One-Rage is laying in his Lupus form on his pew, head draped along his large paws as his tail sways from left to right underneath him. His body still wracked with the pain from inside, feeling as if his stomach was set afire.

Three-Blades pushes open the doors to the church with her head before shouldering in.

Padding up to the sickly lupus, Blades tilts her ears to either side and whurfs softly, her eyes, even in this form, carrying concern.

One-Rage twitches his ears upwards slightly at the sound of the door opening. Hackles rise as he lifts his head in a predatory rumble, liquid orbs glazing over painfully as he stares at the door, then relaxes, seeing his sister.

Three-Blades sits on her haunches, her head quirking to one side and long ears pricking upward. Her question is direct. How is the sickness?

One-Rage doesn't know yet. Elan-Rhya is giving me some medicine later. Says it'll flush the crap out. One-Rage doesn't seem very enthused, but grateful to know he's being helped.

Her tail thumps softly as she shifts her weight on her paws, swaying slightly. I'm not a very good scout, am I? She rumbles her inward concern to her brother. I still have to ask ~Elan-rhya~ if it would be acceptable as service to the sept. But, this one has doubts for reasons obvious.

One-Rage nudges her hard in the head, licking at her muzzle. No, you are good scout, and good packmate. Mistakes happen, I was careless when I bit into the bane.

Little Tim bangs open the door to the church, unaware of who might be waiting inside. The muttered (and far off-tune) strains of some undiscernible song lead the way into the church, trailing away just before he calls, "Yo-yo, who's home?"

Three-Blades gives the ahroun an affectionate, grateful lick in return, her tongue brushing over his muzzle. Careless isn't right. You did what you had to do, and biting is just another way of banekilling. Her ears cant to either side. Packmate? Her question trails off as the banging draws her attention and she rises to her paws. With quiet padding, she sniffs cautiously before slowly turning her head around the edge of the pew to look at Tim.

One-Rage lifts his head upwards towards the door as his opaque stare glistens brightly with territorial ferocity. Drawing in a deep breath, he sounds to be choking as the liquid rattles away in his throat. Know him. Little Tim, a Gnawer. New Moon like you. Big time prick, but a good kid. With a burst of energy, the sick feral leaps off the pew, padding towards the door, barking loudly. COME IN!

Little Tim wavers a little before planting a hand on a pewback for support - the smell of alcohol is fairly strong on him. "Oh, shit, sorry, kids," he says as he wobbles closer. "Don't mean to be botherin' nobody." In the relative darkness of the church, he can barely make out who exactly it is here, but he read the welcoming bark easily enough. "Just Little Tim," he offers as an introduction, "Tooth-Breaker. 'Sup?"

Pointed, black-tipped ears swivel forward and up as she sniffs the scent of the fellow Gnawer. Her tail swishes lightly in the air as she chuffs in greeting, rumbling out in accented Garou, ~Three-Blades, no-moon.~ She looks upward, then opens her jaws in a lupine grin jokingly.

Drinking in another deep breath, the Ahroun lifts his head up a bit, standing proudly despite his painful state he's in. Chuffing, he rumbles towards the two legger. ~One-Rage-In-Shadows. Ahroun~ He states simply, letting his tail brush along the dusty floor of the church. ~Been a long time ToothBreaker. You have missed many a fight and moot~

Little Tim holds out an inked, scarred hand - a gesture a human might offer a stranger dog, to sniff his hand. "No moon too," Tim says, reaching now to rumple the top of Three-Blades' head. "An' a heard 'bout you." He cocks a pointed finger at One-Rage. "You got your little-ass-self fucked up underground, huh? Don't look too rough now, though," he adds, squinting toward the Ahroun again.

Banecruncher pads in and raises his head, sniffing to see if anyone is here. One-Rage rumbles lightly towards Tim. Was not hurt in a fight, but thinks he swallowed a piece of fomori or bane while he was killing everything in sight. Big Dog says he'll be fine, just has to puke it back up. Casting his head around, he sniffs towards Frisket, barking happily as he nudges against Yi again.

