January 09, 2004.01.09.04. - the cost of sacrifice [eagles-unicorn-bane tender] *sd conclusion[caern]
(mark)
Normally, the students in the facility before them would be just winding down. The younger kids would be crawling into beds, while the older plotted to break curfew. All snug inside the well-lighted warmth of the dormitories.But not tonight. St. Patrick's Boarding School stood as abandoned as one could imagine. Moreso than Christmas Break. A few meetings with the few remaining Walker Kin had seen to the absence of not only the students on the extended break.. but the maintenence staff as well. Despite the fact that the 'extended break' was officially due to downtime maintenence due a freak storm, the costodians had been sent him as well. Thankfully, all of the Kin had not vacated the positions infested bawn..
It was before the deserted structure that his facetted blues gazed. They shone from the reflection of Luna's barely waning moon, just on the cusp of the flow from full to Gibbous. The pale light thrummed like a burning creshendo through heart, mind, body, and soul. A harsh exhalation, and he turned to face those he stood with, with the protest of leather, and the soft shuffle of athletic shoes.
His packmates he needed not to look to see, he felt them pounding though his blood as much as saw them with his gaze.
When all were gathered he turned, his voice sounding like a creshendo blast of bass, accompanied by the chill frost, like a horn of war, "Alright, we're ready to roll. Nobody's home, so it's pretty straightforward at this point. Straight to the caern. Let the theurges and the tender," who he didn't know all that well, "do their thing,"
His brow furrowed, "Even though this is now ours, after the raid led by the Eagles, best keep your eyes open make sure no rats have slipped in after. Questions? Comments? Now's the time,"
(leroy)
Questions? Comments? This caused LeRoy's lids a flurry of blinks. Finally cracking a grin, glancing back only briefly towards Nelly and the Strider gal behind him. "Um yeah..we goin'n puffered up" His body even seemed to swell as he emphasized his question, hand sliding out through the air with his next query brought to him "Or incognito as is?"(nelly)
She could not understand how a boarding school as noted as St.Patrick's could be vacated with a simple phonecall. But, leave it to those she could not understand, the Glasswalkers, to pull of a stunt like that.Questions? She had a billion of them aching to be answered. Glancing up to LeRoy, the corners of her mouth raised in a smirk. Then her hand raised, "Um... and is Faith our only Theurge here?" cocking a blonde brow towards her.
(caern)
It's cloudy tonight. Frigidly cold, well below freezing, they could only be thankful that it wasn't snowing, or worse. The loose gathering of Garou - which would be called small by the students of this school, whose most popular cliques might include twice their number, but would be called large by any Sept in these desperate days - stand in the shadow of the Gothic doorways. Those who had a pack stood with their own. Those who did not, stood alone.To the side, keeping to themselves, the Rotagar Alpha and Modi of the Eagle pack. One who watched Mark intently with bright blue eyes. The other who stood with his hands in his pockets, head down, nodding once with a slight sniff.
Beside Mark stood the much-vaunted Bane Tender, brought in from afar to aid in this. She was a small woman, but sturdily built, with Native American features. Though her face is unlined, her hair is greying to betray her age. Her eyes are deepset and keen, and very dark as they pass over the gathered Garou one by one.
They say she is an Adren. To her wise and tried eyes, many of these Garou must seem like children. Her demeanor is calm and unruffled, totally confident. Of all of them, she might be the only one who thinks this will actually work.
"I am a Theurge," she replies to Nelly Bell. "As long as I am here, you need not fear."
Just hope that's the truth.
(mark)
"Aside from the Tenderrhya," he nodded at the creepy Native American woman(faith)
'Broken' is how she felt. The higher aspect of herself surging upward with elation, and the lower dropped to the bottom of her spirit like shattered pieces of mirror. Not the best state of mind to be going to battle in, normally, but she seemed no different than her normal self - save maybe a little quieter. To her packmates, her thoughts were a low hum of anxiety and tension - due to the oncoming battle, of course - but otherwise she was careful to keep her head as clear as she could. No one knew how deep her thoughts went, though perhaps one could guess. Faith wasn't about to shed a tear; she'd ball everything up and drive it against the taint of this caern - hell, nothing much left to lose. Might as well.
Faith, her hair pulled back into a tight knot behind her head, looked to the facade of the school, eyes crackling with green fire.
"Nice to know I'm not headed into this all by my lonesome." She murmured, glancing to the Bane Tender. Faith's a little uncertain about her abilities as a Theurge to begin with. To say she doubted her skill would be enough to do anything about this... would be a dramatic understatement.(james)
dark eyes watch Smashing Machine from beneath the bandana tying back long dreads
trenchcoat left at home, he's down to a set of thermals and faded BDUs over his boots
cold as ALL fucking hell - but at least it's liveable and dedicated
the barely past full moon high above does a bit more to keep him warm
his head ticks to the side, symbolizing a shake"Y'r th' boss."
shoulders roll, and his gaze distances a little
centering himself just before the distant wind echoes raptorous scream
[Eagles' mighty strength]Remember how I explained it?
the words in his younger packmate's head(caern)
She never gave her name to any of them. She said, Names have power. They are sacred, and cannot be easily shared. But if this makes them wont to distrust her, at least the smile she gives Faith is, well, in good faith.Then a focus comes into those obsidian eyes. "I am ready when you are," she informs Mark.
(meskhenet)
The young strider stood ailent slightly behind Nelly, yet still so distant from them. She was here, to help. She had no real place here, she had no real, permanent place among them, but she was here, here to do what she knew was right, and what she knew they expected of her.But questions? None. Just fight if you need to..protect. She knew that well...what garou didn't?
Her eyes swept over to the Tender, and then to the others. Many of these people she had never seen before, never met or said a word to. Yet, she was here. She didn't know anyhting of them, who they were, what auspice, where thye had been, what tribes. She just knew they were her kind.
Meskhenet kept quiet, kept to herself and jsut resolved to follow orders. When this was all done, if this was ever done, and if she made it out..she knew where she'd be going, knew what she'd be doing, and by focusing her mind ont hat, she grew in strength.
She gave a soft nod to show ehr understanding, but did nothing else. they knew..they needed no more confirmation.
(kemp)
Breath coming out in short little clouds. Close enough to reach out and touch James if he wanted. Cold under the coat and though a smile slid across his face for a moment. Course I remember. Young as they came compared to most here. And then he followed suit by calling on Eagles Strength.(nelly)
A southern gracious smile was given to the... yep, scarry.. Native American Tender, nodding her head. But those bedroom blues shook a moment, flashing upon the face of the Alpha of her wants and her body gave a shiver."Freezing out here.." she mumbled, glancing back to Mesk with that smile waning. The draining effect of the Caern was building a new rock inside her stomach. Even her pockets packed with her taint twitched. ~lets just get inside...~ silently she thought, stepping forward to feed off of LeRoy's massive body heat.
