Actual Philodox Moot

3/23/2007

05:03 PM
Logfile from GarouMUSH.

Currently the moon is in the waxing Crescent Moon phase (33% full).
It is currently 17:02 Pacific Time on Fri Mar 23 2007.
Currently in Saint Claire, it is raining. The temperature is 51 degrees Fahrenheit (10 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in from the southwest at 10 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 30.01 and falling, and the relative humidity is 86 percent. The dewpoint is 47 degrees Fahrenheit (8 degrees Celsius.)

Shore Around Half Moon Pool
The shadowy canopy of evergreens recedes here, opening into a small clearing. The grass underfoot is a vibrant young green, luxurient and seemingly soft to the touch; small flowers, some purple and others blue or yellow, add to the spread of color. Immediately to the east, the ground rises into a small, rocky outcropping, at the base of which stands a large pool of crystal clear water; the barest rivulet of a stream wends its way south and west from the pool across the clearing, losing itself in the forest. This whole area has about it a sense of peace and silence; the air is cool and fresh, the scent of the flowers pleasant, the colors of the forest in seemingly perfect balance. Anything not pristine or natural seems almost a world away to you here.
The half-moon shaped pool lies just to the east. A faint trail seems to follow the little stream southwest into the forest.
Contents:
Fred
Khem
Blackriver
Leslie
Trips-Over-Paws
Obvious exits:
Forest  Half Moon Pool  

Trips-Over-Paws shifts from the warform to Lupus, the better to greet to greet Blackriver and Fred with the appropriate Lupine rituals of sniffing. She holds herself and her tail low but without seeming skitterish or nervous. Her approach to Leslie is more cautious, unfamiliar as she is with the Fury.

Khem nods to the cub and then looks over at Fred, a curious moment of him peering intently at the new arrival, trying to figure out who he is, "I suppose introductions are in order." Then apparently noticing the few lupine forms, takes on hispo himself, better to speak the Mother's Tongue. ~For those who do not recognize me, I am Brightside. Philodox of the Striders. Joined in both, the successful Great Hunt and the Revels against the Wyrm with your Warriors during the short time I've been here.~

Fred tilts his head to one side and sets down his package, before emitting a nervous yawn.

Far-Cry arrives a touch late. The black wolf gives his silent looks that double as greetings, sniffing the air once he's settled and shifting himself to that of the dire wolf, hispo for. A notably fresh scent of blood, ash and myrrh mixes with him.

Brightside has dropped that newspaper page he was holding when he shifted, it now rests at his side.

Blackriver shifts up into hispo and licks her chops and whiskers, looking for a spot to sit that isn't covered by a tarp or blanket. Finding one, she settles back on her haunches, sniffing at Far-Cry in curiosity when he arrives. ~Blackriver.~ She introduces herself, ~Cliath half-moon of the First Tribe. Alpha of Wildfire under Wyvern and Master of Challenges. Pup of Fireclaws, pup of Seeks-Raven.~

Seeing that a number of people have gathered, and that most of them are choosing non-homid forms, Leslie sighs and gathers herself up, shifting into the warform for now. ~A pleasure to meet you, Brightside. Treeclimber, Philodox of the Black Furies and child of Wyvern with my pack Wildfire. I am glad to see so many here tonight.~ She looks sharply over at Blackriver as she announces herself Master of Challenges. ~Your challenge succeeded? Congratulations!~

She settles her furry self down onto one of the blankets -- although she curls up, she easily takes one by herself.

Fred chews at his chest for a moment, then shifts into Hispo. ~Fred of the Bone Gnawers. Cliath and Philodox.~

Trips-Over-Paws keeps up her rough circuit of those arriving, learning new scents and renewing her acquaintance with those she already knows. Far-Cry is greeted with a crouching stance and a wagging tail, as pupil to teacher. When she's finally done, she picks a spot not far from Blackriver, half-on and half-off one of the blankets. Listening carefully to each who speaks as she waits her turn, she then shifts back to the warform and introduces herself. ~I am Trips-Over-Paws, Half-Moon pup of the Children of Gaia.~

Brightside looks around at those gathered and snorts, ~Well... Who's running this show?~

Blackriver's mouth opens in a bit of a grin when Leslie congratulates her, and she shifts her weight around a little until she's more comfortable, looking to her packmate to start.

~Far-Cry, cliath halfmoon of the Shadow Lords,~ the blackfurred hispo rumbles by way of introduction. Blackriver's sniff of curiosity is met with a neutral stare and a flick of his ear. ~Rune-Scar was teaching me a rite,~ is his explanation, before turning back to regard the others. The Coggie cub gets a glance to acknowledge her, and then he falls quiet again.

