Ian stepped forward to the remains of the nest. Reaching down, he lifted out the axe. Immediately, the power of the weapon coursed through him. It rebelled against him, seeming to fight for control over his very body. Ian fought back, forcing the weapon's sentience back. It ceased it's struggles, seeming somehow pleased. It left the distinct feeling that it would allow Ian to use it, but when it's true wielder came along, he would have to surrender the axe. "I do believe this will be helpful in our quest." Ian said. He swung the axe over his shoulder, bringing it to a rest about an inch from his back. A moment's concentration formed a sheath of ice around the weapon, which crept around Ian's right shoulder and left hip, connecting over his chest. He now wore the battle axe in a sheat of ice. I can shatter it at will if...when I need to. "Where is our next stop?"