(mark)
His shaven, sculpted head nodded in response to the Adren's words, before swivelling to the front door. He told himself he could barely see the shimmering shadow there by the door. Perhaps of a figure crouched there... but he reminded himself this was likely vanity. Johnny just hid too damn well.What's it look like from there? he called over the Totemlink to the hidden Ragabash.
Nothing so far.. came the dubious response from his limited perspective.
Good enough for him.
One final call to all on the link, hoping to bolster spirits, Keep everyone in sight, I'll be watchin' you all
"Alright, through the front door then. Faith, you're with the Tender and James," Theurge, strong ahroun. Works, "Decker you're on crashing duty with me. Rest of you fall in behind," Apparently however they wanted.
I'll take the charm first, give it to whoever needs it next Standard protocol for the point man.
With that he turned to head to the door, and presumably alongside the Get, strode inside, with Johnny's vigilant form shimmering to visibility.
(caern)
Decker straightens up, spits to the side, and pops his knuckles with an obscenely loud crack. Then he comes up alongside Mark, headed for the door."Alpha's a real expert on the Wyrm," he mutters with a jerk of his thumb to Erik. "He says somethin' 'bout one o' 'em, ya wanna lissen up."
The Bane Tender, meanwhile, simply smooths her hands over her plain denim jacket, falling in behind James. Her serenity, alas, does not seem to be contagious.
They can all feel a dread inside them as they approach the heavy doors. They know it to be the earliest signs of Harano, their own spiritual empathetic response to the dying Caern's pain. But what they know in their minds is not what they feel in their hearts, and what they feel in their hearts - barely held at bay by Mark's Inspiration - is the almost complete certainty that none of them will ever live to see the light of day again.
The doorway looks like the maw of hell, and they were walking right into it. War is glorious, but dying is not.
(leroy)
Sure..Though he wasn't told directly, he knew the place Mark truly desired him to be.Stepping towards Faith, away from Nell, his hand sweeping down, taking hers; urging her to loop a finger through his pivotable belt loop. "When I puff up.." He whispered suddenly with a gruff "You grab hold of my pelt, give me a twist in any direction like you would a shield. Thats what I am tonight boo. Got it?" Arching his brow as he waited only for a nod of understanding from her.
(faith)
"Got it, Boss." Faith affirms to Mark's directions with a quick, mock salute, going to stand with the Tender. She folds her arms, tensing as she stands up straighter - the southern Spirit-talker's ready to go.
The sight of the doorway to the school gives her a moment of pause - the solemnity of the situation washing over like an ocean tide. Faith's sensitive to such things anyway...
But when you've already hit rock-bottom, there's not really anyplace else to go. Death is just another option, in the grand scheme of things. If she goes down, then she joins her father, and his fathers before him, in a long chain through her ancestry.
LeRoy interrupts her fatalistic musing, and a slight smile breaks her features. Faith grabs a hold of LeRoy via the belt loop 'leash', and nods. "Got it." She murmurs back. "I always knew you were good fer somethin' besides burned cooking."(caern)
Inside, there is a small foyer. Cloakroom to one side. Staircase up to the dormitories to the other. An open doorway to the main hall ahead, which is a high, vault-ceilinged room full of shadows and fine old wood, echoes and the faint smell of floor polish.Their footsteps ring softly off the hard marble floor. This school is a private one, and it's filthy rich.
The Bane Tender breaks away from the group, walking into the center of the main hall. Her head tilted back, she makes a slow revolution in place, eyes shut as though she were listening. Then those pitch-black eyes open on Faith. "We must go to the Caern's heart, daughter of Unicorn. Take me there."
Without waiting for anyone - or for clearance that this place was unmonitored by mundane eyes - she slips instantly across the Gauntlet. If Mark had not taken precautions, there would have been a scandal by morning.
(nelly)
She had to recounter to initial step to fallow the scarred Fenrir, shakig her head of such desire... It was time for business! Quickly her feet changed suit behind Mark and Deker. Slipping the GI Joe backpack off to deathgrip in her left hand. Blues seemed to widen, pupils narrow to pins as they walked thru the mouth of doom. Maybe it rang thru her packs heads from her own, maybe it didn't, but the thought repeated itself ~Take care of baby girl, take care of baby girl~. Her right hand dug into the second skin black denims to grab ahold of a tiny redleather satchel.(mesk)
Meskhenet saw Nel's smile. Howeve rmuch of a smile it may be. She, couldn't bring herself to do it. But she felt some sort of admiration for someone able to put up the face for it.
Mesk brought ehr attention right back to Mark. Fall in behind. Simple enough...easy enough. She cast a look to Nel, and then Le. And for a moment she only imagine what either would be like if they werne't garou at all. It happens sometimes. When you feel something dakr in your heart, adn you feel something so deep, so..wrong nearby...and you think the end is near, you start thinking. It was only momentary however, and soon she was up beside Nel as Leroy moved from her. She gave a glance to her, but couldn't force a smile. She didn't say anything. She didn't need to. She was there, beside Nel, and thats all that was really needed.(james)
Good breif ascertation of the other Fenrir, before inward attention returns to the young Rotagar Let Decker and Erik do their thing. You'll know what to do when the time is right.... Fenrir and Gaia have already written it across your heart.how strange it must be for Kemp to hear his voice without the battlescar slur
but the Ahroun doesn't give him time to think about any of it
just flashes a (forever) lopsided smile
and takes his place beside Faith and the Tenderfar beneath the layered sleeves of his shirt
black across flesh shimmers and swirls
two wicked lengths of bladed steel melting in his handsthey're as serious as the layer of dread which blankets the team
(already, James' heart had sunk so low...)
no Garou is ever sure whether or not they will see the coming dawn
each will die - they can only choose to die well and live on in their comrade's memories
[Inspiration]James pushes to cross the Gauntlet behind the Tender
(leroy)
He only glanced back, as a shield he awaited her urgence forward by the push upon the small of his back.(mark)
All he could do in response to that ominous trepidation, is furrow his brow with steely control. Unlike the others, he did not have the benefit of his own inspiration. The harrano twisted in his gut, and had nothing but the thoughts of his packmates.. Faith.. and his mate.. and Black Unicorn's driving will to keep it from burgeoning into full fledged despair. Tightly within that hard, chiselled statue of power, did those quaking emotions reside. Secret, he kept them even from his own packmates... save for one.. who he could never fool. Nor, did he even try, anymore. She alone knew how close he was to laying down and giving up, half the time.When the Banetender spoke, and subsequently vanished, the Glass Walker Ahroun turned, and grimaced, keeping his displeasure at her splitting so suddenly inward. Nothing for it but to keep up with her.. it was their duty to keep her safe after all. Whether she wanted it or not.
Short and to the point, he ordered so there would be no confusion, "everyone across, n follow," as he dug into his pocket, pulling out the small mirror he always bore. Looking past his own reflection, he saw the other side. And from there all he had to do was step... sideways... right angles to reality.
