Jeadagh has been quiet throughout most of the moot, keeping to the background, but the time for his silence is nearing an end. When the storytelling is complete, the Fostern Fianna steps forward, his voice raised to carry to all those present. ~Garou of Hidden Walk! Those of you who will follow me into battle should gather now in the Umbra. Our acting Alpha will take charge of those who will be serving as Guardians, so any of you who have were designated should move there now. The rest, with me!~

That said, Jeadagh drops to all fours, and heads toward the pool, where even still, the influence of the Lady of Mirrors can be seen.

After finishing a rousing story of glory and honor, Alicia clears her winded throat and glances around the other gathered Garou, then heads towards the pool after Jeadagh. Jeadagh pages to the room: Er, Guardians should head toward the sept compound, sorry. 'There' isn't terribly descriptive, is it.

With firm resolution, Rags heads over to the pool to join the Fianna.

Fat-Ripper shrinks down into her Lupus form, and quietly heads over towards the waterfall and pool, staying to the trees and skirting the clearing.

By the waterfall, Final-Hour approaches the waterfall from the center of the caern. The hackles at the back of Judges-Souls' neck rise slight towards the conclusion of the moot and the begining of the reveal. The Get, having remained in the shadows throughout the moot now joins Jeadagh and the rest.

Umbra: Center of the Caern(#3844RJ)
A subtly spine-vibrating thrum of power issues once again from the once-dead caern, pricking hairs and fur. Slowly but surely, the rejuvinating actions of the Garou have slowly been transforming the recently spiritually dead caern back into something befitting a caern. The caern is once again alive with a variety of spirits, though spirits of war seem a rarity now, and Wendigo spirits are never seen. The caern, visually, falls just short of the wildest rural utopia imaginable. Only hints of the previous pollution remain--slightly less than green grass, young sapling trees where there ought to be mighty oaks and pines--and these are things that, with time and care, should eventually replace what was lost.
The air crackles with tingles of spiritual potency, though it's obvious to Garou who'd witnessed the caern earlier that the caern just isn't quite as powerful and potent as it was before the BSD invasion.
Contents:
[Revelers of course.]
Obvious exits:
South North West

When the Garou cross into the Umbra, behind Jeadagh is a rather large black and red serpentine spirit with wings, a barbed tail, and the talons of an eagle. Wyvern, for those who would recognize him.

Three-Blades, upon finishing her stepping sideways, lays eyes on the Wyvern spirit and balks at the creature of legends. She obviously hasn't seen one of those before. It takes a moment before she realizes the dragon isn't going to eat her. Afterwards, she snorts, shaking her fur and trotting to Alicia's side.

Brings-Buffalo chuffs a greeting to his pack's totem, head bowing in respect, then glances at Yi, ears swiveling with curiousity.

Judges-Souls becomes whole on the otherside of the realm and gives a brief shake of her pelt as she looks up with clear, sky-blue eyes towards the Wyvern that is seen behind the Fostern Fianna.

Fat-Ripper casts a wary glance at Wyvern, but largely ignores him. She's more interested in the surrounding spirits and vegetation; the caern is still very new to her. She wanders around on her own, not going far, waiting for somethign to start.

Snake-Bait's ears flick back, then forwards again as he sees Wyvern in all his glory. Since no one else attacks it immediately, the Gnawer relaxes. Brings-Buffalo's greeting to the beast confirms that the spirit is an ally. Flexing his claws, he stays to the side, not wanting to intrude on the packs as they gather.

Stepping through and shifting into her war form, Guards-The-Flame glances over at the totem and lifts up a paw, wriggling her fingers for a moment in salutations, then chuffs softly over to Three-Blades. Nervous? She asks, grinning to herself.

Final-Hour materalizes. His pebbly black lips part in a wolfen grin at the sight of Wyvern. He rumbles lowly in a greeting, his posture respectful but also tense with the excitement of battle.

Three-Blades peers back towards Brings-Buffalo as he looks at her, before gazing back up at Wyvern. In reply to Alicia, she chuffs, I would be a fool not to be.

Brings-Buffalo moves to stand by his alpha, speaking to him in low tones.

Jeadagh speaks, ~Given the numbers we have, we will divide into two groups for the revel. Given who we have here, Rough and Tumble and Scourge members will form the core of each group. The rest of you, break up in even numbers and join with each group.~

Reggie crosses the gauntlet with the difficulty known to any unspiritual homid-bord Garou, looks around, pauses as he sees the dragon, and pauses until he's certain no one's getting eating by it (yet), then heads over to the Wendigo.

Fat-Ripper listens carefully. She looks around for a second in consideration, but then pads over to Alicia, letting her Tribal affiliations make her decision for her.

Hmm, no brainer. Snake-Bait takes a few steps to stand with Rough and Tumble. ~Guards-Flame-rhya, I'll follow you.~

Judges-Souls tilts her head at the Fianna. Not yet a part of the pack, the Get of Fenris automaticly stands with the Fianna and his followers. She gives a light growl as she looks up towards the others, ~This is where I belong.~

Guards-Flame nods her head slowly as she glances around at the gathered Garou. She leads a handful of Gnawers into doom. A wry grin forms over her muzzle as she flicks her ears upwards, glancing towards Final-Hour.

Final-Hour joins those that stand with Wyvern his totem: the alpha, Luke, the Wendigo, and the Beta's young one. His tongue curls over his teeth, and he yawns in the way that canines do in anticipation.

Jeadagh welcomes over his packmates, Final-Hour and Brings-Buffalo, as they join him, and then Judges Souls as well, who soon will be one. Waiting to see which others come to join them. When Reggie is the first, ~I welcome you, Claw.~

Brings-Buffalo nods to Reggie, clapping him on the back.

Jeadagh says, ~Rather than travel the full distance through Umbra, with the dangers that would entail, it is now time for us to make our way to the Zoo on the other side. Those fighting with Scourge can accompany me.~ Looking to Guards-Flame, then, ~Can you transport your group?~

Guards-Flame nods her head sharply to Jeadagh. ~That I can.~ In regards to the pack, she flicks her ears towards them. ~Everyone, shift down into the human skin. No need to rend the veil on the other side and provoke a frenzy. Once done, we cross over.~ Jeadagh has left.

Zoo Grounds(#3023RJh)
The sign over the locked gates reads "St. Cl ire oo," with the missing letters nowhere to be found. The small abandoned zoo has been home to a sucession of vagrants, drifters, and the occasional gang, and it looks as if each successive resident decided to trash it just before they left. Spray paint both ancient and new scrawls over all the buildings, walkways, and exhibits. Septic puddles remain in some of the exhibits, drains having been clogged years ago. Mosquitoes thrive and swarm. Weeds have long since begun their assault on this abandoned zoo, taking over the green patches and making remarkable progress in the cracked cement. The main offices, simple cinder block constructions, sport only broken windows and cracked tile floors. Everything else has long since been cleaned out or broken; if it had any value whatsoever, it's gone. Even the toilets in the restrooms have been unbolted and carried off to sell for a couple hits of crack cocaine. To the north, the constant buzz of traffic on I-90 intrudes on any conversations. This zoo is little more than a weed-choked, litter-strewn cement wasteland, doomed to be bulldozed some day into a parking lot, office complex, or shopping center as the city grows.
A cracked walkway littered with weeds leads towards the main office. To the northeast, there is a small hole leading out underneath the fence and to the street.
(Please read the +views.)
Contents:
[Revelers plus a TskiGM]
Obvious exits:
Main Office Under the Fence

The Garou have divided into two groups for the revel's battle. The first is led by Jeadagh, and making up fellow members of Scourge Final-Hour and Brings-Buffalo along with Judges-Souls and Reggie. This group traveled in Luke's truck, now painted a basic black rather than woodland camo, the second group lead by Guards-Flame, and comprising Three-Blades, Snake-Bait, and Olga.

The Rough and Tumble 2.0 pack sits in Alicia's car, following after Luke's truck a few car lengths away. Music plays through the speakers, softly, a bit of Rob Zombie to keep the mood all stirred up.

However roomy the truck was, it's a lot less roomy with Reggie in it. The arrival of the truck at its destination must come as a relief.

Leonard rides in the back of Luke's truck, one elbow over the side as he watches the passing scenery with a bored detatchment. He perks up once they reach their destination, however.

The various garou arrive at the zoo's physical location by hook or by crook, car or by truck. The zoo is much like it was left earlier this evening: run down, littered, and devoid of life.

Reggie looks unimpressed by the zoo as he walks not far from the group. Noticing all the litter, he smirks in Olga's direction.

