Judging Blackriver's Challenge

7/3/2007

02:10 PM
Logfile from GarouMUSH.

Currently the moon is in the waning Gibbous Moon phase (77% full).
It is currently 14:07 Pacific Time on Tue Jul 3 2007.
Currently in Saint Claire, it is mostly sunny today. The temperature is 75 degrees Fahrenheit (23 degrees Celsius). The wind is calm today. The barometric pressure reading is 30.21 and falling, and the relative humidity is 47 percent. The dewpoint is 54 degrees Fahrenheit (12 degrees Celsius.)

Ash Grove(#4024RJh)
Within this dark forest dominated by the canopy of the tenacious, light-hungry pines is a place where a stand of ash has established itself and fought off all competition. The ashes allow the rays of sun and moon alike to lance down through limbs which bear nothing more than clusters of rust-coloured keys, such that undergrowth abounds and the forest floor is even clad with a bright green sward of grass. Bright white bits of bone peep through the green, testament to a history of food offerings in this place.
These habitual offerings have accomplished their purpose and, during daytime, a great number of carrion birds roost in the branches of the trees, predominately the large black bodies of crows and ravens. The grove is deserted at night, the birds having left for other sanctuary.
Contents:
Lightning
Blackriver
Obvious exits:
Forest  

Blackriver's tail must be on a motor or something, because it keeps wagging like there's no tomorrow. Okay! Okay! I will go find him! And off she goes, disappearing into the forest.

Lightning waits in ill-disguised impatience, trotting back and forth in the vicinity, sitting down now and again only to hop back up and run around again.

Blackriver trots back after a good long while triumphantly. I found him! She calls out, loping the last stretch to Lightning.

Far-Cry is found lingering, actually, not too incredibly far away from the bawn near the ash grove. With the appearance of the Silver Fang philodox and her requests made of him, the Shadow Lord agrees to meet. Far-Cry trails after the more enthusiastic philodox of the two, he being a black shadow to her white. The Shadow Lord gives the fostern a more deferent chuff of greeting, automatically relaxing his tail behind him and tucking the tip of it a touch.

Lightning gives a triumphant whuff as Blackriver returns with Far-Cry in tow. He canters over to the Shadow Lord and gives him a good, energetic sniffing over with plenty of enthusiasm. The challenger wishes to tell us her tale, he advises Far-Cry.

Blackriver re-sniffs both Lightning and Far-Cry over, pacing an energetic circle around them. Then she stops, stretches, yawns, and shifts up to hispo. ~I talked to Howls-for-Glory after the moot.~ She tells him. ~He gave me his noisekiller. But he was tainted. So Cycle-Breaker had to cleanse him. Then he taught me how to use his noisekiller.~ Her fur bristles at even the memory of both the tainting and the gun, her enthusiasm dissipating some.

Far-Cry stands still, enduring the sniffing over until they've had their fill. To the two Fangs, he simply indicates for one or both to start. Blackriver's opener causes the hackles on his nape to twitch. Tainted? Why?

Lightning shows his teeth at the mention of taint, but lets Far-Cry's question stand for both of them.

Blackriver's tongue comes out and she smoothes back her whiskers. ~When we went into the scab umbra to fight the scrags, Bloods-Bane and Howls-for-Glory took the scrag blades. They said it was part of their tribe tradition. But the blades tainted them. We found them and cleansed them before they went too bad, as a pack.~

Far-Cry snorts at the mention of the scrags, ears flicking with distaste. Go on, Blackriver. After the cleansing, then?

Lightning snorts. If one carries around things of the wyrm long enough, one becomes of the wyrm. Even a cub knows that. Continue, tribemate.

~Howls-for-Glory taught me how to use the noisekiller. Noisekillers are very bad things. I learned how to make it make noise, but it was bad. I didn't want to kill a prey animal with one. But I thought I would try. So I began to hunt. When I started the hunt, I couldn't stop. I tried to hunt small things one wolf can kill, but I couldn't make the noisekiller kill them. So I saw a deer, and tried to kill that. And I killed it.~ The lupus makes a disgusted sound, and lets out a low snarl. ~That was very bad. This is why apes shouldn't have noisekillers. They can hunt thing alone they should not hunt. It's not part of the balance.~ She looks almost disturbed at her own capacity to kill with the gun, and it's clear this is something that's been troubling her.

Far-Cry only makes a comment that some animals kill things alone. Cougar. Bear. The Shadow Lord makes a significant pause before adding, Falcon.

Lightning listens silently. Only after Far-Cry's comment does he add that man also is an animal that hunts. I and to Far-Cry, we know this, for we were born to them. But you were not, and that is why part of your test was to know what men do with noisekillers.