(nelly)
It was the shadow of the body besid her that brought her head swiftly around... eyes wide in anxiety. ~Mesk...~ her shoulders lost their tenseness a glimmer of a bit as that smile, waned, returned to her lips."Glaucous," glancing to the Alpha of her pack, she nodded and brought the satchel up for her lips to hold upon. Reaching her right hand into her back pocket, she removed a compact mirror and offered its reflection to Mesk to gaze upon as the knot in her stomach tightened more.
(faith)
Faith does guide LeRoy forward, until they reach the hall where the Tender side-steps. She glances first to him, then to Mark. Not that she needed to look to know how he felt - she knew him well enough by now.
She captures her Alpha's gaze, and a single fiery thought crosses the small distance between them; the meaning, though, is etched in iron.
Stay with me.
Then, focusing her concentration back on the task at hand, she tightens her grip on LeRoy. "Hang on." She murmurs, and with that, she seeks out the barrier between this realm and the one atop it with her spirit, dragging them both sideways into the Umbra.(kemp)
Crap crap crap crap something was always running through his head like background noise and here he was pulling out the little cracked mirror to look at the distorted reflection and do what he'd only done a few times before. Laying one hand over the pendant against his chest on the way.(mesk)
She leaned slightly to look at the reflection. It only took a word fro her to being pulling herself across, slipping into the world she was only beginning to learn, and would, for her life, wander in search of answers.(leroy)
It was between this world and that, LeRoy 'puffed up' wrestling forth from within the war form Gaia had given him. Towering before all, Faith seemed more like a child tugging on the tail of some beast now that he shifted. His pelt was majestic, silvery white, solid save for the dotted patches of obsidian running from maw chin down the middle of his chest, ending where his bipeddle legs met. There was no doubting now despite his lack of pedigree that he did not come indeed from a champion breed. Falcon was just too damn picky.(caerm)
There's a mutter of discontent from the Modi as the Bane Tender flits the fuck across the Gauntlet. Then he, having no mirror (sorry. ain't carryin no fuckin compact.), puts his hand out to find James' shoulder, letting the other's stronger spirit guide him across.On the other side was a dark looking-glass world; the same grand hall, only this time strung with grey streamers of cobwebs, heavy with the scent of decay and disuse. Holes gaped in the wall and leaked wind. Even last time, the Caern did not look so bad.
Yet the Bane Tender seems unfazed. On this side she has taken her Crinos form, which is only seven and a half feet tall, splotched with brown and black and white. She wears braids in her hair/mane, and strange glyphs are shaven into the fur of her arms and back.
"Come, daughter of Unicorn!" she sounds almost excited. Almost looking forward to this. "Quickly now, the Heart of the Caern! There is a Bane to bind!"
Faith knows the way to the Caern's Heart. If she does not, Mark does: it lies through the double doors at the far end of the hall, up one flight of stairs, all the way to the right. It lies in the grand old library of this school, at the center of which was an open-air atrium where an ancient tree grew astonishingly well. Or did, once.
(mesk)
She slipped into the Umbra, feeling that usual feeling of..whatw as it? Dread? dispair? Was it from the umbra? or jsut herself? It was from inside, somewhere...she felt her stomach tie in knots...her throat close up, but yet, she hid it, determined to ignore it at all costs.She set her eyes on those who ahdmade it across, and slowly took in a deep breath. She let ehr skin slip up into her own tall, sleek, and lithe form. Her fur slimmed across her form, and soon she had flicked her jackal ears slightly to listen. She was use to it..sue to pausing to listen and gather herself.
Mesk canted her head down at Nel, her slim, bonelike tail flicking lightly. She was ready..for anything. She was ready to feel ehr adrenaline pumping...this sort of thing..was what she had been waiting for..for a long time. Another chance.
(nelly)
As soon as Mesk stepped sideways, she waited for the rest of those with her group to do the same. Only then she did traverse the gauntlet, eardrums prickling from the pressure of stepping from the physicall to an umbral plain.Stuffing the compact into her backpack in hand, removing the satchel nestled between her lips... she took form. Glabro. Her ears elongated... tuffs of hair, bright green hair, growing over her skin; the second skin clothing she adorned splitting with the new bulked form. But the fabric clinged still to her body; for wrapping itself around her bulked muscles there seemed to be, faintly glowing ethral vines ((attn st: Numen-spirit of undergrowth 1)).
(faith)
Faith grows also once she's across, taking Glabro - her hair extends, becoming wilder, the tips fading from red into snowy white. Her clothes, bound to her, adapt with the shift, though it seems a little ridiculous on her lanky, muscle-ripped form - tufts of white fur extending along her limbs and clawed hands and feet.
And she still looks like a little kid compared to LeRoy's giantesque stature.
And the Tender's talking like a kid in a candy store. Nudging LeRoy forward, Faith calls up a mental image of the school, and starts towards the library.
Gaia help her...(james)
there's a.... breif.... thought as the Tender frolicks off in some strange excitement
between Livingston, Sputnik, and now the Adren
James has a very interesting conception of just exactly the Theurge normbefore joining in and shifting to Crinos
he pauses and hands the rebar sticks to Kemp
as familiar umber eyes shift to lupine
perhaps there is an expression of apology
remember what happened the last time the young Fenrir held the steel
(have heart, Mark told them....)
but the Ahroun is, once again, giving no time to protest
shaggy body turning to follow his charge
dragging his talons across the floor to sharpen themhe is to watch the Tender's back - the others can watch his
952 PM to Kemp Oates, ::Caern::, CnP Wench: ((okay, Kemp has the rebar sticks...3 feet long, sharpened to blades on one end of each, dam str +2, soak/block +1 when used.... James used a rage for Razor Claws, and the previous 1 gnosis for Inspiration... I'm keeping notes of his spendatures and whatnot, but just to keep you updated))
(mark)
Just before the moments his body plunged across the barrier of the worlds.. The Full Moon received a breathtaking double-whammy of encouraging spirit. Ask him later and he wouldn't be able to tell you what affected him more. The Gnawer's channeling of Gaia's very essence to wash away the clogging stains around his heart, or his own Beta's heartfelt feelings pouring through the Totem.Yeah. Stay with you. That's goddamn' fuckin' A right.
Then he was splashing against the Umbra. A creature of flesh turned spirit. At first he felt like a man drowning at the bottom of a dark pool.. then he remembered he had gills, and simply breathed
Instantly he began his shift.. from 6'3" to 9'whoknows. Muscles bulged beneath sprouting fur. Wickedly curved black claws flexed on the ends of long disproportionate arms, suited for rending. His fur was patterened. Heavily black, with interwoven slashes of orange and red. Natural.. yet.. not. His proud wolf's maw split into a rictus smile of daggerlike teeth, as he loped to the fore, to make certain the Tender wouldn't be alone.
Somewhere during the journey, he slowly activated part of Gaia's spirit himself. Telling his the weavern spirits inside his hands to awaken. Black claws became metallic. Lightning the color of his own blue-eyed Rage arced in angry sparks.