Leonard sticks with his pack as he approaches the zoo, looking around warily.

Parking the car across the street from the zoo, Alicia climbs out of the driver's seat and stares ahead at the Zoo, that is now her pack's safe haven. "Home sweet home." She says softly to herself, then hips the door shut, motioning the others to continue.

Luke parks his truck fairly close to the zoo, letting those in the camper of his truck out before they head over. Once everyone is gathered, he asks Alicia, "So where's the best spot to cross over?"

Craig follows the Gaian, looking here, there and everywhere. He keeps his arms crossed over his chest, trying to contain the excitement and energy echoing in him after the moot.

Fat-Ripper jumps out of the car and stretches. In response to Reggie's smirk, she picks up a piece of trash and puts in the garbage, as grandiosely as possible, as every _good_ garou should; she then glares at him a bit.

Erika remains neutral, as always, the younger Get of Fenris wears a mask of emotion. She embarks from whatever vechile she was brought over in, since she does not come even close to being at a legal driving age. Her eyes look towards Luke and then across to the other warriors. The Norse woman stuffs her hands into the depths of the pockets of her jeans and waits for further instruction.

Reggie spreads out a hand to indicate the rest of the litter, then looks at Olga, as he taps a foot and waits.

Yi climbs out of Alicia's car short after, a hand adjusting her coat before she peers around the area, making notes of anybody who might happen upon the strange crews.

"Once we get inside, I'd say right out in the open. Don't want to be in a building or anything. The place is locked up an all, and there is no cameras active, so we won't have to worry 'bout snapping the veil or anything. At least we'd have more then adequate room to work with just in case we step over and there is a shit pile waiting for us." Alicia says, making her way for the front gates, eyes lifting upwards, peering about the familiar territory.

Wilbur follows Luke at a short distance, silent and obedient. He turns his head slowly on his neck, cricking the bones once. He has not enjoyed the cramped ride over.

The large Get of Fenris Elder follows with his pack, using spirit lent acute alertness guide his senses as he looks around, spying for something less then friendly to the group.

Olga grabs the bag out of one of the garbage bags near her and starts picking up trash. She sticks her tongue out at, makes faces at, glares at, and generally makes her displeasure known to Reggie whenever their glances meet.

Leonard glances at Reggie, eyes dancing.

Alicia pushes open the gates that lead into the zoo and steps through confidently, darting her eyes back and forth slowly. With a flex of her fingers, she heads for the open area of the zoo, to where Tigers and Lions were once kept, and elephants roamed behind iron bars.

Reggie folds his arms and contently watches Olga, occasionally pointing at some litter she missed.

Yi glances up along with around while others slip into the zoo's interior. Soon enough she joins up again with Alicia, the scout awaiting any orders that might come to her.

Leonard sticks to his pack, eyeing the abandoned buildings suspiciously.

Olga thanks him whenever he does in her sincerest insincere voice. When it becomes clear that things are about to happen, she hurries back to put the bag in its place in its can, and then quickly rejoins her group.

Craig steps up to the door of the cinder block husk, cocking his head and listening for a moment before jogging after Alicia and Yi.

Reggie maneveurs around a 8 foot tall pile of trash, looking admiring up at the height of it, then looks over to Olga to see how long it takes her to clean this up, while he goes off to earn Glory.

Luke looks between Reggie and Olga, "After the battle, people. We've got more important things to be thinking about right now." Then, looking again to the rat pack, since this is their territory, "We clear to change? If so, it's time to get this show on the road."

"Hey Luke, does yer' big dragon friend see anything on the other side?" Alicia asks the Theurge curiousl, hoping to have a bit of spirit help before they make the leap. With a motion of her hand, and after glancing around once more, she starts to shift into the war form, motioning the others to follow suit.

Erika moves closer towards Jamethon as they enter the zoo. Her hands still remain in her pockets as she leasurely strides along with the pack of the Wyvern. The Philodox's eyes wander only before coming to some keen alertness to her environment. Stopping in her tracks, she looks to Luke and towards the pack of the Rat.

Jamethon takes on the warform smoothly as he walks, with little sound or noticable discomfort. Oddly enough the Get's rage does not yet seem to be stoked, to all appearances.

Fat-Ripper shifts up into her Crinos form, and looks back at the mammoth trash-pile with a glint in her eye, reckoning she could take quite a dent out of it in this form; but first things first. She moves closer to Alicia, ignoring Reggie and the other pack, lest he distract her further.

Leonard follows suit, flexing his claws experimentally before falling in behind Jamethon. Wilbur stands and looks out across the expanse of the zoo. His eyes linger a moment in disgust on the heap of trash. With his back to a faded, chipped sign that entreats,'Please-- Do Not Feed the Animals', the Ahroun takes the towering wolf-man form.

Craig turns about to face the direction opposite the others, then concentrates, allowing himself to shift to Crinos.

Luke says, "Is your rat spirit not around? He'd be the one to ask. We haven't run with Wyvern long enough for him to link us, the way rat does for you. So I'd have to cross over to find out."

Reggie pointedly pinches his nose as a defense against the smell, as he rejoins his group, and shifts restlessly, looking expectedly between Luke and the rat pack.

Yi looks for Alicia's cue, shifting only to Glabro while others assume the warform. She's not about to go all out while they haven't stepped sideways yet.

Erika is a second behind the rest of the party as she joins them in warform. The Get of Fenris draws back her ears as she follows her eyes to the sigh which the Silver Fang has his eyes upon. She narrows her eyes and moves onward, sticking close to the pack.

Guards-Flame pauses for a moment, then rumbles quietly. ~I just lost communication with our totem. He was on his way, then suddenly...he was screaming. Then, all gone.~ Her lips curl back over her teeth, bristling with anger.

Brings-Buffalo blinks, looking at Guards-Flame. ~ Sounds like a warning to me. ~

Luke takes on the warform, ~Time to go, then, people. Move, and be ready!~

Guards-Flame bobs her head and glances over to the Fianna. ~You want to step ahead first, we'll be right behind you? You got the muscles, while we got the scouts. I do believe I may be the only healer among us.~

Fights-For-Hope rumbles violently at this news of a violation of a gaian spirit, not caring about the species. ~We are always ready. Time to remove some festering scum from the face of the earth.~ At Alicia's words he adds, ~I too can heal... but I doubt I'll have enough time to do so until after the fighting is done. If anyone is in a life or death situation and needs healing to continue the fight... just call for a healer.~

Yi growls as she feels the slight wave her packtotem's possible demise as well, narrowing her lightened eyes. "Doesn't feel good," she mentions quietly, but noting aloud, "Scouts should be first."

An eager glint dances in Reggie's eyes as he transforms into his warform, his fur vest transforming into a patchwork of fur over the crinos form. He takes a practice swipe, incidentally scattering more litter over the ground.

~I'm ready,~ Snake-Bait adds. ~Bring the fuckers on.~

You sense Brings-Buffalo gives you an admiring look.

Guards-Flame bobs her head towards the Get of Fenris, rumbling appreciativly. ~Good thing to know. I forgot that even our greatest warriors can heal.~ With a flick of her ear towards Three-Blades, she ponders for a moment. ~You and Snake-Bite step ahead them. Keep in touch.~ She taps her skull. ~Don't engage the enemy, step across and give a heads up.~

Final-Hour's lips peel back away from gums and teeth. His muscles give an anxious shift beneath his pelt. His eyes watch the Fianna, and then move beyond, a staring yellow gaze drifting over the abandoned zoo.

Jeadagh says, ~We'll cross over together. If things have gotten nasty enough that one spirit is down, we might be sending scouts to their deaths if they go alone. If things are relatively clear when we appear, then we'll utilize them. If not, we don't need them.~ That said, he prepares to lead his pack across the gauntlet, using whatever reflective surface is available.

Yi nods once, before looking towards Craig and concentrating to call up the gifts of her auspice. After her form seems to blur a little around the edges, she moves to step sideways with the reflective surface provided.

Brings-Buffalo follows in Jeadagh's footsteps, close behind the theurge.

Guards-Flame rolls her shoulders back a bit and rumbles to herself. ~Then lets hope this wlil go well.~ With that, she glances to her pack and holds up a piece of sharp glass, catching her reflection, urging the others to do the same, then, begins to step over.

Snake-Bait flexes his claws and finds his own eyes in the reflection. With a low growl, the boy follows Yi and Alicia through.

The graveyard fog-colored Get of Fenris stirrs in her position as her eyes flicker towards the members of the other pack before her eyes shift towards the leaders of her own. She waits for their lead, completely composed like a statue. Taking a deep breath, the Philodox follows after the rest.