Three-Blades growls softly, ranging from an appreciative sound to a not-so pleasant rumble as the fellow no-moon immediately points out Rage's sickness. Her lips lift slightly as she pulls back to almost lecture the raggie, but then sees Bane and bows her head slightly in greeting, whuffing in accompanied greeting.

Little Tim leans heavily against a pew, one hand cemented there for drunken balance, and turns to offer a slow wave toward Banecruncher. "Hey, chief, what's shaking?" he asks.

Banecruncher whuffs at the familiar scents. He pads up toward Little Tim and nudges him. Hard. Someone is poisoning himself.

One-Rage relaxes back onto his haunches as his triangle tip'd ears pin back onto his skull, canting his head slightly to one side. With a painful, quiet grunt, he relaxes back onto his stomach, rumbling lightly as he leans into Three-Blades.

Three-Blades nuzzles Rage in the side, pressing him to lay back down somewhere instead of stand around and strain himself. She finally notices the tinge of alcohol pervading the other no-moon's scent. It'd been awhile since she'd been around drunks. She sits on her haunches and gazes down briefly at One-Rage, her tail thumping quietly against his side as it twitches periodically.

"Ain't poison, m'man," Tim says happily, grinning now. "It's the nectar of the gods, dude." Oh, the overeager bliss of near-drunkenness has him waxing... nearly poetic. Banecruncher's nudge shifted his balance, so he leans on the other hand now. "I was just checkin' with Three-Rages an' One-Blade here to see what's what with the sewer business. Heard he got jacked all up - decided to see for m'self."

One-Rage is just fine. Rumbles lightly to himself as he closes his eyes, flickering his tail back and forth in annoyance. Never better.

Banecruncher thinks you would be in serious trouble if you had to fight in this condition. He pads past so sniff at One-Rage. Has Bigdog come?

One-Rage slightly huffs at Bane's words and feels his shoulders slump. Yes, BigDog has come, says I'll be fine, Just has to puke more, he brings medicine.

Banecruncher rumbles in approval. Good. Hope it tastes better than the medicine my twoleg gave me when I was a pup.

One-Rage wrinkles his nose slightly, sniffing lightly at the air as his body slumps against Three-Blade's. Sister blames herself, but it wasn't her fault the thing decided to take a shit in my mouth.

Her ears flick, tongue brushing wetly over her black nose with a pink flicker. As much as she wants to believe in everything going as planned. What will happen if the medicine does not work? The fault is mine, for not seeing the bane as I passed by.

Banecruncher thinks it is nobody's fault. No plan survives contact with the enemy. If it doesn't work, we get the serious medicine. What my twoleg called ~castor oil~.

Little Tim sways a bit unsteadily as he peers down at Three-Blades. Grimacing, he says, "Hey, sis, shit happens. Better get used to your homies gettin' hosed on you. Three-Rage here ain't so bad off."

One-Rage snorts at Tim. ONE-RAGE. Twice now he has made light of his Garou name within his drunken stupor. Perhaps, he'll puke on his shoes. Drawing his ebon filled stare back to Three-Blades, he snorts a bit, wrinkling his nose. Will drink Castor Oil if it will fix him, doesn't want to miss any action due to a technicality.

Banecruncher rumbles and bats the drunken ragabash's leg. Time to sit down, drunk.

Three-Blades shifts weight on her paws to briefly lean against the ahroun. Glancing up at Tim, she whurfs. Perhaps... Her eyes and ears then turn to Banecruncher. What of the news back in the caern? I have not traveled in that direction for awhile.

One-Rage has news from the Sept, thinks it be best if they stay away from them for awhile. Alpha is going to be 'extremely' upset from what he has heard this morning from Finds-The-Lost.

Little Tim mumbles, "Shit, hey, I don't wanna... " even as he's drifting to a seat in a nearby pew. He frowns over at Banecruncher, but looks attentive at mention of word from the caern. He stares blearily for the answer.