(caern)
The farther they go the darker and colder it seems to get. Every last breath of life seems to have deserted this place. Some of them might remember the way it was when they first came here, before those who called themselves elders and leaders failed them one by one, and fled. They might remember the peace and calm that grew with every step. The feeling of unspeakable wisdom; the weight of an eon of knowledge stored silent in these spirit-walls, this spirit-stone, beneath this spirit-earth.No more. Now the Caern is bitter and cold, like ashes in the mouth.
The doors open with a squeal. Correction: the right door opens. The left one topples cleanly over when Decker - now also in Crinos, huge and grey with a white-marked chest and shoulders - barely lays a handpaw on it. The crash that ensues echoes up and down the halls, pinning the Modi's ears to his skull, making him crouch in instinctive preparation for the attack.
But there is no attack. There is only the remnants of a battle fought - how long ago? They might never know. Perhaps last week. Perhaps just ten minutes before.
The shredded spirit-remains of one of the Uktena Ghost Pack lies just beyond the doors, slowly dissipating into the ether of the Umbra. Its features are no longer recognizeable; neither sex nor age might be determined from the dissolving spirit-corpse.
Not too far from him, halfway up the stairs, lies a second spirit guardian, ripped asunder.
(leroy)
Like those around him, he too felt the despair of the Caern's spirit. The taint and revulsion of it inspired his rage to the forefront. Yet unlike his packmates and coleauges, the despair that manifested within him was bound behind an exterior of cheer. A trait LeRoy was famed for back home amongst his own. His smile of comfort shown bright in many a dark hour.A cringe pins back both ears as his eyes sqwint at a percieved attack not forthcoming with the topple of the door by the Fenrir near them. Glancing to his side, then other. Eyes adjusting to the near dark they were now sqwandered. Tight and unmoving unless Faith pushed him forward, vigilant though at the carnage before him. Still yet, his maw carried with him the guile and warmth that Unicorn had given him. Upon those who's hearts seemed panic stricken did he most assurdly give it.
(kemp)
Nodding silently to James when handed those rebar sticks, almost cringing with the feel of those bars in his hands. Then he was shifting, though his size wasn't anywhere near some of them since he started at about 5 and a half feet to begin with. Crinos, his clothes now dedicated to him, replaced with a dark brown and black coating of hair, his features turning to something he considered monster movie stuff about 6 months previous. Clutching those sticks tighter with the horrible feeling here. This was worse than one of those horror movies where you just knew something was hiding and going to jump out and scare the crap out of you.(mark)
He'd have to sorely thank James later. For he had to doubt whether or not he could have handled the sight of the carnage before him, without benefit of that heartstirring bolstering. The plunging tears in the figurative raping of Gaia, in the death of her Gaurdians.Once his instinctive crouch at the deafening sound relaxed, his claws flexed in a ball, the arcs visibly intensified, along with the palpable feel of Rage that grew from him, like static electricity on the backs of those nearest's necks.
He almost feared to look to see the state of Whispers' current condition. Pouring Gnosis in that caern daily wouldn't be able to stave off such an affront.
(nelly)
She stepped back, away from the group she traversed with to flank them all. The vines clinging to her skin seeming to flow like water... she moved, It moved.She took a deep breath... nearly choking upon the decay in the air... had to search for her own scent... Night jasmine and moss... to catch her breath. The door caused her body to jump, pausing for the signs of attack. When none came, she stepped forward... again at a safe distance from all others... and walked just to the doorway. There the spirit bodies ripped at her gut... the scar across her stomach burning, tears in her eyes welling up. With teeth gritted, she knelt down and took a moment to reach into the small satchel. A seed removed.
(caern)
The lean Rotagar, tough as nails and old sinew, skirts ahead of the crowd to crouch by the first fallen Uktena-spirit. It didn't take a Theurge to know spirits didn't just die like this. They dissolved, but then they Reformed; they were, for almost all intents and purposes, effectively immortal.But these were dead. Destroyed, utterly. They would never Reform.
The Rotagar grunts. If this sight disturbs even the mind behind that battle-scarred face, he does not show it, instead hefting his fetish shotgun over his shoulder and falling in line again.
The Garou are all walking a little closer together now. Whether they had disliked one another or not, had argued and fought earlier or not, no longer mattered so much. They were social animals, and the last hope of Gaia. In times like this, they drew strength from each other: from the Inspiration of the Ahrouns, as well as from more subtle sources. The warmth LeRoy exuded. The steely determination of the Fenrir Alpha. The rock-solid strength of the Glass Walker Ahroun.
When Nelly pauses, so does Decker, the black greataxe slung over one massive shoulder as he looks down silently, but without impatience or scorn, to see what the other meant to do.
Meanwhile, at the head of the line, just behind Mark, the Bane Tender and her flanking guardians had crested the top step and were now on the second story, headed directly for the library.
(faith)
Faith comes to a sudden halt at the first body of the guardian, her feral face taking on an expression of shock.
"...No."
Her packmates feel a burst of anger from the usually easy-going Theurge, a growl sounding in her throat as she turns her eyes to the stairs.
Not like this...
LeRoy is pushed forward, Faith's claws digging tighter into the fur. She's going.(james)
even in Crinos those dreadlocks never fully went away
the monstrous beast looking like some Alsatian gone terribly overboard with steroids
waking up after the worst of bed-head episodes
full of bristling fur, murderous teeth, and diamond hard claws
the ultimate of Gaia's chosen warriors
even in such a form - it is hard to face what's left of the Caern
witnessing the further carnage and dispair that breaks tidal at even the strongest of their hearts
(he only hopes his gift supporting Mark's is enough.... for him, for the Walker... for them all...)instead of dwelling on why the mangled guardians would never reform....
James relies on the one thing that has kept him drawing breath with each dawn gifted
it enabled him to slay the betrayer pack
it enabled him to live past the death of his mate and child
(and the possible loss of another)
it enabled him to leave what he had to in order to come here to defend this Caern
it enables him to plant one hindpaw infront of the other and crest the steps towards the libraryit's faith
in himself, in Gaia, in his beliefs, in his reason for existance - perhaps even his death
a massive hand reaches out, knuckles brushing against Faith's shoulder
a glance of affirmation (appreciation?) at LeRoy's acting sheild
and still, the raggedy Gnawer pushes on
(nelly)
Those clear as ice eyes raised as she looked to the towering figure of Decker... but clear thoughts there were not. Just her heart tearing to peices, that rage welling inside her stomach... wanting out. The vines twisted harder around her arms and she winced, looking down... two fingers placing one seed in the crack between floor and doorway. Lips traversed those silent words and with a tip of her finger she gave a part of herself to that tiny embryo of Wyld. A child to rear its head...overnight... a tidalwave of thick barbed vines like that around her the child-seed would become.Faith's wave of pain and hate slapped her to the here and now. She stood, quickly and pushed foward.
(leroy)
Muzzle casted downwards at Drums then forwards again with the insistence of his charge. Shoulders square off, arms sweeping wide in protection of Faith's birth behind him.Though urged forward, his eyes do swallow the sight before him, disgust, angst swell inside him. Yet exteriorly he held vigil his mantling smile of comfort for other's huberious protection.