Fat-Ripper waits a little while until a few others have gone first; she's no hero. Then she concentrates hard on her reflection and shifts into the spirit.

Rags looks warily around for surprises, then crosses over to the other side to await he knows not what.

Final-Hour follows his pack, blurring over to the other side to join-- with hope-- their totem.

The two theurges of Scourge, Fights-For-Hope and Jeadagh, leads the way through the gauntlet for his pack. Moving through the webbing between the worlds, they are psyched for the onslaught that may be found on the other side.

As the garou reach through the gauntlet and begin to cross over to the other side, in that temporary phase of transition when they can't move or take their gaze off their reflective surfaces for fear of becoming trapped between worlds, they're attacked immediately from all sides as a small army of tarantula-sized spiders--possibly a hundred or two--begin to swarm over the ground and attack at their feet, starting to climb their frozen-still bodies. Two dismantled wyvern wings lie on the ground some 30 yards away, the remains being picked over by a dozen hungry minions of the weaver.

Rags, frozen in the transition, can not even grimace as the spiders crowd over him.

Yi feels the stings of being attacked, but can't do a damn thing about it. Physically, anyway. This is pretty bad, she has to think, but she's experienced worse. Refusing to be taken out like this, she calls her willpower and spirit, to force her way through somehow out of this trapped state.

Brings-Buffalo grits his teeth, snarl frozen in his throat, and just narrows his eyes, concentrating on getting through the gauntlet as fast as possible. Yay Resist Pain.

Jeadagh lets out a growl that is part pain, but mostly fury at the sight of what remains of his totem spirit. Yes, he's glad that they all came at once. If that's even enough. He goes in at the spiders, claws swinging. It's payback time.

Snake-Bait struggles to keep his attention focused on the mirror, choking down a yelp as fangs rip and tear at him. Break through the gauntlet first. Worry about hurting shit second.

Rumbling loudly in annoyance at the bites upon her body, Guards-The-Flame starts to stomp on the spiders beneath her, trying to shake them off as she concentrates on a gift herself, calling upon Luna's magic.

Final-Hour forces himself to keep his concentration to break through, even as he sees the breadth of the arachnid army and what they have done to his totem. Fury swells up in his breast.

Fat-Ripper concentrates hard to step sideways, fear swelling up into her eyes at what she sees on the other side. As she as she refinds her form upon breaching the gauntlet, she starts to kick out and scratch the creatures off her flesh.

Judges-Souls uses her Gaia-given gift to get her through the Gauntlet. A blow-torch and some acid would work wonderfully right now. Not that this Philodox would be thinking of such things. As the dark wolf sees the condition of the totem, she growls deeply in her throat. Once she has completely crossed over, she joins her tribemate to slash her talons at the filthy arachnids.

Once through and as expirenced as he is, it is a quick trip, Fights-For-Hope roars out a short grunting and violent warcry. Rage enflamed by the sight of his abused totem spirit, he never the less doesn't forget that he has his pack with him. Turning to press his back up against Jeadagh's he makes sure there is no room between them as they stomp on spiders and using talonesque claws shred at the small weaverthings.

Brings-Buffalo too starts stomping/slashing the spiders off of himself, going back to back with Rags and attempting to slowly move towards the remains of his totem to see if the spirit might possibly be saved.

Yi is quick to Rage tonight as the sting of the arachnids flares even the ragabash's temper. She grows even larger, fur sprouting beneath the fangs of the spiders until she is in Crinos. Swiping and shaking madly, she uses her claws and teeth to extract and crunch anything still hanging onto her.

As he unfreezes, Rags takes out revenge by stomping up and down on the bugs. Crunch. Splat.

Snake-Bait manages to break through the gauntlet, finally, and gets into the bug-smashing action, bending over so he can use both huge forepaws.

Materializing fully, Final Hour snarls and snaps at the little creatures, even as he rolls his eyes on toward Brings-Buffalo heading for their downed totem. He moves to join his packmate, swiping claws and stomping paws.

And the garou go to work! Luke smashes four of the small spiders lickety-split, while two dozen spiders bite at his hands as well as his legs. Yi swipes and crushes rapidly, killing five and almost a sixth--it scuttles in circles on multiple broken legs. And other spiders take the opportunity to latch onto her arms and hands and bite. Alicia and Rags stomp away and crushes another four apiece underfoot, while about a half dozen spiders between them climb up their legs, biting all the while. Leonard, Fat-Ripper, Final-Hour, and Snake-Bait push free of the immobilizing gauntlet and brush and kick and shake themselves free of the spiders that had crawled onto them as they came through. What's left of wyvern's wings are consumed by the spiders picking it over. You get the sinking feeling you're next on the menu.

Jeadagh, past his initial surge of rage, throws back his head and lets loose with a howl that sounds as if the very gates of hell had torn open and death itself was riding out to battle. Unnerving even to his allies, the Banshee's Howl should prove far more terrifying to all of these tiny enemies in the area.

Howling in rage, Guards-The-Flame dances upon the ground as she plays Dance Dance Revolution with the spiders, swatting at the spiders on her legs, knocking them loose so that she can crunch them underfoot.

Rags dances about, performing the squishing of the spiders as he brings down his considerable weight on his feet. As the dancing isn't shaking off the clinging spiders, he hits the flat of his palm to flatten a spider on his leg, and picks off another to skewer it on his claws.

Brings-Buffalo gives up on inching towards the spiders devouring his totem and just full-out runs, ducking his head in alarm at the sound of Jeadagh's ungodly howl. If he manages to squish spiders on the way, great, but them damn spiders are not gonna eat his brand new dragon.

Tskilegwa pages to the room: If you want, just pose attacking spiders and squishing 3-4 of them per action (and 3-4 per extra point of rage spent--though you cannot use a gift and rage in the same round.) If you're defending, moving, or doing something else, pose that.

Jeadagh's howl causes Snake-Bait to balk a bit, but rage and fury at the tiny Weaver-spawn surge and send him lunging forward again. He drops to all fours and starts snapping, swatting and stomping, obliterating a couple of the creatures as he gets down to their level.

Tskilegwa pages to the room: Blunt force seems to work. They're fragile, but there's /tons/ of them.

Three-Blades snarls as more spiders clamber onto her and the second wave comes latching on. As Jeadagh's howl rips through the air, she too sweeps her ears back. Stamina withstanding, the Gnawer ragabash moves from her spot, attempting to escape the main waves of spiders and instead look for where they are coming from. Whipping her head back to her packmate Alicia, she howls out to the galliard, ~We must find the nest!~

Tskilegwa pages to the room: Howl of the Banshee in effect. Everyone page me their WP.

At his own packmate's unfurling of that mighty howling gift, Fights-For-Hope seems to bitch out. He was back to back with Luke and apparently that was too close, he starts sprinting away from his elder with a singular clouded vision of himself as far from the howl as possible... hopfully crushing some damned spiders on the way.

Fat-Ripper, now that she's shaken the spiders loose, drops down into Hispo form, getting face-to-face with the little buggers. She starts a-stomping and a-biting.

Sheer panic turns on speed Rags didn't know he had, as he flees from the spider-embattled Garou, the spiders on his legs not slowing him much.

The mass of converging spiders erupts into chaos as individual members of the swarm retreat, mixing with spiders that are charging and causing chaos. You can actually see ground every so often now as their ranks seem to have thinned.

Final-Hour lopes after Brings-Buffalo, and though he swats at a leaping spider or two, he keeps his long simian arms low to the ground as they run toward their totem. He sharpens his claws, invoking the warrior gift of Razor Claws.

Rumbling loudly to inspire the packs, Guards-The-Flame shouts out. ~They are on the run! Keep stomping and keep your heads together!~ With that, she crunches another three spiders beneath her large paws, hearing the sickening crack of shells and legs.

Judges-Souls becomes aggervated by Luke's howl and begins to take an advantage of the retreating achnids, squishing them as she takes off towards her tribemate while keeping some distance. The achnids are manageable but still a pain in the ass. She makes intelligent sweeps with her talons bared at the enemy.

Snake-Bait chases the nearest group of spiders, smashing two under his forepaws, snapping another in two in his jaws, and rending free a few legs from one too slow to get away from it's fellows. ~Smash them good!~

Three-Blades runs, being that coward stereotype that Gnawers are so despised and thought to be. Scrabbling to get away from the demonic howl that pierced her mind just enough to send the stink of fear around her, she stumbles as Alicia howls out and crashes muzzlefirst onto the ground, rolling and squishing a few arachnids on her back. Squish.