~I am.~ Calm, crisp, and decisive, that's the Fury as she speaks up again. ~I asked for a Moot, first because it has been a long time since we met, and there are new faces among us, and second because this Sept has a very serious problem. I'm sure some of you have noticed it.~
After a few moments, she shifts back down to homid, obviously a more comfortable form for her. "Can everyone understand me?" She looks around the gathering questioningly. "Some of the concepts I need to express are best expressed in this tongue."

Fred lays down and rests his head on his paws. ~I can.~

Trips-Over-Paws nods slightly at Treeclimber's first statement. Her muzzle wrinkles as the Fury continues speaking, the tips of her canines flashing whitely between her lips. Her gaze remains lowered, however, avoiding the suggestion of challenge. ~I can,~ she admits.

Brightside glances over at Blackriver, who refered to herself as someone's 'pup', ~We have lupus born here.~ Is all he says on the matter.

Blackriver seems to understand what Leslie is saying, indicating agreement with the Fury's earlier statements.

Far-Cry makes no other comment on the matter save to note, ~Not all the halfmoons of the sept are gathered here tonight.~

"As she's my pack alpha, I'm well aware of that," Leslie replies pleasantly, though her expression becomes reserved and cool. "She's capable of speaking for herself, and I assure you that should she become unable to understand me, she'll let me know." The glance the Fury sends in the Silver Fang's direction is warm and deeply affectionate as well as respectful. "As for not everyone being here, they were all told. If they choose not to show up, that is their business." More like problem, from her cool and dismissive tone.

Drawing a deep breath, Leslie goes on. "You all probably know about the Satire Rite that happened at Moot last." All trace of smile is gone. "I have done some digging and I found out what happened. It's not pretty, and it amounts to politicking between the Alpha and the Silver Fang elder. I've asked the Alpha not to perform punishment Rites for anyone again without speaking to a half-moon first. I don't know if she'll do it, but I have to accept that for now."

First the Strider gracefully nods and chuffs at Leslie's explaination. Then, it is obvious that Brightside, on this topic, is not a happy camper. ~I watched the ritual, from a small distance. Besides whatever ill and poor intent was behind it... the ritual itself was not even well performed.~

Trips-Over-Paws gives a tiny growl. ~The one it was performed on did not even properly understand what the problem was.~

Blackriver's ears flatten. ~It is a rite meant to be done by moon dancers and half-moons, not a Ragabash. Did Culls-the-Herd even ask a half-moon if they had the rite?~

"No, he didn't." Leslie nods to the lupus cub, settling into a calm and quiet reserve. "He was assured by his elder that if he accepted the Rite, all would be well. Thus, he never thought to seek a Philodox, to explain his side or make himself heard. I have questioned all three of them under Truth of Gaia, and I learned the entire sordid affair. Cedric decided that Falcon wanted Mathias in the Sept, for some unknown purpose. Therefore, he cut a deal with Culls-the-Herd, who said that the only way she'd accept him into the Sept was as a cub, and told Mathias to simply accept the deal and all would be fine, that he'd be re-Rited quickly. He even agreed withh Vera that if Mathias was not re-Rited as a Silver Fang within a certain period of time, his Klaive would be hers."
Leslie shrugs eloquently, "I do not know what possessed him to do that, but this much is clear -- not one of the three came to us, to seek another alternative, to seek justice, to make their cases heard. And that is why I called the Moot -- why is that?"

Trips-Over-Paws's ears perk forwards, nose twitching in anticipation of answers.

Brightside considers Leslie's words and shakes his head. ~The now-cub, though many stories of his inadequacy abound, was duped by someone he trusted, that much is sure. As for the Silver Fang and the Alpha, the dealing of klaives exchanging hands is enough incentive for the Alpha to wish that the deal remained in her favor... excluding those who might see to it to alter such a deal with their presence.~

Blackriver stands up and shifts her weight around on her paws, too tense to just sit. ~Before he made his... deal, Lightning came to me and said that the one once called Promises-Kept was in the scab. He said Falcon wanted him there, and that I should go, to see if the anruth could be brought back to the sept. So I went.~ There's a slight pause. ~I trusted Lightning to know what Falcon wanted, I could not go against the will of my totem. So I told him and the anruth that if the anruth did five things to prove that he was capable of acting like a Silver Fang, and working with other Garou, we would speak to the alpha of resetting him chimminage. He did not do these things. So I went to tell Lightning this. He must leave now, I told him. But Lightning didn't listen. He said he'd spoken to Culls-the-Herd, and found another way to bring the anruth into the sept. I was angry. I challenged him over this, and I lost.~ She pauses, looking around at those gathered. ~I thought it was something within our tribe. I didn't know that a rite was to be performed. But I should have found these things out from him, yes.~ The Fang looks somewhat apologetic.