Blackriver castes a rather annoyed stare at Far-Cry. ~Those are animals that are meant to hunt and live alone.~ She replies. ~Apes live in groups and should hunt in groups.~ She gives herself a shake and goes on. ~After I killed the prey animal I went to the scab. I took Howls-for-Glory, who had a weaver-thing to get there. We saw three apes hitting a smaller ape and dragging him into a dark place. I followed them to the dark place, and saw them hitting him more. Then they all started to hit him at once and tried to kill them. That seemed wrong. Apes are not predators who fight each other, they are prey-animals who sometimes act as predators. Prey animals do not kill other prey animals all at once. Also, it is dishonorable for Garou to do this, and since wolves do this it is something that must come from our ape side.~

Far-Cry's return stare is one that holds a little confusion to it. With a shake of his fur, though, he refocuses and listens quietly to the Fang philodox. The Shadow Lord makes no comment, glancing briefly to Lightning to observe his reaction as well.

Lightning looks at Far-Cry. Should we have her show us the dark place? Or do you think one dark place is much like another?

Blackriver settles back onto her haunches. ~The dark place is in the scab.~ She replies, as if that should settle it. ~It was like the places the weaver-things run on, but dark. There were lots of them.~

Far-Cry dismisses the need for the further investigation of the dark place. Humans fight all the time, for many stupid reasons. They do not need to be predators to fight. Why did the humans you saw hit the smaller one?

Lightning falls silent again, ears perked as he awaits the answer to that from Blackriver.

Blackriver doesn't know. ~They were talking very fast and very strangely. The bitch was yelling at him, and she was making the other two hit him until he said something. Then she laughed and hit him some more. Then she tried to kill him. It wasn't that she was killing him that was bad, it was that they all were killing him. They didn't let him run away, and they didn't let him fight back with honor. They found him and made him go to the dark place so they could kill him.~

Far-Cry looks once more to the fostern challengee, gaze lingering there before turning to the other philodox. And then?

Lightning's body language tenses right up, as though something Blackriver has just told him has caused him some unspoken alertness or nervousness. He doesn't communicate anything other than that at this point.

Blackriver notes Lightning's reaction, but doesn't know what to make of it, so she goes on. "I tried to kill the bitch with the noisekiller. She was bleeding a lot, but the two other apes came after me, so I ran away. I went with Howls-for-Glory and hid, and then came back. There was lots of blood, but I hadn't killed her. So I tracked her down. I found the ape she was trying to kill, and made him tell me where she was. I tracked her to a scab den. I tried to go into the scab den, but the apes there wouldn't let me. So I went it another way. That way made lots of noise, so I hid again and went in when the noise was gone. Then I found her and killed her by shoving the noisekiller into her mouth until she died.~

Far-Cry flattens his ears at the continued story, looking less and less... approving of what is related. Did all this noisemaking lead to more apes finding you or Howls-For-Glory?

How did you make her tell you? asks Lightning. His body is still drawn taut.

Blackriver asked him. ~When he didn't answer, I made him scared and asked him again.~ She answers Lightning's question first, before turning to Far-Cry. ~No. The apes didn't seem to care about me or Howls-for-Glory.~

Far-Cry considers the answer a little longer. And the girl, you only killed her and not the others in her pack?

Lightning doesn't seem satisfied. How did you scare him? How do you ask him? I know you do not speak the tongue of apes in this region.

Blackriver only killed the bitch who acted like the alpha. The Philodox confirms, before turning to Lightning. ~I know how to make monkey babble! Bloods-Bane is teaching me. I don't need to talk as much as a lot of apes do to make them understand me. And sometimes my ancestors help.~ The Fang gives another shake. ~I pressed him against the side of a scab-den and was angry at him.~

Far-Cry cocks his head to a side, tail flipping behind him as he sits and thinks. The Shadow Lord withholds questions for a moment, looking instead to Lightning.

Lightning's stance and body language are redolent of deep thought and uncertainty. Eventually he addresses Far-Cry. Come aside with me, Shadow Lord. Let us discuss the challenge apart from the challenger. He pads up through the trees until Blackriver is only a small shadow at a little distance, and waits for Far-Cry to join him.

The Shadow Lord stares quizzically at the Silver Fang philodox a little longer, turning away when he is called aside. Moving alongside the Fostern, he shifts upwards to his breedform. All the better to discuss 'intellectually' with. "So, what do you say, Lightning-rhya?" he asks first when they are relatively out of earshot.

Lightning follows Kenneth back into homid. "How much is it reasonable," he asks slowly, "to expect a lupus-born to pass as a homid? To fully comprehend human ways and human thought? I've never met a single one, personally, no matter how high their rank in the Nation, who could pull it off a hundred percent."