Suddenly, after a short period of running the Get elder skids to a stop and shakes his head. ~The hell,~ he growls as he turns about, rage in his speeded motions he swings wide arcs into the spiders. One, two, four, six, and eight are removed from existance as Fights-For-Hope's fetish collar glows a brighter red reveling in the spent rage and his battlecry risen to an almost fevered pitch.

Fat-Ripper goes snap, snap, stomp. She's a little more careful and clinical now. She spends most of her time with one front paw or another in the air, concentrating more on not taking damage than inflicting it. When the spiders threaten to get past her defences, she jumps back and repeats the process.

Rags slows from his headalong flight, arms pinwheeling to keep himself upright, and, lungs heaving, turns around to face the fight he fled from. A twitch shudders up his body as he regards Luke, and he shakes his head. ~So they're not all good singers...~. As an afterthought he sweeps the remainder of the spiders from his legs, cracking their bodies between his claws in the same matter that a diner cracks a crab to get to the interior.

Jeadagh is starting to look the worse for wear now, his fur matted with his own blood and the plasm residue of the spiders he's destroyed. Still, he's on his feet and fighting, squashing more spiders even as he's looking around for any sign of a spirit that might be able to provide some aid against these things. An electricity elemental, perhaps, drawn by nearby power lines in the realm.

Three-Blades regains her senses from the fall, standing as the stings of more spiders bite in and bring her back from the fear. Again, she looks for the origin of spiders with as much concentration as she can gather while dodging and countering attacks.

Tskilegwa pages: There doesn't seem to be an origin that you can see. Just tons and tons of itty bitty pattern spiders.

Helping Three-Blades to her feet, Guards-The-Flame rumbles in her throat, stomping another spider into the ground as she flexes out her claws, ears twitching forward, panting slightly to herself.

Brings-Buffalo growls out a curse as he sees the last of the wyvern being gobbled up by the twice-damned spiders. He goes to hispo, all-fours, more feet for the crushing, but is rapidly realizing the futility of this mission. ~ A raindrop will not drown you, but a storm like this will wash us all away! We need another plan. ~ He keeps squishing, however, keeping an eye for other spirits in trouble.

Tskilegwa pages to the room: Alicia, Luke, Leo, and Judges frenzy. Yi and Olga thrall frenzy--eat and be ragey.

From afar, to the room, Tskilegwa tosses everyone two points of rage on a whim. Slaughter away.

Brings-Buffalo decides just stomping isn't good enough. In fact, its downright maddening. The Wendigo just seems to go insane suddenly, maybe from the fact his totem was just et. He starts snarling and growling, rolling on the ground, running, snapping at anything that moves like a mad thing.

A flash of red crosses over Guards-The-Flame's eyes as she starts to blindly whip her claws around at just about anything that moves, hopefully that being the spiders which still crawl about, being that it what got her attention in the first place. A primal snarl echos from her throat, ears pinned to her skull.

Snake-Bait rises up from all fours, scenting the air and calling on his inner spirit. Hard as that is to do in the middle of a raging brawl. ~Worth a shot,~ he snarls, activating an unconventional gift and concentrating like hell on the spiders nest. Find the Prize, dude, find the prize.

Three-Blades goes down under a pile of spiders, but soon bursts upwards with an otherworldly roar. The Gnawer ragabash is beyond reason, snapping wildly at arachnid and pretty much anything close to her, just missing Alicia on her way. She falls upon an unfortunate first victim, devouring the spirit before another comes withing range and is chomped down on. Froth mixes with spiderguts and feral madness shine in her raging golden eyes.

Mad with pain and rage, any injury forgotten now despite bites that still bleed, Jeadagh crushes and rends spiders with speed that no human eye could follow. A dozen or more, gone in the space of seconds, and still the Fostern Fianna snarls and growls, wanting to kill _more_.

Fights-For-Hope was right next to Luke and gets back to him just as quickly. He stomps idly with his legs and counts on the power of his spirit to get him through without too much damage, he kneels forward hard, slamming his legs down on whatever spiders may have been under him and what might have been on his legs, and grabs at the back of Luke's legs. The glow of the Mother's Touch flows into the wounds on the legs of Jame's pack elder. ~Mother! Give us your breath!~

Fat-Ripper's still not used to combat, and it shows. The fear which had been in her eyes moments ago has transformed to anger as the combat proceeded, and then into rage, and finally she just goes apeshit wild Mad, moving faster than she ever has in her life, biting and slashing like crazy at the small critters. She barely even cars if she hits anything. She just smashes and snaps, smashes and snaps, mad as all hell.

Rags begins to march back up the distance he had fled, before he decides that approaching a mob in frenzy would not count among the sanest things he's done, and keeps a wary distance, an eye on the other Garou even as he stomps on spiders, their mass making seeking for them to kill easy.

The young Get of Fenris' senses are blurred as she bursts into a frenzy. Battle-worn, the Philodox mashes the spiders into a gooey, sticky mess as she stoops them good. The frenzy-ridden crinos makes sure there is nothing to identify of what the spider spirit. The actions that the young cliath are taking, however, are begining to show signs as her lungs breath heavily. A deep, growling huff sound is emitted time and again from her massively broad muzzle.

Brings-Buffalo bleeds freely now from a thousand and more small bites, but doesn't seem to care about anything other than killing. Red-eyed and frothing now he continues his weaverthing massacre, stomping and rolling and worrying any creepy-crawly unlucky enough to come within reach of his jaws.

Between Luke's earlier howl and the combined stomping and slashing and frenzying of the garou involved, the spiders look to be down to about 50 in numbers now. Though there are likely many more tha may soon return once the effects of the howl-induced fear wear off.

One spider after another falls beneath Guards-The-Flame's viscious slaughter of wild attacks as she races from side to side, eyes intent and angry, swollen with the rage within her heart. She howls out madly from time to time, nearly tripping over her feet.

Final-Hour rattles with an angry howl to watch his dragon vanish. Furious, and desperate, he swings and swats and slashes at the little monsters, rage fueling his actions. From his numerous wounds, blood flows like an ugly sace all over his coat.

Snake-Bait's howl is twisted by pain, then Rage as he's dragged down. Holy fire burns in his chest, and he lunges at the horde of spiders, snapping, clawing and smashing the little eight legged bastards to pieces.

Fat-Ripper is bleeding from a thousand wounds but she doesn't seem to care. She'd be howling like mad if she had time to between biting the spiders. She can barely even see, now, blood in her eyes, letting her Rage and her instincts do the fighting for her. She can't even keep track of where her limbs are, they're moving so wildly in the sheer need for violence.

Fights-For-Hope is in the hispo form quicker than a flash from an explosion, leaping at Judges-Souls next to him in the group he grabs at her legs in his muzzle and repeats the healing trick, sheer force of will flowing with the gift to heal his tribe and packmate.

Three-Blades flies around in a blur, spittle and spider slime covering the area around her as the ragabash kills, eats, kills and eats some more. Sixteen spiders fall to the no-moon who currently has no wits about her as she attacks without inhibition or regard for her wounds and surroundings.

Jeadagh starts to turn on his packmate at the touch, but at the sudden easing of the faint dull aches that can be felt even below the frenzy and the continuing bites from the spiders, he is able to exert at least _that_ much control of the frenzy -- kill the threats/sources of pain, ignore the rest. Still moving with superhuman speed, the Alpha of Scourge shreds and crushes more than a half dozen more of the things.

The frenzied, feel-no-pain garou, though incredibly reckless and dangerous, may have turned the tide of the fight in a burst of blinding rage. At least, that's what people might say so long as they don't end up attacking friendly combatants. There's only about 8 spiders left, though there are more visible off in the distance as they start to regroup.

Tskilegwa pages to the room: If you're at 7 levels, you drop unconscious or can opt to rage heal. Let me know if you rage heal to stay up.

Eight left? Three down. Guards-The-Flame looks to be on her last legs as she continues to rip an tear, snatching up a trio of spiders that bravely get near her, splattering their guts across the floor.

Snake-Bait kills and kills, accounting for four more spiders, managing to hang on to just enough control to avoid frenzying. ~Fight or run?~ he howls, spotting the incoming onslaught.

~ENOUGH OF THIS!~ Fights-For-Hope roars and with rage granted down to him from Luna, almost seems to stride coolly, but with a bluring rage-driven speed through, working to finish off the remaining eight spiders.

Brings-Buffalo winds down like a clockwork toy: his movements slow almost painfully until his legs give out and he splays on the Umbral ground, panting heavily, flanks heaving as his eyes rolls up in his head. From the look of the blood-spattered ground around him, he's not getting up anytime soon.