Banecruncher swings his head around to focus on One-Rage.

Three-Blades too turns her attentions to her brother, ears pricked and attentive, eyes scanning him habitually.

One-Rage found out that Alpha's mate, Chloe, was slaughtered by the wolverine pack. Finds-Lost was the one who delivered death blow to her. A warper in the Umbra. Steven says that she could not be trusted, so they gave her a chance to leave. She did not take it, so they took her life. Thinks it'd be best to stay away and hide for a few days, let him calm down.

One-Rage was listening to BigDog and him speak, thinks the young Fenrir is really scared out of his mind, didn't know what he was doing, was acting on orders.

Banecruncher rumbles uncomfortably. Alpha is a twoleg. That means he is going to be difficult for some time. I would not want to be in the wolverine pack right now.

Banecruncher rests his head on his forepaws with a heavy sigh. I do not understand twolegs. It is not as if she was his littermate or his packmate. She was only his mate.

Three-Blades opens her jaws and clips them together again, blinking with surprise at such horrible news. Why did they kill her? Was she tainted? Her next question comes hesitantly, almost embarrassingly. What is a warper?

One-Rage nuzzles Three-Blades. It means wizard. Some humans can do that...use magic. Turning his gaze to Bane, he rumbles lightly. Humans when they mate, most of the time fall in love. Alpha was probably in love with her, more then just a mate, a wife. But, doesn't know the details, only what he heard. NightFlash and Finds-Lost killed her.

Banecruncher would not want to be in their paws.

One-Rage doesn't either. Finds-Lost thought she was a spirit of sorts, didn't know that they could go into the shadow. The pack told her to leave, but she would not stay out of Garou matters. She was stupid, but they were even more stupid to kill her, she was a powerful alley and healer big dog says.

Three-Blades rumbles quietly, taking in the alias to what she knew of wizards. Could she not fight back, being powerful to be mate of alpha?

One-Rage doesn't know anything but what he told them, but doesn't think this news should go very far. Not something proud to brag upon, only told you because your pack and family, and wouldn't want you crossing Brian while on the war path.

Banecruncher agrees. It would be best to tread lightly around the Alpha. Around the Rangers, too.

Three-Blades whurfs at Banecruncher inquiringly. Rangers?

Banecruncher chuffs in amusement. A name for the garou who do not like the city. It is a twoleg word, but it is good for remembering.

One-Rage dips his head in a slight nod, slumping to the side slightly, groaning heavily as his red stained eyes glisten and pulse with the newly formed headache.

Three-Blades stands up briefly to shake out the tense feeling that had been gathering in her shoulders before settling back down onto her haunches. I am not a halfmoon, she notes with a small twitch of her ear. I'm not one to decide if the either side would be right, moreso because this is probably not the full story.

Banecruncher is certain this is not the full story. But we will never know the full story, I am sure.

One-Rage doesn't know, only overheard, doesn't want to know the full story. The more someone knows, the more trouble they can get into.

Three-Blades chuffs in small agreement, though her inner curiosity threatens like a Bastet fishing for secrets. She shakes out her fur again, clearing the thoughts from her mind.

Banecruncher thinks that is true. But the more someone knows, the more they can defend against, too.

One-Rage wonders what is to be done about the sewers, is itching to help fight along the Sept once more.

Banecruncher needs more information. Must get scouts and information for planning.

Glad for the change of subject, even if it were to a less than pleasant one, Blades swishes her tail along the floor a few times. You should not be eager to fight, Jay. Not in this condition. It would strain your pained stomach to think of swallowing more baitblood. Still, this one also wonders what is to be done with the sewers. At a time such as this, something may choose to attack, when the Alpha is not of complete mind.

Banecruncher thinks you are wise to think of that. We must find Ears and spread the warning. And the call for scouts and warriors.