Leslie nods as she listens, though she unfocuses briefly, as if paying attention to something else as well. "I think it is good that all of us be aware of such things for now." She nods to Brightside. "An angle I had not considered, and a good one. However, it is also true that this Sept was for a long time without Philodoxes to sort out the ways and help people understand. They got used to ignoring the Laws and Traditions, and used to doing without half-moons. Some still don't want to deal with the half-moons. I think we all need to make ourselves visible and accessible, remind people that we are around, and make sure to hear everyone out and get all sides before passing judgement on anyone."

~Even if it was not well performed, Falcon did come and strip him of what Honor he had left,~ Far-Cry speaks up. ~Whatever she did, it worked well enough. And as he was Anruth, there was no saying whether a philodox of the sept would hear out his problems.~ But he does growl lowly. ~Being one of those philodoxes trained in this sept... I can say it has been Difficult to understand the real traditions versus what I was taught.~

~I have been thinking about what happened,~ Trips-Over-Paws speaks up. ~I have been thinking that half-moons should be there before things need judging. They should speak before the problem becomes a punishment. I need to think about it more. But I would like to learn what other half-moons think.~

Blackriver sits back down, tail curling around her forepaws. ~We are not just punishment-givers, we are mediators. But in a problem like this, if a Garou does not come to ask us for help, we cannot give it. Before the rite it was a problem between two Garou and the alpha. After the punishment rite became part of it, then it became a problem of a sept and something we could speak on. If we had known.~

"None of us except Blackriver knew about the situation at all until the Rite was performed," Leslie explains to Trips-Over-Paws gently, nodding to Blackriver in agreement. "Stepping in by force uninvited would only earn the ire of all parties involved in the dispute -- if we are to be effective and impartial as judges, we must be asked to arbitrate before we can step in. Also, a lot of tribes prefer to keep their business within the tribe, and they'll do without a Philodox before revealing sordid affairs to those outside the tribe." Here, she glances again at her packmate, this time significantly. "What do we do then?"

Brightside considers the words all spoken and shakes his ponderous head, ~The half-moon is there to be the balance. A touch of the Theurge's wisdom and spirit, a touch of the Galliard's understanding of what is /behind/ a story... a touch of the Ahroun's desire for truth, spoken with passion and honor. And a touch of the Ragabash's need to get at the heart of corruption. All that together, we are Philodox. And we have our role that is beyond that as well. We are the bearers of the Litany. The ones who remind the other auspices of Gaia's laws. Speak then, on that which we hold dear. That is where we will be listened to before our words are heard anywhere else... on those tenets alone do we truely hold power.~ He peers at those gathered and offers, ~How did this situation violate then, the litany? If it did not, I suggest we move on to matters that did and come back to this individually on more personal time.~

Blackriver's ears twitch. ~We must trust the elders of the tribes to have the honor and wisdom to know when to come forward to the half-moons. Sometimes they do not, yes, I know this happened with the Shadow Lords once, one was eating humans and the elder tried to keep it within the tribe.~ Here her gaze wanders over to Far-Cry. ~But this is the best we can do.~ She looks over to Brightside. ~The tribeless one did many things that violated the litany, that is why he was an anruth. And this effects us, as half-moons, because we should have done our job there, and we did not, and we must discover why.~

Fred fails to offer much in the way of commentary, listening and munching on the dried strips of meat from his bag.

Far-Cry flattens his ears back at the mention of the past. But to his credit, it is only his stare that intensifies. ~What tenets did he violate?~ asks the Shadow Lord after a pause to smooth down involuntarily raised hackles.

Trips-Over-Paws's head turns as she watches the discussions, ears canted slightly to be sure not to miss any comments. From her body-language it seems to be Brightside who gives her the most pause for thought, but she ignores nobody.

"There are other things happening that touch on the Litany, yes," Leslie answers Brightside thoughtfully. "But if none will come forward to us, then we can do little even about the Litany. There was something odd in the Kent Crossing paper today, but I don't know whether the wolf was rabid or whether the Veil was involved." She falls slient, then, turning her head to watch Blackriver and Far-Cry intently.