Fat-Ripper takes one plodding step, then another. She can't see to know if there are any more spiders, but she can't even work up the will to care anymore. She slumps to the floor; her eyes close.

Rags moves around the mass of frenzied Garou, leery of being caught in 'friendly fire', as he checks for spiders unaccounted for. He stops to squint into the distance, his lips moving as he estimates their numbers.

From afar, to the room, Tskilegwa arbitrarily decides that there is a puddle nearby that allows people to reach back through. Otherwise there's gonna be a lot of dead Garou very soon.

Final-Hour coughs blood, hard, with sticky ooze in it. The Fang's white coat is no more, turned black and red and yellow from his blood and spider gunk. His eyes flutter and he starts to teeter, but a surge of rage keeps him from collapsing altogether. He snarls thickly, and snaps a glance out over the battlefield for his septmates.

Rags turns from his census to shout a warning howl. ~More! More are coming!~ He looks over the ravaged Garou, and adds ~We can't take them all. Leave, and fight another night!~

The Get Elder, now that the local threat is but a painful memory, looks about himself. ~Everyone, back to the realm... we put a big fucking dent in them tonight and will return with a better plan next time!~ As he calls this out he steps to the nearest 'downed' body near him and sets his hands upon wounds to heal them, hopefully enough to leave on their own.

Judges-Souls gives a rough shake of her senses as she snaps out of frenzy. She looks around her, looking for the ones in the greatest need to be transported back towards the other side of the realm.

Bristling over with rage, Guards-The-Flame decides that the fight hasn't left her yet, and thus', she still screams her rage and continues to thrash about, searching for another moving target.

Brings-Buffalo looks to be in need of transport, being all sprawled over the umbra like a lazy hound.

Three-Blades flomps as feels her strength waning through her wounds, but only for a short time as the Beast inside her rages out. The Gnawer re-animates, snapping up onto all fours with fur standing on end. With the first wave of spiders over though and no immediate victims in sight, a smidgeon of conscious restriction comes back to her. She blinks, fuzzy at the edges but no longer hungry for blood. She'll have to reassess, but has little time to do so when the howl to retreat calls out. She looks to her packmate, who is still frenzied.

Jeadagh doesn't look at all ready to cross back to the realm. Oh, no, he looks much more like he's about to go tearing off after all those other spiders. Hard to say how badly hurt he is, since he's not showing any signs of feeling pain, but that doesn't mean too much for a Garou in frenzy. He's certainly covered with enough blood to make him look unpleasant.

Snake-Bait steps in front of Alicia, calling once more on one of his Gifts. ~Alicia-rhya, STOP IT! WE HAVE TO GO!~ He throws Persuasion in behind his words, trying to call her attention to the fact that there's nothing Weavery left to kill.

And the lucky winner /is/! Olga! James sets down to heal her prone form and the wounds close quickly this time, many of them only evidenced to have been there in the first place from the blood still covering her fur. Consciousness follows the disappearance of the wounds and the Get helps her up, pointing to a puddle nearby, ~Back to the realm, now!~ hoping the barked harsh order with authority behind it will get through the haze she must be feeling.

As Snake-Bite starts to scream at her, Guards-The-Flame roars out and instead, decides to say Hello to his guts, whirling out with her claws, flashing them swiftly through the night.

Snake-Bait throws himself backwards, ignoring grace and speed in favor of survival. ~FUCK!~

Rags heads over to Leonard to find if slapping him will get him to get up and move. ~Game's over. The tilt's sign's up.~ He picks up a limp arm of the Wendigo's and drags him unceremoniously to the puddle.

Three-Blades sees her packmate ripping through her tribemate and finally acts. With what she can muster, the ragabash rounds the Coggie galliard while she is distracted with Snake-Bait, and throws a hell of a punch towards the back of Guards-Flame's head.

Snake barely manages to duck Alicia's sudden attack.

Fights-For-Hope stands now, as Alicia nearly disembowls an ally he looks around, able to bring his healing powers to bare once more, he checks about to see if there is anyone else that will need healing lest they be left behind.

A now-homid unconscious Leonard makes like a sack of potatoes as he's dragged by Reggie.

Final-Hour shudders with a wet growl, and starts toward Brings-Buffalo, who had first dashed out to save Wyvern their dragon. Seeing the Uktena tend to him, he nods his head, a short upward jerk that flecks blood. He turns to the Get-girl, Judges-Souls, who lays strewn. Even so, as he scoops up her body, he looks beyond to Jeadagh raging. He howls lowly.

Fat-Ripper slowly rises to her feet, trying to pierce through the haze she's in. Slowly her situation sinks in, and she looks over to see the hordes of spiders in the distance. She doesn't need to be told twice, and limps over to the puddle. She looks into it and stares at her reflection, gathering the will and spirit to shift.

Luna's Armor? Might as well be a piece of kleenex. Yi coldcocks Alicia in the back of the head a little harder than anticipated and Alicia flies forward and flat onto her face on the ground, unmoving.

While Guards-Flame is busy trying to eviscerate Snake and the others are focused on getting the fallen to safety, Jeadagh makes his break toward the remaining spiders, letting out a howl of challenge. Not at all bothered by the fact that it's one against dozens, maybe even hundreds. That part of his brain isn't active at the moment.

Thunk. Guards-The-Flame hits the ground, feeling the back of her skull crack as her eyes sink into the back of her head. As she tumbles head over feet, she reverts back into her homid form and lays in a puddle of mud, sprawled out, bleeding profuesly from a dozen or so wounds, and badly from one of her ears.

One of Alicia's eyeballs pops out, still hanging by the retina.

James runs forward as Alicia goes down, he sets down on his knees with his hands on the back of Alicia's head. Applying the last of his healing energies for the night he concentrates on bringing the Coggie elder back to the world of the conscious. ~LUPUS AND HISPO! NOW! GO GET LUKE!~ The order is very obvious that it is to /everyone/ capable and present.

Snake-Bait tumbles and rolls, scrambling like mad out of the way. ~Oh fuck.~ He scrambles back to his feet and, what the heck, tries it again. ~Luke-rhya, WE HAVE TO RETREAT!~ Another dose of Persuasion goes towards the Fianna as the Ragabash gives chase.

Three-Blades takes a moment to stare, in growing fear, that she's just slain her packmate. It doesn't matter now. The ragabash gingerly bends over her victim and pushes the eyeball back in with one pad of her clawed finger. Then, she scoops the galliard fostern up without a word and carries her towards the puddle.

Rags drops Leonard on his face besides the puddle, and turns about to count how many more to drag, when James' order startles him into shifting immediately into lupus, and he bolts after the Fianna, with the vague thought of hamstringing him to drag that one back as well.

Fat-Ripper looks up from the puddle before she can start shifting, startled at James' command. She shifts into Lupus, and runs as fast as her legs can take her towards Luke. Judges-Souls is dropped off at the puddle, where she sits and breaths heavily. Her breath is rackled with low growls as she watches the others take after the frenzying Fianna.

Final-Hour lays Judges-Souls by the puddle before he turns, sinking a painful shift into Hispo. His eyes all the while are fastened on Jeadagh, watching him race out gloriously-- though in vain-- to the army of spiders that await them. He runs.

Assuming Jeadagh covers the distance to the enemy before he's intercepted, he'll tear into the spiders, clawing and crushing with rage-fueled fervor. Not that it really matters how many he kills, since there are still more where that came from.

If Rags' lupus speed can reach Luke in time, although he's slowed by his pains, and not trusting his ability to leap, he'll trip Luke on his face.

Once his energies have passed into Alicia, James appears to be... perhaps dimmer to those who see him in the umbral moon light. He joins in the chase to retrieve his elder, using the full speed possible in the lupine form.

Fat-Ripper rushes at Luke as hard as she can. If she gets to him before Rags takes his shot, or much after and it's apparent it's failed, she'll try to get underfoot and trip him.

Apparently, talk is too cheap. Snake-Bait drops to all fours and charges after the other wolves and mega-wolves already chasing the Frenzied Fianna. He sprints flat out, though he's far behind the others.

Three-Blades delays herself, remaining at the puddle where three unconscious Garou are passed out.

Judges-Souls manages to get herself up, stumbling up to her feet as she goes to drag those in assistance to safety. Once in safety, they will be able to get themselves all back over to the otherside of the mirror. The young Philodox does not trouble herself with what is already being handled by other Garou.

