earth did we get a kraken from?"

"A couple of our cousins patrolled the Pacific with the Salish-Shidhe Navy. They took down a kraken that killed a couple ferries going from Vancouver to Anchorage."

Brandon almost shuddered involuntarily. THAT would be a nasty way to go out, taking a normally safe boat trip, only for a giant-ass octopus to turn you into its dinner. The Awakening did strange things sometimes, even to the average mundane civilian just trying to get a boat ride home......

Finally, they reached the house, where a few ladies of the night peeked out from windows and doorways. Brandon saw what he presumed to be his girl come out, an AmerIndian lady in her thirties, slightly overweight, with large breasts. She smiled when she saw Brandon.

"Is this the big guy you were talking about, Tyson?" cooed the lady, as she came out and wrapped herself all over Brandon, feeling up his muscular upper body.

"He's handsome......you didn't say he was handsome......"

Tyson grinned. "You take good care of her, eh? And leave the smaller girl all to me."

Brnaodn didn't hear him. Now he could forget a lot of his problems, and just lose himself in the pleasures of flesh, like he did as a creek lookout when he was 13.

......You had to savor the little things in life......