Brightside takes on the homid form now, unfolds the newspaper page he brought with him and sets it down on the ground. Here he stands again and waves to the gathered. With a glance to Leslie he offers, "On that note... I leave you with this. It was a pleasure spending some time at the Hidden Walk, I assure you... the road, however, does call. I wish you all great luck in your endevors to bring respect back to the Half-Moon's calling here. Good night."

Blackriver's gaze wanders back to Far-Cry. ~He failed to respect the Get's territory. There were many, many times he didn't respect those of higher station. Finally, by staying in our protectorate when he was not welcome here, he was violating the sept's territory.~ The news about the potential veil breach causes the lupus to perk, and she looks in Leslie's direction. ~Was this near our territory?~ She asks. She gives Khem an indication of recognition as he announces his intent to leave, although it's clear she didn't quite understand all that the Strider said.

Trips-Over-Paws says nothing, but she listens and, from her expression, she thinks very hard indeed. Her attention switches sharply back to Brightside as he speaks, taking in the finality of the Strider's words. She remains silent for several moments before finding her voice to wish him ~Good Hunting.~

Leslie looks up at Brightside's leavetaking as well, and nods. "Your wisdom is always welcome here." The words and tone are formal, and she frowns at the newspaper briefly before nodding. "Yes, this is it. It's not very far, Blackriver, but it's not immediately on it." Setting the paper aside, she looks up. "The Sept needs to be made aware that we are here, and that we don't bite. Mathias told me I was the first Philodox to actually ask him for his side of the story."

Khem gives a grin now to the cub, a reassuring nod offered as well. Then to Leslie he says, "Thank you. Perhaps I'll come around these parts again." With that he turns and is gone from the lives of those at the Hidden Walk.

Blackriver lets out a snort. ~The tribeless one whines and complains that no one understood him whenever her is told he did something wrong.~ The Fang stands up and shakes herself off. ~But it is true, we must be seen more. Few of us are in packs. Rarely do I hear of things one of us has done, whether a fight or a judgement. None of us are above Cliath rank, and some of us hold no renown at this sept. We cannot ask to be respected, without acting as though we deserve the respect. We must /do/ things.~

Trips-Over-Paws's head dips in Blackriver's direction. ~Half moons should have a loud howl,~ she agrees. ~But I think the howl must not be empty words that mean nothing to those who hear them.~ The cub speaks carefully and a little shyly, as if tentatively aswering a question rather than stating a fact.

Leslie's become more and more meditative in aspect as she listens to all that is said. "That goes for all of us," she nods to Blackriver. "If we are seen and heard, we will be remembered."

Fred yawns and rests his head on his paws. ~So what will we do, to be noticed?~

Blackriver turns her head over to peer at Trips. ~If we do things, the howl will not be empty.~ The tells the cub, as if she just said different. ~We are balancers, law keepers. To keep the balance of the sept we must act as the Litany tells us and as a Garou should, not just tell other Garou to follow the Litany and act good.~

Far-Cry makes his own note, ~If there is strange things happening around the Veil near the Scab, then it would be wise to investigate. As far as the tribeless cub goes, the rite has been performed and the deeds done. We should take it as a lesson, to not allow such things to go so far. Personally, I am surprised the now-cub did not take it upon himself to see if Gaia would give him a second chance with a new life. If he still wishes to state his side to another halfmoon, we make ourselves available for him to seek out - with the permission of whichever elder is his own now.~ He flips his ears forward, looking to Trips. A curious expression flits over his wolven features.

Leslie is silent, listening to the words fly around the circle of discussion, two fingers idly wiggling back and forth. "I think he's planning to talk to Stacey," she observes neutrally. "Right now, he has no tribe. But that might be a good idea. As for what we do," here she looks at Fred, "Go on hunts. Gain Renown. Be noticed as a fighter against the Wyrm and a contributor to the Sept. If people deal with you, when they want a half-moon they will remember you and seek you out."

Trips-Over-Paws's tail, tucked in low, thumps apologetically as she dares contradict the wolf-born Silver Fang. ~Being good does not get people noticed,~ she says. She glances around, returning Far-Cry's expression with a slightly puzzled tilt of her head. ~I also do not see how those things that get noticed will make people remember what a half-moon is for,~ she adds, humbly, after Leslie speaks.

Blackriver lets out a huff, ~Being good /should/ get Garou noticed.~ She grumbles. ~If you do good things, if you serve your sept and your pack and your tribe, that is honor, that is respect, and when Garou respect you they will listen to you more. The better Garou we are the better half-moons we are, and no one will pretend that we are not here, and are not Gaia's lawkeepers.~

Leslie seems content to listen for the moment, looking from face to face, noting who speaks and who is silent.

Fred yawns, tongue curling within his jaws.

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