The three closest Garou to Luke try and stop him by various means, and with various degrees of success. Olga, the best-in-shape of all of them, goes to tackle Luke. Snake attempts to trip him, and Reggie, at the tail end of this assault, doesn't further contribute as the two others trip and tackle Luke. He falls forward to the ground and a spider bites his nose and hangs on. But he does come out of the frenzy. Snake-Bait takes a particularly nasty fall and sprains a leg. The fifty-or-seventy nearby spiders look about ready to launch wave two.

Three-Blades looks on from her guarding spot at the puddle, fur bristling as she sees the Garou take down their own with the spiders closing fast. She takes a few steps away from the unconscious and Judges-Souls, bitten ears up and waiting for the call to assist.

Jeadagh groans, barely able to move, though he does manage to swing an arm to swat the spider on his nose. ~Wha...shit!~ He's obviously seen the advancing spiders, ~Fall back, fall back!~

Wheezing as he catches up to the dogpile, Rags shifts up to crinos, grabs arm at random, and hauls its owner upright.

Fights-For-Hope takes on the crinos form when he nears his allies, hefting up Snaik-Bait's body like a paperweight and with that over his shoulder and the others making their own way back, starts running with the wounded back to 'base'... the worlds most dangerous game of 'tag'.

Fat-Ripper falls to the floor, having just been kicked quite unintentionally as she got under Luke, but without serious damage. She skids to a stop, looking to see what came of the attempted takedown. Once she's satisfied herself that Luke is no longer bag-fucking-mad, she take a look over her shoulder at the approaching horde, and bolts towards the puddle.

Snake-Bait howls in pain as he stumbles and falls again, wrenching muscles in his leg. Fights-For-Hope has him over his shoulder even as he draws on his Rage to heal. The ache in his leg is persistent, and he drops back to homid to make the huge Get's life a little easier.

Final-Hour cannot keep up with the flying tackle assault, limping and gored as he is. Growling thickly, he begins to back up, his eyes ever on the alpha and those who went to assist. He turns, then, as they start to come back, heading to the water that will bring them home. As he goes, panting heavily, his head is turned slightly to watch the others.

A carpet of spiders begins advancing towards the Garou and their escape route.

Three-Blades, finally, gets it in mind that the others are coming back. Rather than waste time, the Gnawer shifts to Glabro and scoops up Alicia. Then, she's gazing at her reflection, summoning what remains of her spirit and willpower to help her get the unconscious Coggie and herself across.

Rags eyes warily the advance of spiders, and after people gain their feet, he lopes on all fours, in Crinos, towards their route of escape.

Jeadagh scrambles up, albeit with some difficulty, and remains on all fours, not entirely trusting of his balance should he rise to two. Moving at the best speed he's able toward the puddle.

Fat-Ripper slows down after her initial blast, now loping along, keeping pace with the injured Jeadagh. She looks over at him and wonders if it might be best to carry him in Crinos.

As Rags approaches the pile of limp bodies, he forswears slapping, and, an evil grin gracing him, he stabs his claws into Leonard's buttocks to get the Wendigo to wake to make the crossing.

When James is close to the group he yells out over over the odd skittering sounds of a mass of large spiders behind him. ~Cross over damn it! Now!~

As the badly battered group of Garou reach, that agonizing 30 seconds of time it takes to pass through, the spiders continue advancing. They swarm about your feet and get in a last few stings and bites before the garou are suddenly released back into the realm. Fortunately, no one gets stuck in the crossing--Gaia was with you.

Once back on the other side, James melts down to lupus, and falling to lay down on his side, chest rising and lowering mightily as he fights to regain lost breath.

Yi crosses over slowly, with Alicia still in her arms. Immediately coming into the Realm, though, the feeling of gravity and blood loss are most apparent. Her head swims and she stumbles a bit, but manages to maintain a semblance of balance. "Those who are the worst hurt, can take refuge here."

After Leonard passes out again, Rags stuffs him on the back of the truck, head propped on a spare tire. He weaves a path to check on the other Garou, tossing off as an aside to Olga, "Think we left a mess back there. You better go clean that up."

"I c'n prolly get supplies 'r somethin'. Bandages. If y'need 'em," Craig offers, flopping down to sit on the grass.

Olga slumps against the wall, more than a little shaken, falling into Homid form. She actually smiles at Reggie's comment, or at least doesn't glare at him.

Final-Hour stumbles into the real world, bleeding copiously. The pads on his paws are torn, and hair has been chewed off his legs down to flesh, and worse. He attempts to stay upright, limping with a paw up. His eyes are glazed, and drops of blood hang in the brow-whiskers.

~I can assist the wounded with methods not involving the gifts of luna.~ Jamethon says as he finally takes on the homid form, "But first we need to get to a place people can rest without worry." He says getting into the drivers seat, "I hope... I remember how to drive. Like riding a bike, right?"

Tskilegwa pages to the room: Okay. Those that rage healed get permanent, obvious scars from about two dozen bite marks on their legs if they were stomping, arms and legs if stomping and clawing. Craig, who rage healed twice, gets twice that amount and loses a point of Appearance from it.

Yi glances over as Final-Hour stumbles down. Summoning up some of her voice again, the Gnawer no-moon remarks outloud, "Ok. The rest of you who are returning to the farmhouse, Alicia's car is this way." She can drive. Really.

Once Jeadagh has had a chance to rest a couple of minutes, he shifts down to homid. A little unsteady on his feet, but able to drive if need be. More than willing to let James handle that, though.

Reggie pages to the room: Rags will just call his brother to go pick him up at the zoo, so more space in the truck for others.

[The Garou drive (in dangerous condition) back to the farmhouse.]

Farmhouse: Hallway and Living Room
All doorways in the front part of the house lead to the front hallway, a J-shaped area with the short tail starting at the stairs, the front door hitting the bottom curve, the doorless opening to the living room halfway up the long side, and the also doorless opening to the kitchen and dining room at the very top. The hall has a simple wooden floor, and decorated with a generic print of soft-colored flowers hanging on the wall to the right of the front door, and a tall table sitting under the print which serves as a place to toss keys. A closet under the stairs serves as a place to hang coats or to toss shoes. The doorless opening to the living room is halfway up the side of the hall's J, and the word cozy might spring to mind when looking into is, as it seems to radiate comforting vibrations. A long couch sits against the south wall beneath a large bay window curtained only by sheers that manages to obscure the view in but only filters the day's light. A variety of out-of-date magazines are strewn atop a low coffee table; more neatly presented are the plethora of books filling the small bookshelves which line the eastern wall. Three chairs sit about the room, focused inward, to allow group conversations. Large floor pillows are stacked in one corner of the room, except one, which lies carelessly in the middle of the floor, apparently left out the last time it was used.
An opening in the northern end of the hallway allows access to the kitchen and dining room at the back of the house, while carpeted stairs twist up at the other end of the hall, leading to the second floor. A door at the base of the J lets out to the front porch.
(Non-Garou, please "+view curse")
Contents:
NOTE: Current Farmhouse Residents (Updated: Oct 16)
Obvious exits:
Kitchen/Dining Room Front Door STairs

Alicia's car pulls up, getting parked at a wobbly driver's test FAIL-grade worthy angle. Yi opens the driverside door, goes around the other side and makes to carry Alicia into the farmhouse.

Craig crawls out of the back, pressing torn off rags of his shirt and jacket to various still-bleeding patches of skin here and there.

Slumped against the passenger side of the car and bleeding like a stuck pig is Alicia, her face pressed up against the window, smearing it with blood.

Leonard is in the back of Luke's truck.

Olga looking relatively decent with only a few deep gouges along her legs, gets out and stretches, arms on her back. "Anybody need any help getting in?" she calls out.

Luke can barely manage it, as roughed up as he is, but he gets Leonard in a fireman carry, bringing him inside. Trying to get up the stairs to the infirmary is more than he cares to try, however, so Leonard is put on the floor, cushioned by pillows.

"Wanna hand, Yi?" Craig asks, shoving the rags into his pockets. "I c'n prop her up a bit." The boy moves around to the right side of the car, leaning against the bumper.

Leonard flops around like a ragdoll. He's really living up to the epithet of redman what with all the blood.

Yi rasps out to Olga, "Help anyone." The Gnawer catches Alicia before the galliard can fall out of the car, and grimacing in pain she bulks up to Glabro before sliding the Coggie up. Glancing over to Craig, the Gnawer simply nods. Any help at this point is appreciated. "Be careful too." Once they're all inside, she assesses the wounds of the others, particularly of the unconscious warriors.

Alicia gets dragged around by Yi, her body slumped over in her arms, barely breathing as her lungs come out in raspy gasps.