(caern)
Out was one thing Nelly was not going to get now.The Fenrir does not fully comprehend what she has done, but knows that it was some small attempt to right the wrongs. In the grand scheme of things it may be totally useless. It may not even be remembered. But it was still something, and with the Apocalypse drawing ever closer, everything counted.
Upstairs, then.
On the second-floor hallway there are smears of ichor on the furnishings. Like a mundane hallway, a battle in it left marks on the walls and floor. Unlike mundane hallways, the damage manifested not as ripped panels and torn carpeting, but as patches where the solidity of the very spirit-material wavered and thinned. In places details faded to a grey blur. In others, they could almost see through the walls.
The doors to the library are blasted asunder. The rest of the seven guardians are here, all irrevocably dead, all still clutching the weapons they had borne while still flesh and blood. In the umbra the library was once crammed not with books but with spirit-tomes; sheaves of knowledge, troves of talens, a wealth of Garou history and culture and spirituality. Now the holdings are torn asunder, the writings smeared and illegible, the shelves smashed or simply gone.
The doors to the atrium are strangely warped. The wood of the doors bulges and ripples and drips as though it had run molten somehow like butter in the sun. The frame is distorted as thought some massive fist had gripped it - and twisted.
Of the gathered, only Decker has seen this before, in the basement where he had encountered the banes. It makes the Modi's black lips peel back, and a slow silvery glow spreads to cover his body before, suddenly, a pale blue nimbus-flame erupts around him. The black axe, too, takes on a phosphorescent glow of its own.
"I have seen this before," he growls low to Mark. In Garouspeech, his voice has no accent. "Be ready. There may be many."
He was activating his Gifts and his fetish. Preparing for battle. Yet seemingly oblivious to the growing tension, the Bane Tender strides boldly forward, leaving even the shield of the twin Fostern Ahrouns behind as she headed straight for the doors.
"Daughter of Unicorn, come!"
(mesk)
She stood straight, her thin fingers wiggling lightly as they moved. It was a warm up, something that could get her blood started. Mesk, cast a glance back at Nel. She hated it too...hated what had been done, and at times, she even felt an urge to wrench something up, but she pushed forward, determined, anxious to help. Gaia knew it may be her last time to help here...last time to give whats he could. Not because of death (though death was a great possibility in all things), but soon she'd leave, and had she left earleir, they'd be one garou short..and sometimes one, or two garou made a hell of a difference.She turned her attention back ahead of her, her lips curling lgihtly to reveal her own fangs, and then slowly she let them drop. She jsut wanted it all over with.
(faith)
Faith clenches her jaw as she takes in the state of the hallway; she's given little time for thought, however, before the Tender pushes forward confidently.
She only wished she shared that confidence.
Summoning her courage, Faith goes to join the Bane Tender with as much an appearance of strength as she could conjure.
Though the twelve feet of werewolf acting as her shield helped, a little.(leroy)
Ironic, but despite his show of support, his eyes betrayed his inward thoughts and muse of distrust. Caution screamed to him, yet this one recklessly bounded forth, and with such mirth. Rank or not, he trusted all but she at this moment. Yet with Faith's urgence he made his step in stride before her in protection.(mark)
The words of the Modi buzzed in his ears along with his own instincts, his hackles raising, "Wait, Faith," that deep smoky bass resonated even further and more resounding in this War-form, he raised one lightning arcing hand, "All of us together, this looks like a fight," He couldn't exactly stop the bane tender from running along foolishly, but he could stop her from dragging his theurge without the protection of the fellow wolves.No sooner did the say the words, did the move forward with Decker, passing Faith, and snorting his nostrils wide, looking for signs of enemies.
Fur seemed to raise, then shift becoming monochrome.. metallic.. Steel. The Knight was now doubly armored.
(james)
lupine chin drops in a nod at Decker's growl
right side of the bone structure smooth and perfect in profile
left side broken by a series of misformed ridges that climb into the thick fur over wide cheeks
it all forms a strange culmination of features ending in velvet ears that radar and pin in distaste
(he remembers what fragments the Modi showed him of the basement)he doesn't have the benefit of LeRoy's seriously massive form to act as a sheild
he'll take what he can get off the Tender's boldness
handpaws rolling to fists (knuckles crackling) before held at his sides in ready
.....onwards, it seems
(another Theurge trait: impulse control problems?)senses sharpen to high alert
he won't let the elder (spooky) Garou get out of his sight
even if he doesn't particularly approve of her rushing off
last thing he'll get nailed for is abandoning his charge
watching for what will go after the Tender or Unicorn's Daughter after they enter the room(nelly)
She gave a reassuring smile to Mesk with her glance back. Then those iced eyes swivled to the room... her mind raced to piece together what was before her. Didn't want to comprehend, couldn't; a murderous sceen, everything distorted, dead. Her brain struggled to grasp the reality of it all like a child catching bubbles. It was the library that brought it all crashing down... and she drew a fast harsh breath as her mind split. Knowledge was here, and now was no more. Heart raced, she began to get frantic... and searched for a face to regain herself with. It was the hulking form of the scarred Fenrir her eyes tightened upon, steeling her nerves into another form.... the only tangible thing she could muster.... lust.With Deker's silver firelife she stepped away from him, pressed herself against a wall to keep the vines from reaching him.
(kemp)
He didn't even have anything to remotely compare with what he was seeing here. Maybe a twisted dose of Aliens in a way. Though this was real even with the ghostly, flimy look to it. Nostrils flaring. His grip on the rebar sticks so tight knuckles were popping. Trying to look every which way at once and keep with the group cause the last thing he wanted was to miss something and find himself lost here.
(caern)
(later!) But the Bane Tender does not wait. She goes straight forward, and with some effort, throws open the doors.The sight beyond makes their hairs stand on end.
The Tree is bare. Its leaves have scattered and rotted at its base. Its trunk is scarred and weeping sap; its branches drooping from an invisible weight. Some half-dozen twisted ... creatures sit amongst the branches, some with necks as long and supple as serpents; some without eyes; some that were nothing close to human, only amorphous lumps of translucent jelly. When the Bane Tender strides forward, their attention turns on her.
The Garou can feel their hunger, black as lust.
In the few instants they have before all hell breaks loose, they can see, also, that the entire Tree teeters at the edge of a fissure in the earth. No; not a fissure in the earth. A black crack surrounded by swirling chaos where reality itself breaks down; a black hole of the Wyrm itself.
Besides the Tender, Erik is the only one with sufficient knowledge to recognize it. A breath hisses out from the Rotagar. "A Wyrmhole," he snarls, bristling. "She wants us to bind a Wyrmhole."
His tone is not optimistic. But they have little time for anything else - the banes slip and tumble and leap from the branches, eagerly racing toward the Bane Tender boldly coming into their midst.
(mark)
My Alpha's an expert on the wyrm the Modi said.Massive steel-encased wolf-maw turns sharply to Erik, deep bass in short barks of Garou-tongue, even as he moves forward at a frantic lope to cover the distance between he and the Bane Tender, "Quickly! Can it be done!??" Yes, or No, he was leading the group forward. Fight or bind.