"But as you said," Kenneth remarks with a fold of his arms over his chest, "this was a test of her comprehension of human thought."

"Quite," Cedric says with a slight hint of acidity. "But is the test to comprehend it perfectly, or to comprehend it... enough?"

Kenneth casts his gaze down to the earth, going silent for a bit. "Shadow Lords," he utters quietly as if to quote something from his past, "only accept perfection." This statement is but a lead-in, as he looks up to the fostern. "But expect none."

Cedric's eyes are ready to bore into Kenneth's when he lifts them back up. "So you say she has failed?"

"I said nothing one way or the other, Lightning-rhya," Kenneth replies evenly. "But I did ask you what you thought."

"He who accepts only perfection," retorts Cedric, "is doomed to be disappointed the vast majority of the time." He sighs. "What do /you/ say, Osric? What is Falcon's view? For she is Your child, as am I." He holds up his right hand and stares at it intently.

Kenneth makes no comment in reply to Cedric's about perfection. His gaze travels up to the Fang's hand, and the halfmoon awaits in an almost reverent, respectful silence for a possible reply.

Cedric seems to be listening, if the odd "mmhm" sounds he makes from time to time are anything to judge by. After some thirty seconds he looks back to Kenneth with an expression of relief and triumph. "Osric considers her challenge successful."

Kenneth lifts his head slightly, eyes narrowing as he looks almost directly to the galliard. "Osric," states the philodox, "is not the one Blackriver challenged for rank."

"I know," Cedric says, again showing signs of being peeved. "She challenged me. But who am I to argue with an avatar of Falcon? The terms of the challenge, though, were that we -- not I alone -- had to agree that she was worthy of being a fostern. Now let me see. She had to learn to shoot. Do you agree that she has done so, from her own words?"

"I'm only reminding you that spirits can sometimes be interpreted wrongly," Kenneth states with a hand moving to halt the fostern's temper, temporarily at least. "I do agree she has learned how to use a gun, as the first part of the challenge. And I agree she has used the gun to shoot down an animal that would provide for the sept without using her lupus ways. Her admittance there shows her understanding for its destructive power."

"Very well. Then she went to the city and found someone she judged deserving of death. And she killed them with the gun... even if not in the orthodox way." Cedric allows himself a small smile. "If anything I believe that deserves marks for sheer chutzpah."#

Kenneth looks off towards the rest of the forest for a moment. "And you believe," he says as he turns back, "the human she spoke of deserved death? For what I'm guessing, was a gang beating of a possible innocent?"

There's a long pause before Cedric answers that. He takes a deep breath, and answers "Yes."

"On our honor, Cedric-rhya, does this judgment rest." Kenneth takes in a deep breath, blinking a few times before slowly nodding. "Garou are not human. Our ways are different than theirs. Blackriver's choices lead to the completion of all the terms given to her, for her challenge for the rank of Fostern." The philodox uncrosses his arms from his chest, forcing an ease to the tension that's come up along his shoulders. "I judge and agree. Blackriver has passed her fostern challenge."

Cedric exhales the deep breath. "Then so let it be announced." Tension drains away out of him and he offers Kenneth a hand -- not the one he was talking to earlier. "Thanks for your diligent judgin' in this challenge, Kenneth, old fellow."

Kenneth's own hand extends out - his dominant left - and shakes with the Silver Fang. Only his brows lift at the 'old' comment, but the halfmoon makes no more of it. "It has been my honor to serve duty for the Silver Fangs," he likewise replies. "I hope to see you at the moot. And perhaps you will bring with you a new name for your tribemate in honor of her accomplishments."

"I'll give it thought," Cedric promises. "Unless you have any suggestions off the top of your napper?"

Kenneth's upwards arched brows jump up again, his surprise making it past the neutral masks filtering his expression. "I... would not expect to be naming any fostern," remarks the Shadow Lord slowly. "Though off the top of my head? She was one who brought justice and judgment to those who would further dishonorable behavior. You could say, her Justice-Smites-the-Wicked."

Cedric seems to chew that one over mentally. "I shall see how that fits her before moot," he muses, "and of course I'll be seein' you there."

Kenneth bows his head once more. "Of course, bringing Thunder and Lightning, if you excuse the pun, together to agree is no small feat either." He pauses to let that twist of word humor sit, and then takes a step back in self-dismissal. "I must be going to prepare for the gathering as Truthcatcher. Gaia watch your path."

Cedric frowns for a moment in apparent puzzlement before the wordplay hits him. "Oh! Ha-ha. Smashin' joke." He chuckles. "Till moot, friend."

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