Final-Hour can walk, despite having stiffened up from the ride over. Like an old dog, the animal slowly, slowly, slowly gets out of the truck on a stumble. He pants, lolling a bloody tongue. His glazed eyes watch the movement of the others.

Craig supports one side of Alicia while Yi gets the other side, and once they're in, the boy abandons the Gaian's side to rush to the second floor. It was here before... He returns shortly, carrying a heaping armload of bandages.

Olga quickly sees her place and runs over to Final-Hour, getting under one of his arms and lending her support in Glabro.

Yi props Alicia up, but glances around. Finding Jamethon with her eyes, then Luke and the others, she waits until Craig comes down with bandages and nods approval. "We will need to get some bins of water and clean cloth to clean the wounds before bandaging."

Olga bends down, lifting Final-Hour up into her arms, cradling him like a baby. "Uf," she says, "you're heavy." She teeters around a bit, grunting a little as more pressure is put on her legs.

Being one of the less-wounded, Craig heads into the kitchen next. Pots clank and water runs as he gets what the other Gnawer requested. "Dishtowels 'r off limits, right?" he calls over the din.

Final-Hour rattles with a dizzy growl when Olga picks him up, hurt, and not wanting to be touched, or having his pride infringed upon. But the big plains-wolf isn't really about to bite her, pained though he is. He growls uneasily and licks his bloody chops, trying to keep his dignity intact, at least.

Jamethon removes a flask and some pouches of herbs from his jacket, and the once professional in chinese medicine gets to work.

Luke heads upstairs, returning a few minutes later with a couple of first aid kits from the infirmary. They're at least somewhat useful. For himself, he's just going to stay out of homid form once he leaves here, and let his natural healing ability do its work.

"Whatever is clean," Yi calls back hoarsely, feeling the slime of spider still in her throat somewhere. Fighting gag reflex, the ragabash sets her charge down, a bloody hand placed on the wall to steady herself.

"Yeah, yeah," says Olga, "calm down. Sorry if I'm getting over familiar but we don't walk too good. Say, we haven't been formally introduced yet, 'ave we?" She's in quite a chatty mood right now, with no concern for the fact that Final-Hour likely isn't. "I'm Olga, Olga Sergeevna Borodin, or Fat-Ripper if you like. Cliath Theurge of the Bone Gnawers." Blah, blah, blah.

Craig returns, balancing bowls and pots of water in his arms, carrying dishcloths on his head. "If y'want, Yi, I c'n...uh...take over. Wash th' wounds. If y'got somethin' else y'want t'be doin'," he comments, setting the bowls down carefully and doffing his towel-pile hat.

Yi blinks a couple of times at the odd site of Craig first, before nodding and excusing herself briefly to get to the bathroom and feel awfully sick.

Jamethon uses the contents of the flask, natural water from the Caern mixed with some ground herbs, to disinfect wounds. He grunts at Yi, "Hey Yi, wait," if she turns he tosses a second flask to her with a statement to use it as a gargle.

This one is Final Hour. A warrior. The wolf is slow in conveying information. Though he would never admit it, the aid is appreciated; he doesn't have to carry himself around on torn feet and stiff legs. Final Hour. Yes. This one is called that. If Fat-Ripper pleases-- he grunts huffily, despite himself-- place him down.

Clunk. The flask hits the ground before Yi can catch it. Painfully, she bends and picks the flask up from the floor, noting the many bites on her legs evidenced by the blood darkening her clothing. "Thank you," she replies to Jamethon before stepping off to the bathroom. Hork.

Luke sets to work patching up Leonard, since his packmate is down and unable to shift at the moment. Granted, he's no doctor, but he learned first aid in Basic. He can at least do a decent job of applying bandages.

Craig dunks a towel in some water, then starts daubing at the gory mess that is Alicia. "Didn't figure on spendin' a Friday night doin' this," he comments to whoever might be listening.

"She doesn't," Olga says, "but he's darling for offering." She teeters her way up the stairs, with quite a firm grip on him. She opens the door with her back, pausing to slip off her shoes. "Quite a battle, eh?" she asks, continuing in, looking for a place to rest him. "Oh, look at me, I've taken off my shoes. Didn't need to do that; habit, I guess."

Yi returns after awhile, looking worse perhaps but feeling a lot better. The ragabash offers the flask back to Jamethon, pretty much emptied. She nods her appreciation weakly, before gazing over at Craig daubing at Alicia.

Jamethon moves over to Leo, and offering a grunt and then a quiet nod to Luke motions to the Wendigo's body. "I can care for him... Could wake him now, but I'll wait till he has strength, knowing his pride, he'll want to walk out of here on his own two legs when he wakens.

Luke scowls after the Gnawer. "Quite a battle, yes. One that our _acting_ Alpha sent us on totally unprepared. If I'd known we'd be walking into that level of resistance, we wouldn't have gone unarmed." Stepping aside to let James take over.

Jamethon takes the flask back idly, shaking it with a grin, "Damn... I'll have to make a whole new batch of that stuff. Takes a while to cleanse each ingredient. But I hope it helped Three-Blades." With another grunt he sets to cleaning Leo's wounds and dressing them with poultices, bandages, and care.

Craig offers Yi a completely dry towel, continuing his careful cleaning. "Don't know what else t'do here," he says, looking up at the green-around-the-gills Yi.

Leonard grunts as the stringent does its work, blinking blearily. He starts, eyes widening as he remembers just what was happening.

Luke says "Patch people up, make them comfortable. All we can do for now. By tomorrow people will start being well enough to be up and moving again."

Yi clears her throat, bowing her head some to the Get theurge. "I will return the favor by helping you, if you should need it." The offered towel is received gratefully, used to wipe off water from her scarred and still partly bleeding arms and face. She too reviews in mind what happened just a short while ago. Red haze - that's about it. She shakes her head and then looks over at Alicia, who she does remember hitting on the back of the head. Worry cloaks her.

Jamethon places a reassuring but firm hand on Leo's chest. "Shhhh... calm yourself. We are all safe. You made it back with the last vestiges of your strength. You were brave and strong, Warrior... you endured where many others would not in your place. Now relax and take a healing form..."

Leonard blinks again, the words taking an inordinate amount of time to sink in. Then he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. It takes him awhile to shift, and sounds really painful, but in the end he's in glabro.

Jamethon looks over towards Yi, "Good, should I need to communicate with a spirit that values stealth, I will call upon you."

Craig leans away from Alicia, taking a moment to clean himself up a bit. "Shirt's fuckin' ruined," he says to himself as he wipes down his arms. He returns to cleaning up Alicia's injuries, wincing in sympathy as he takes a look at the back of her head and neck. "Fuck."

Luke makes sure any curtains or blinds are closed, just as an added precaution, then slumps into a chair. "First things first, we're going to get everyone back on their feet. And then Renee and I are going to have a _little_ talk."

Yi nods in reply to Jamethon, peering over at Leonard when the Wendigo wakes. She smiles some, glad that the galliard is ok - or going to be. Then she crosses to Craig and her packmate, towel in hand. "I hit her too hard, I suppose. But are you ok?" The ragabash peers at the other Gnawer no-moon now, and his bloodied frame. Yi adds in comment to Luke, "That is how our city's Umbra is, nowadays."

Craig looks a little wistfully at the pattern of already closed puncture marks and scars that lace his body. "Might be, if th' damn things'd just stop bleedin'," he remarks, pressing his spare towel over one arm. "Definitely gonna scar up."

Jamethon grunts with a bit of a feral smile to Luke, as that fades he mentions, "Yes yes... but first things first... we need another war party to go back there, prepared this time, and we need to kill the spiders that were left over. There were less left when we left then the amount we originally killed. We'll need some toys. Dedicated firemen's boots, tied off at the knee. A decoy talen to attract some of them away from the main mass of Garou. I'm worried about fire... last thing we need to do, is discover fire doesn't hurt them. Then we'll have a bunch of /flaming/ spider spirits swarming all over us. But we need something. Hell... a shit load of water balloons might help."

Jamethon seems lost in thought on the ideas of water balloon talens.

Yi looks at her own arms, where the punctures will accompany her old scars that criss cross over her. Shuddering once at some vagrant memory, the ragabash puts a hand to her neck. An eye glances sidelong at Jamethon. "Water balloons?"

Luke looks dubious. "Water balloons? As for fire, there's no reason they'd be immune to fire. Not much is. But the dedicated boots are a good idea. And we don't have to limit ourselves to _just_ fire. A few good earth talens, just designed to crush things, would do wonders. If we hadn't lost it, I was planning to fall back to the perimeter, and call down electricity spirits on them. No power grid in the zoo, so I couldn't do it from there."