And he'd had no idea it was this bad. This was supposed to be a prison, not a gaping hole to the world-eater.
(leroy)
He wasn't two steps within before he quickly hunched down, arms wide talons unsheathed and ready for use. Shield? Yes he was even still. Hunching he was about even with the tallest of them. Mass? He was still the meatest of all. But he had arms, teeth and claw to bite back with should they come with attempts to pound upon his charge 'Faith'.Rage...the smile turning vinegary, present though but lingering. Now it morphed into the delight that only another Ahroun would recognize. Finally! Enemy exposed! Something to swing, claw, bite and destroy. It was that urge however that he fought to ignore. To leap with a howl of fury headlong into battle was his utmost desire before his concern. Yet he refrained, still controlled, reigning it back, his disgust his longing to clense the field of battle with wyrm gore. He was Faith's shield. Pain of death for any who dare raise their arm against her he swore. Growling in Garou Speech... "prepare. Vigilant be your eyes shaman, for mine are forefront where I may thrash these minions of the wyrm" Unconsciously stepping backwards, allowing her another attempt to reign her hold upon his torso' pelt in defense.
(faith)
The Tender is the elder Theurge here, and their best shot at salvaging what they can - Faith will do what she can to help her. But Alpha overrides. Always.
Faith comes to a stop to look over her shoulder when Mark bids her to, and waits for him to catch up and get everything in position how he wants it.
She seems calm and keeping it together, but inwardly she's almost too angry to think.
Anger gives way to loss - and almost panic - when the doors open and the despair beyond is revealed.
"Holy shit.." No sooner are the words past her lips than the Tender is in peril.
She wants me to do WHAT, now? Bloody fuck, she wasn't trained for this, hell, she didn't even know the first place to START with this...
Irrelevant.
She was here now, and she just had to trust those around her, and her own instincts.
Not a reassuring thought. Her instincts hadn't exactly gotten her far.. no, no time for that, certainly not now.
Faith holds on to LeRoy, suddenly jerking her gaze all around - looking for something to help, something coming from behind, just.. anything.
Dammit, what's she supposed to do?(james)
A Wyrmhole
A Wyrm. Hole
...... peachy.
in another day and time, the Ahroun would probably be floored by what he sees
if he gave himself enough time to think about it
right now he's concentrating on those Banes rushing for the Tender
making sure she has enough time to answer the Glass Walker
deep eyes blazing with a Full Moon's righteous fury
[Staredown](caern)
Without a word the grey Modi is dropping to three legs, the fourth handpaw gripping the axe, keeping it parallel to the ground as he races across the distance. Fuckin' idiot bitch's gonna git herself killed! fumes the totemphone.Six banes tumbling off the dying Tree; one stopped dead in its tracks by James' stare. Almost simultaneously, Erik's blazing blue eyes fall on Mark. The scarred face was wolven now, Crinos. He snaps at the empty air in agitation - "I don't know." The blunt truth. "But as long as it's free and unfettered, it'll channel Banes straight from Malfeas. Straight here."
And the Tender, somehow miraculously escaping the raking grey claws of the first bane that swiped almost playfully at her flank, calls back over the din: "Daughter of Unicorn! Sons and Daughters of Gaia! To me! Our objective is at hand! Form a circle about the beast!"
"She's [fucking] insane," snarls Erik Blood-Eagle under his breath, leveling the shotgun to his shoulder as the first round goes off and takes the head off the bane even now reaching to do the same to the Tender.
(kemp)
He'd never seen anything like this, all he knew was it was bad and it felt worse to him. Finding himself swept up in the sudden chaos when everything starts moving at once. Those rebar sticks lifting to slash at anything nasty that got within reach. What the hell is that? his own thoughts rushing across the totemphone.(faith)
She doesn't know why - but she trusts the Tender to be directing them in the best way they could be led right now. This seems insane.
But she believes it's worth trying. Leaps of faith.
"Come on!" She shouts from behind LeRoy, tugging him with her to move beside the Bane Tender.
Whatever strength is in me, she prayed silently, let it make a difference now.
It's all she knows to hope for.(*mark)
The answer was heard on the run. The hole spawned these manifestations, and if not capped? Would simply spawn more."Cut our way to the pit," his deep bass called out gratingly above the hellish sounds made by the sickening creatures before him, "Slaughter every one of 'em that gets in your way. Let's put a cork in this hole," The last was punctuated by the angry blue *shrakt* of his claws descending on the first bane in his path, attempting to eat up the distance and surround the Bane Tender with those travelling alongside he, "And for fuck's sake stay together," Which didn't need said. The wyld creatures.. from Urrah, to purebred, to spiritual, to keen-edged Rage would draw together.. back to back, flank to flank, in the face of the unnatural assault on the Mother.
(nelly)
A wyrmhole?! She didn't even see things clearly with the crinosed allies forming thru the doorway. She stepped away from the wall, her eyes peering thru the masses... seeing the terror.She saw the familiar hunching form of LeRoy... instinct taking over. Her body molding from glabro to crinos. In three, four, five strides she leaps; her hand crashing on Faith's head like a vaulter would upon a pole as her hind haunches springboard off of LeRoy's massive shoulders... vaulting herself up to a bane upon a highest branch, howling a war anthem "DIE!"
(mesk)
~Meskhenet's eyes glazed over with the sight of what she had known was to come. Her cool exterior shook for the first time... a shutter as tiny as a cold wind blowing upon her skin. She looked towards the Tender and hoped the woman could do the impossible. Carefully, she began to stalk wide, making her way to the other side of the tree in a slow circle... Eyes widen, attentive to the banes and attacks comming theire way~(caern)
The edges of the Wyrmhole begin to waver. Like the translucent rubbery skin of an intestinal parasite it rolls and bloats, ripples and undulates. The mouth of the hole actually rises and falls like a living thing, convulsing above and below the level of the surrounding terrain. At its core, which is not black, nor grey, nor any color anyone has ever seen before but simply - empty - there begins to dawn a sickly yellow light."It's bringing another one in," grits the Blood-Eagle, popping the spent shell-casings out and levering up another two rounds. Deliberately, without running, the Alpha stalks toward the hole. "It's gonna be a big one. The only way to close one of these is to destroy it. And no, I don't fucking know how."
Nelly's acrobatics carry her over her packmates, over the rest of the Garou, straight into the branches of the Tree. Her weight lands with a crack. At first she might think it was a bone - hers, the bane's? - and then there's no time for thinking.
Her claws rip into the bane. But it doesn't die that easy, spitting back at her with a laugh that sounds like screaming train whistles. Nelly's blood is the first to be drawn, hot and red splashing to the ground below.
And that crack? It's the branch she sits on, giving way now, ready to fall.