~Osprey Circle Fountain,~ the asian lupus growls in stilted mother tongue. She runs her tail along Jay's fur briefly. Jay has told few, but we have heard it was a shelter of sorts. And, it is full of banes. Darker than the Umbra in noontime, down there. She twitches briefly, remembering uncomfortably the dark, closed in feeling. This one is also worried of the spirit flow in the area. Crescents will definitely be needed, in my opinion.

One-Rage rumbles softly and sighs to himself. Can not help but want to fight, to help do his part for Gaia. Will not let a stomach ache stop him from destroying and rendering the Wyrm. Glancing to Blade's tail, he follows it with his eyes for a moment as it runs along his side, then lets out a contented gruff as he leans into her, tucking his head underneath her chin. Banecruncher agrees. We will need crescents. Only crescents can cleanse what warriors destroy. And no-moons guide us to our targets.

Three-Blades shifts weight again, her paws flexing out slightly as her head drops slightly, resting lightly on Jay's. She muses softly, wonders if perhaps there will be a forming of a mission pack, when this blight is ready to be cleansed.

Banecruncher thinks there should be a mission pack for this. Maybe two. One for realm and one for umbra.

One-Rage dips his head in agreement as he glances to the two of them, huffing and puffing, feeling like a cripple.

Three-Blades's head raises and tilts to a side, ears flicking as her eyes unfocus in quiet thought, strategy of attack running through her mind. The sewer would be too dangerous for direct attack. There must be a way to flush them into the open, draw them out. A few at a time. The fountain is their source of power, I think. Unfortunately it is a well traveled area by humans, lots of traffic in the day. If we went into the sewers, maybe there would be a way to get talens, to see in that Gaia forsaken darkness.

Banecruncher thinks that talens of light are wise. Also some of what the twolegs call ~dynamite~.

Three-Blades opens her jaws in a grin. ~Dynamite.~ A word she learned through watching a bit of TV in Jay's apartment. She knows the effects, but the havoc wreaked on that public fountain would disturb the humans, wouldn't it?

One-Rage thinks the noise and destruction would surely cause a panic. Also, if the walls are destroyed, may drown a few people. But does note that Dynamite surely does its job. Blows things up good. Real good.

Banecruncher rumbles thoughtfully. If only enough was used to force them out, the way twolegs use it to bring fish to the surface...

Three-Blades growls, her tail twitching a little more in thought. If they were lit underground, it could rupture the lines. Maybe if there were a way to make it look like a pipe explosion. We should see if there are powerlines around.

Banecruncher thinks that would work. Hope-Star said something about ~gas~.

Three-Blades's eyes lower to the floor, her paw scratching slightly. ~Gas,~ she rumbles. Banes would have to manifest, if the explosion were to have a more killing effect, wouldn't they?

One-Rage thinks that if it blew up underground, it definitly would help though, would destroy their nesting grounds and make them confused in the Umbra.

We would have to be quick about it, or find another area to fight. If the twolegs come once the explosion sets off, the Veil would be in danger. Yi pauses in her sentence. Then again, if the banes manifested, and they were seen, we could probably consider the Veil broken. Better to clean up our mess than leave the possible taint for the twolegs.

Banecruncher agrees. The problem with manifested banes in the city. We must get advice from more experienced Gnawers.

Three-Blades scratches for a moment at an itch on her side. She sets her hindpaw back down. It would probably help if we had a second scouting beforehand. Elan-rhya wanted other no-moons to come with us on the first, but they could not come.

Banecruncher agrees. We need another scouting. One with more no-moons. And anyone who can sense the enemy, so we know how far the infection is spread.

Three-Blades swishes her tail quietly in thought. Then, something spontaneous comes to her. She chuffs in curiosity to the two ahrouns. What gifts do you two know?

One-Rage glances idly to his sister and chuffs a bit. Most likely the same as you do, except my warrior's gift, Falling Touch.

Banecruncher rumbles. I have heightened senses, and the gift of smelling out food anywhere. I also have the gift of razor claws.

Three-Blades lowers down to her belly, ears flicking. If we survive this sewer thing, perhaps you would be willing to teach this one some of those gifts.