Sacrifice's must be made and Summons of the wolf god

With the fall of night, the forest became a cold dark universe. In the looming black sky, the sun was not merely absent, but banished utterly. As Tamra struggled against her bonds, her trained ninja-senses detected strange movement...not quite human nor beast. She who had on many an occasion assessed men's positions and weaponry from their footsteps alone, she who had slain entire armies blindfolded and unarmed, now founded herself unable to understand the pattern of movement she heard...save for one, single horrifying realization--that with every passing instant, it was coming inexorably closer. Sometimes it was the familiar sound of wolf paws padding on the Earth, then the pounding feet of a gigantic man...and then it was simply the wind whistling and moving as something great, dark and fast cut through the air like a single vast blade, wielded by some invisible, malignant force.

"Show yourself, blast you! Show yourself!"

With strength buttressed by fear, Tamra at last snapped her bonds. A fierce, defiant hope surged through her body at the newfound freedom. The feeling faded when she realized that the sounds of movement--which now were strangely like paws and footfalls alike--had closed in. Gusty wind rushed through the night, pressing on the door of the hut.

A dusky fist exploded through the wood, splintering open a gaping hole in the door before tearing away the rest as a child might tear paper. The dark goliath stood like a grim statue in the place where the door had once been. A leather jacket identical to Madman's own save for its size strained to contain the creature's massive form. That such a thing would wear the garb of men seemed almost a blasphemous jest, as if he were a soldier clothed in the enemy's garb even as he slaughtered them.

"Hello pretty...miss me...?" the creature asked, his ivory fangs gleaming, his red eyes blazing the primordial fury of a hungry wolf, yet tinged with the amused arrogance of a man. With an angry hiss, Tamra flew at him, striking out with every bit of the martial prowess that her many years of training had built upon the foundation of her innate, nearly inhuman talent. The blows she unleashed were as fast and powerful as they were precise in their aim. Wheel-kicks, elbows, ridge-hand strikes, spinning back-fists and tiger-claws comprised an attack as varied as it was flawless. Each strike was different from the one before it, each perfectly executed...each hitting empty air. Each utterly, utterly futile. As if to mock her, Rogar moved only barely in his evasions; enough to avoid her attacks, while all the while remaining in front of her, leering.

"My turn," he growled, nailing her with the same super-kick that had shattered boulders, but which merely rendered Tamra unconscious. Rogar appraised her limp form for a moment, then slung her over his shoulder.

"Nice moves...Madman wants t'kill yah..." Rogar snorted. "I think we can use yah. Maybe whoever breaks more bones in this battle royal gets to decide..."

As Rogar came out of the hut, he flung his head back and howled at the black, starless sky above. A chorus of howls answered him.

"Yah hear that world? The Prime Evils are back! And this time...ain't nothing gonna stand in our way!"