(james)
Wyrmhole! shouted into Kemp's mind, even as his physical body forms a bloodthirsty war anthem to reinforce Nelly's THIS is what we are born to prevent!he does not lunge after the halted Bane, still ten feet away
that would pull him too far from the Tender's side
there were enough Garou within the charge
(although the Ahroun's very soul cries for him to rush into battle)
he only sinks his claws into the creatures that come uncomfortably close
making sure it's his blood that is drawn instead of the Theurge'sa quick glance at the belching hole provides one with a very rare sight: something that could even make a Gnawer lose his appetite
(leroy)
Faith's insistence forwards purged him for only the brievity of moments from his desire to smash everything into bits before him, but like Nelly's own habitual instinct, her using his hunched stance she'd seen so many times before as her call to spring, vault and crash down upon a wyrm assault; he too went blind with instinct. Pack.Mark, Faith, Johnny and Frankie were their new pack, but their relationship had not yet been well fostered. Nay, not enough to peel back their age ole tactics of attack when they were of their own pack with members no longer of the living.
His extensive reach swept out archingly, talons brought down upon the nearest bane. No longer was Faith urging him forward nor reigning him from continuing, instinct had taken root for the moment of things. He pulled her with a quick surge of assualt towards the nearest available bane.
(kemp)
"Oh fuck me!" Not much coming from one who normally is not speechless. Here he was rushing towards a big freaking hold with the rest of them. Not much time for thought here.(nelly)
Her eyes like daggers upon the bane... but her claws gave as much as she received... a tear perhaps? Was there blood? She didn't look to see, pause to ponder. Muscles ached from a hard hit upon the branch... and she heard its creaking sound ~Ohhhhh no ya don't! Mah fuckin' tree ya sonofabitch!~ (gs)thru gritted growls she called upon her homid gifts... springing from the crumbling branch... trying to vault herself back up (climb like an ape) towards the bane; its death blood on her mind.(faith)
She let go. Her shield was now a spear diving into their foes. Nelly had charged. Mark was fighting, James was fighting, hell, everyone was fighting...
Faith stared into the maw of the Wyrmhole, and from some reserve of strength she finds the will to speak.
"Just tell me what to do." She says to the Tender, jerking her eyes away from the hole to look to the older Theurge.
Faith didn't even know what she could do here.
(caern)
The Tender stands at the very edge of the hole, so close that her claws touch its convulsing rim. That Faith has been yanked aside does not seem to register on her. That James is desperately trying to keep her from taking the brunt of the damage is lost on her. That the hole is rippling and expanding, contracting and spasming in the grip of birth-throes, is likewise ignored.She reaches deep into herself for her Gnosis as she begins the Rite of Bane Binding. "Join your spirit to me," she murmurs to Faith. "Give me your Gnosis."
LeRoy and James take down one bane each. Mark and Decker have formed up on the other side of the Bane Tender, back to the Uktena, lightning claw and axe flashing in almost perfect synchrony to lay waste to their enemies. But they, with their years of experience, know that these banes are just small fry.
They know, also, that worse was on its way.
Nelly springs off the branch just in time. Below her, the branch free-falls slowly, acceleratingly, into the mouth of the Wyrmhole. The hole was dully glowing now, the glow stronger by the second. As the branch touches the level of the hole it seems to disappear as though sinking into viscous fluid - inch by inch.
The glow, some might notice, dims ever so briefly as the branch is completely swallowed.
(mark)
The position of every one of his packmates is noted through the periphery of his thoughts and emotions, like very extensions of his being. It's the one in pain, that distracts him.Nelly!! get back with us. Stand together, and over that bond of Black Unicorn, he relinquished the hold of Knight's Armor, giving it to the one who needed it more, trusting to his own plates of steel.. You have the charm, stand ready to give to the next who needs it, ((+3 soak to Nelly ))
His howl resounded off the interior of the walls, just after the grim words of Erik. They were gambling on this insane Adren, hoping she retained whatever it was that got her her rank.. hoping that it could, in fact, be capped.
His huge form always seemed a step ahead of attackers, despite his great size ((Spirit of the Fray)), claws slashed trailing angry blue flashfire. Getting them to that pit.. to meet whatever.. was coming out.. hoping the Bane Tender was not a grim hope, and then he stood, resolutely meeting the charge of the banes, protecting said hope.
(nelly)
~Mesk held back, talons drawn as paused in her path. Her eyes stared into the great abyss... the yellow light forming. IT was there, she would give anything to be wrong but here it was. Stomach churning with the enevitable site.. she braced herself for Hell to rear its ugly head~(faith)
The short sputter of light from the hole is barely registered by the perceptive Theurge, even in her flustered state. A maddening thought flitters through her mind.
What if one of us fell in there? A sacrifice to drive away the Wyrm; the stories of Garou is rife with it, and Faith had seen it needed before. So had Mark.
But the Tender tells her what she can do, and Faith turns her mind away from such dark thoughts. She reaches over to place one clawed hand gently on the Tender's arm, and closes her eyes.
Having faith her pack - no, every Garou in this room - would see that she is kept safe. Having faith the Bane Tender can help them. She finds her focus, and, for a moment, forgets the battle.
She remembers Gaia, and Black Unicorn. She remembers how it feels to, even for a moment, come in touch with the part of them that fully realizes what it is to be Garou.
And she pulls that feeling out of her spirit and gives the Tender everything she has to give.(nelly)
One branch held by a taloned grip, the ethral vines around her skin seeming to lash out in chaotic patterns. She had that victim in her sites... a few more branches up perhaps?But that familiar tug came. Mark's words. Skin pulled back from her muzzle, bearing teeth in a snarle at the bane above her. She didn't quite look straight down then... but the yellow light was basking its glow all around. Something was happening down there. Pulling herself upon the branch, her weight bending it harshly. She pushed with all fours from the tree, her eyes making for the back of a bane if it was upon the 'ground' around the others. She'd settle for that, or a nice peice of solid 'ground' instead of the yellow hell hole.
(leroy)
"Arrroooooouughh!!" He bellowed with maw sung high to some invisible heavenly Gaian sky. It was euphoric to the Ahroun to be once more amongst the chaos found only in the pitch of battle. Yet the link provided by his totem to his 'alpha' jerked his howl of battle hyme in midstride. Swiping at another assialant as he pounced back towards Faith's flank to offer protection. It was then that he noticed she was no longer with him. Fear and trebidation almost consumed him instantly till his eyes counted her once more among the walking and still living.His shadow loomed over Faith as his arms swung, teeth snapped and feet kicked out against the small but growing onslaught of banes.
(caern)
For Faith, a certain peace comes. In the darkness of her mind's eye, her safety given over to her packmates and septmates [my trust unto you. my life unto you.], there is nothing left but the glowing embers of her own spiritual faith. Hers, and the older woman's, who has seen so many other battles, bound so many other banes.She could not fail.
(Could she?)And then the gestation is over. The pregnancy complete. And then the Wyrmhole gives foul birth, a great gout of ichor and a new flock of minor banes playing herald for the scrabbling, scratching arrival of whatever monster it had dredged up from the depths of Malfeas.