Craig rocks himself to his feet. "Fuck. I gotta sleep," he announces, scooping up a couple of bandages. "Scream if anythin' leggy starts in through th' windows." With that, he heads upstairs.

Leonard drifts off into sleep, or unconsciousness, but manages to keep his current form. So yay.

Jamethon leaves his revery for a moment when Yi talks at him, "Um yes. Water balloons with elementals bound to them. Talens that drown whatever the water gets in the mouth of. I've heard of them being used before, but they require pure water and powerful elemental spirits. And elementals... can be difficult to reason with."

Luke says "Spirits don't breathe. You can't drown them unless they materialize."

Yi bids her tribemate good night as he climbs the stairs, though she herself remains watching over Alicia. She thinks on what James describes, before Luke echoes what she thought. "What is to say the electricity spirits wouldn't be part of the Weaver's side as well? Although, water and electricity together..."

Jamethon shakes his head at Luke, "Of course they don't breathe. But even a Spirit can be convinced that it does. For something that doesn't know what 'drowning' means... imagine the feeling of drowning, that won't go away. They would be disoriented, easy targets. There are all kinds of methods to deal with them though. We just need to plan something."

Luke chuckles at Yi. "I wasn't going to give them a choice about fighting on our side. But the combination of the two elements could be quite an effective one, yes."

Jamethon thinks on the matter for a moment. "It is dangerous. Spirits of water and lightning meeting together. Very dangerous. One or the other is even dangerous, we definatly should not do both. Not to mention, the two are /lothe/ to meet each other. Often times a ban proposed by a water elemental is that we will /not/ allow it to meet electricity."

Yi stretches halfway, stopping when the pain shoots up her arm. "At least we are lucky... the spiders didn't shoot any of their webs to hinder our movements." That would have been disaster. "Fireman's boots may not help much, if the spiders' fangs are longer."

Luke adds, mostly to James, "Talens of calming. To help keep us from frenzy, and to keep the rest of you from being hit so hard by the Banshee's Howl."

Yi can't help but smirk at Luke. "You should have warned us of that gift, Rhya. It was such a terrible sound... few things I have heard match it."

Jamethon nods to Luke, "Water, actually, would be good for that as well... but there are spirits of the essense of calm at the Fountain we may be able to get help from. They are lazed and difficult to speak to though. And yes, especially with me /right/ behind you... it rang through my ears like nobodies business. As for the firemen's boots... I think they would help. They do a good job for people going through burning buildings with all kinds of dangerous conditions. Things falling on them, splintered wood flooring glance off them. Again... I don't know, I'd like to speak to an expert on such things. I don't know any firemen. At the very least, they should soften the impact of the spirit's attack."

Yi considers this, before nodding slowly with wheels turning in her mind. "Firemen's boots shouldn't be too hard to find. It seems I will need to concentrate on mental strengths as well. I don't remember anything after a certain point in the battle, and afterwards when my anger cleared."

Luke says "It was ugly. I remember, if through a red haze. We all snapped at once, that's the odd part about it."

Jamethon looks to Luke, the sleeping people, then back to Yi. "I think it best you be told now, because I'm sure you will hear of it soon. You were in the grip of the thrall. That taste in your throat... is that of the tens among tens of spiders you consumed."

Thrall. So that's what they call it over here. Yi still doesn't remember, but she does know just what she expunged in the bathroom. The Gnawer ragabash is very quiet, eyes averted downwards as she stares at a point just in front of Alicia. A long moment passes, before she tilts her head in a fraction of a nod. "I didn't hurt anyone did I?" "Besides Alicia, that is," Yi follows with. "I remember that."

Jamethon grins at the question, a calming and perhaps caring expression from the healer. "No... just a whole lot of tasty spiders. I suppose it is lucky that you were surrounded with enemies to take your spilt over rage upon, rather than an ally."

Luke says "We were lucky, there. Very lucky."

Jamethon turns to Luke and grins, "Speaking of needing to calm. I know what our rage can do to us. But the sight of you, alone, charging into a mass of those little bastards the same size as the mass we just destroyed... I can admit now that it was a little... comical?"

Luke shrugs, not seeming to find it terribly amusing. "Frenzy will do that to you." Jamethon lets a ghost of a grin remain on his face. "Rage is like love... it gives us strength, but is dangerous in ways we can not predict as well."

Yi doesn't grin, however. Even if she doesn't remember that, she remembers other terrible times. "Then, that is the good news," she murmurs, twisting the towel in her hands. As Jamethon describes the sight of murderous frenzy as comical, the no-moon looks up towards Luke. "Always a challenge, to find balance between the monster inside us all and the calm awareness of our being."

Luke nods at Yi. "We'll have to be more careful next month. We can't afford another failed revel. And we _will_ be ready."

Jamethon looks to Luke, "You mean to wait a month before attacking those spider's again?"

Yi narrows her eyes briefly, as if an amusing thought creeped into her mind and then left after its mark was found. The side of her lip curls up faintly. "It is said the average person eats a few spiders in their lifetime..."

Jamethon can't help but give a gutteral laugh at Yi at that.

Luke gives Jamethon a _look_. "Hell, no. What I mean is that the _next_ revel, which will not be the zoo, will be more carefully chosen. And we will know what we're up against, if I have to scout the place myself."

Jamethon nods to Luke then with a narrowed eye looks to Yi. "Well, our soon to be fostern Shadow-Walker here should be a great scout for just that. Eh, Yi?"

Yi in turn has one of those looks. "Should it come to it. I would rather not predict my success before the egg is even out of the chicken's butt, eh?"

The large Get elder shakes his head, stiff neck cracking a few times, "Now now Yi... the last thing we need is pessimism. And chicken eggs covered in shit."

Luke says, "We'll see. _Someone_ will scout it, whether Yi or another of our new moons. Or a group of them. And if anyone gets shit on my eggs, there'll be hell to pay." Cracking a very faint grin there at the end.

Yi's mood lifts some, buoyed by Jamethon and Luke's words. "Maybe next time, we will have the Revel in the woods. I don't know about you two, but trying to drive when one's body is on fire with pain, is more difficult than I expected."

Jamethon shrugs at the matter, "Fenris gives us gifts to ignore what little pain we may feel. But yes... I hope next time our target is in a more convenient area... not that anything is ever convenient for us."

Yi has to concede the point to Jamethon there. "The gifts which you can ignore pain with, must be very useful in the battle." She smiles fleetingly, even showing a bit of envy there.

Luke says "Oh yeah. There are times when I've really wished for it, I know."

Jamethon nods to Yi and offers, "I would see about you learning it... but I find that those with the marks of thin moons upon their births, don't take to the gift."

Jamethon adds, "Just as those who are not born under the shadow moon would not be adept at learning gifts of stealth."

Yi shrugs at that. "'You never know until you try,' is that not the saying?" She smiles again. "But I already owe you a favor for the medicine."

Luke listens to the exchange quietly, since he doesn't have much to add.

Jamethon turns to Luke now and offers, "I will leave soon to seek out one to learn the ritual our caern desperatly requires. I may leave without further word if need be, so... consider this that warning."

Luke says "Send word through Wyvern, if nothing else. The Gatekeeper can't just vanish without notice."

Yi blinks at what Jamethon says, before looking between the two theurges. "Which ritual is this?"

Luke says "Opening the Inner Sky, which is the rite by which we ask our totem to come and join us in the moot. It doesn't need to be performed each month -- a normal moot rite will usually suffice -- but if it's not performed at least somewhat regularly, it would be a bad thing for all of us."

Jamethon nods to his elder, "If our bond has grown enough to our totem spirit, I wouldn't think of doing otherwise. And Chimera will know... I would not leave without her blessing."

Yi considers the rite-talk, knowing that she doesn't have a clue about it. "I thought Raul was performing the rite, but I guessed wrong. Then, when you do go to find a teacher of the rite, Jamethon, I wish you luck with it."

Luke says "He did what he could, but it wasn't the rite, no. It seemed to please the Lady of Mirrors, in any event."

Yi smiles faintly in memory of the performance the Gnawer theurge had done. "It was interesting. The riddle was fairly easy to solve, but the Wise One enjoys such things I guess."

Luke nods. "It was a good beginning, I think."

Once it becomes clear that the other two are ready to rest, Luke heads upstairs, shifting to glabro as he goes in to check on his packmate. He needs to get into a healing form; this standing around in homid isn't cutting it.