Two flailing insectoid legs tipped in claws are the first of the behemoth to appear. Then three, then four; then eight; then too many to count. A great curved carapace begins to rise above level of the ground. It's the back of the beast, smooth save for a single cresting ridge down the center.
(kemp)
"What the fuck?!" He could very well be losing it. Never had he imaigned in his worse nightmares anything like a fraction of this. Talk about cutting your teeth in battle. How about the end of the world as your first real battle? All he could do was hack and slash at anything that got too close cause he sure as hell didn't want it touching him cause like the saying goes, never know where these fuckers have been before this.(james)
it's euphoric for the Ahrouns to be within the heart of the battle
just as it's euphoric to hear the voices of his comrades raising in war-waged song
James doesn't leave his stance of mission
joining LeRoy to guard the two Theurgestheir packs may have been at odds in the subterranean meeting
there may be mistrust between them for the accusations slung between Ahrouns
but now? now there is no such travesties to separate their efforts
the raggedy Bone Gnawer and giant Child of Gaia fight as a teamwhile James does everything to ignore that itchy feeling at the base of his spine from what crawls out of the hole
(don't look back, Jamey-boy, something may be gaining on you....)
...... this isn't gonna be good(+2 DAMAGE)
(leroy)
No, LeRoy did not feel the taint rippling up behind him in the face of the Tender and Faith trying to bind it.Interest and attention, with mirthful joyous expression almost as invigorating if not so as a battled furied Get of Fenrir did he swipe, gnawl, rip tear and thrash the minor spawn rushing towards him and his new battle hardened comrade James.
"There" GS~ He pointed as one bane lept for James blind spot while he himself went gurgling down upon biting the one that managed to sneak in and cut him deep.
(nelly)
She landed with a harsh thud... upon the edge of the wyrmhole. Roaring out from the pains, her head lifted high, muzzle towards the moon as if to bay. And thats about when her back haunches gave out as the movement of something huge began to rise from hell. Talong dug into the solid 'ground', scrambling as she began to get sucked back into the whole.... "DIEeeeeoooohhhhshiiittt....Assistance!" Front claws scrambling to heav herself out.(mark)
Gaia.. was the slow stunned thought, before the Ahroun's mind snapped into warmode as he literally feels the encroachment from behind him in the pit. Scrabbling claws that had previously fallen flat against the protective steel fur of his tribal Gift, dig deeper rending flesh and sinew on the small of his back, just as he fights hard to the creatures in front.His howl becomes one of painful anger, as he falters, hampered somewhat by the frayed muscle, and the pain of his woulds. Channeling his will, he called upon a Gift given to him from the Father Spirit of Washington D.C. That stalwart soldier still fighting.. despite the painful encroachment of the wyrm. ((Resist Pain )) So bolstered, he simply ignored the pain, and the hampering of his movements became nil, after the momentary ebb.
Blue arcs again flash angrily, into bloody ichor, as he considers the new 'player' on the scene.
"Don't give it a chance!" he called to those nearest, "Cut into it," Next his eyes fall on Nelly, ascertaining who was closest to her plight..
(james)
(There)
the Garou Speech chugs across gurgling ichor
dreads whirl as James' head snaps to the side
deep grunt all that speaks his acknowledgement of the warning
(they can share beers over brotherhood in arms later)
long fingers splaying into a deadly spider of diamond hard talons
slashing to backhand the offending bane to shredssomewhere, within the deafening chaos
there's a sinister smirk that winds its way lopsided
crossing over the black skin beneath velvet muzzlefur
(you've been spending too much time around those Get, Jamey-boy)
but he doesn't have time to enjoy whatever pleasure rises
talons shooting past the bane and giving it a chunk out of his side
momentum taking the Crinos down to land on the ones heading at LeRoy's kneesthat gives him a good view of what's beginning to crawl out of the hole behind them
Use the blades! suggested less than politely into the young Rotagar's head
best to keep him moving else get frozen in what may further belch out of the earth
all the while the Ahroun trying to get back to his feet and return to his place fighting at LeRoy's back(caern)
The Garou almost one and all have their backs to the Wyrmhole. While this sounds unwise, it is in fact their only real choice at the moment. The banes coming off the tree are their greatest threat - at the moment, at least - and to put the Tender in the protection of their circle, they must face outwards.The smaller banes from the Wyrmhole dart and snipe, tear and claw, the damage more annoying than hurtful. But it's impossible to get them all, and they interfere with the Garous' attacks. While a single good claw swipe destroys one and scatters three more, there seems to be a neverending stream of them as others return to take their comrades' places.
For Faith, the choice is tough, but she makes it. She can only pray now that she does not later regret it. She can barely reach her packmate's hand - once and again she tries, and misses.
The third time, the Undergrowth gaffling suddenly surges its tendrils into the earth and yanks. Nelly shoots out a foot or more - enough - and Faith's hand clamps around her wrist. She has Nelly.
But the Tender cries out behind them, her concentration broken as her eyes, too, snap open. She whirls around to see the behemoth...
Meanwhile, whatever attacks the warrior Garou launch upon the rising behemoth fall by the wayside. At most their best attempts only scratch the behemoth's arching shell, do not even begin to penetrate. Slow and steady, even majestic, it looms out of the semiliquid nothingness of the Wyrmhole like some prehistoric island rising out of a black acid ocean.
Then its face lifts into existence, incongruously rubbery and boneless when the rest of it was hard as steel. Droops of flesh dangle like wattles, quivering and jerking as it fixed its baleful gaze (one single eye: RED.) on those it faced.
The shelled creature shrieks like metal on metal, fingernails on chalkboard, bone on exposed and living bone. A shockwave ripples out and everyone, no exceptions, falls to the ground, stunned, deaf, dazed.
What distance Faith managed to pull Nelly out is lost again. Nelly slips another dangerous foot closer to the mouth of the Wyrmhole. Her back foot disappears into it, instantly going numb.
(kemp)
One moment he's hearing James in his head telling him to use the blades, which he was pretty sure he was swinging and jabbing with, then he was on his back, dazed and wondering why it got so quiet. Not even hearing his own groan of confusion.(leroy)
Slash, rip, swipe to his right. A mirthful grin suddenly appeared at his wyrmished fouled ichor jaws the moment he saw James' protecting his knees and shins. Amazing how he forgets sometimes his vantage points for the enemy to utilize. But up high, outstretched and wide did he keep most, not all, but most from breaching his wrathful swipe. Some banes just wriggled past, or found their way through the fray. The others can handle them, he thought. He'd and James could do this all day. Again his mind began to think in the way of hope. Unbeknownst of the interloper of massive threat rising behind him.Brought to the ground, instead of concern it is an animalistic chuckle that errupts. "I guess you missed one huh?" ~GS~ he jested, believing James missed a swipe at his knees by an interloping bane.
(mark)
Posted by james at January 09, 2004 12:00 AM
One moment there was the harsh chaotic din of battle. Howls in the air, the spray of ichor sounding after the terrible blue rending of his claws. Then he h
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