May 2005 Revel: Egg Tender Banes
5/25/2005
06:50 PM
Logfile from GarouMUSH.
Currently the moon is in the waning Full Moon phase (84% full).
Currently in Saint Claire, it's a sunny day. The temperature is 79 degrees Fahrenheit (26 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in from the north at 12 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 30.11 and falling, and the relative humidity is 28 percent. The dewpoint is 44 degrees Fahrenheit (6 degrees Celsius.)
It is currently 18:26 Pacific Time on Wed May 25 2005.
Yi's GMRoom(#4030R)
Umbra: Dark River Bridge
This looks like a scene from a vile dream. You stand upon a bridge of black metal, flaked with huge patches of rust. Holes in the floor of the bridge threaten to drop you into the murk below if you misstep. Great tangles of webs surround the girders, filled with tiny pattern spiders sluggishly wrapping more and more of the structure. The river below you is a black, bubbling morass of vile fluids, a seeming flow of toxic mud. The eastern shore is shrouded in shadow; the plant life there dead and shriveled. Bizarrely, the western shore is as brightly colored as is possible in the twilit Umbra, shining with the greens of plants and the gleam of icicles, as if it is the only living thing still struggling to survive here. A large fountain on that shore seems to be the source of its brightness.
The bridge stretches westward toward the greener shore, and eastward toward the dark shore.
From Center of the Caern, Flood-of-Flame can be heard to howl, ~Garou of the Hidden Walk! Those who would fight for your Mother, those who would earn Glory and bathe in the blood of your foes, join us here in the Caern! Steep your claws in the flesh of the Enemy! Tonight we Revel!~
Rags reacts to Flood-of-Flame's question with a resounding roar, an affirmation of his readiness to slay. Scars crowding each other show his experience. His claws, shinier than ever, glinting in the light of the moon, show his eagerness to extend that experience.
One by one, the Garou reach through the Gauntlet and cross over into the Umbra a few hundred yards downriver, making their way up to the wretched scene by the bridge. Flood-of-Flame leads the group with his tail in the air, exuding confidence and offering a few encouraging chuffs, lest the group lose heart in this toxic landscape. He turns to look out among the gathered Garou once again, eyes narrowing as he assesses them. ~Rags, you are most experienced here tonight. Forath-Ripper has also survived many battles. We cannot split up into teams, as our numbers are too few, but I expect you two to lead by example.~ He turns to the Ragabash Walker. ~You are new here at this Sept. I welcome you to the fray and this chance to prove your competence.~ Finally, he looks to Calls-Spirits and Howls. ~I know and trust you more than anyone here. To fight at your side is an honor... and a pleasure!~ His lips pull back into a lupine grin, bloodlust obvious, and then he turns to complete the final stretch to the bridge.
The full moon rides high in the Umbra heavens, shining clear and bright. The contrast between heaven and earth, however, strikes the spirits of all around. The Umbral shadow of the Columbia runs heavy with water-spirits, but none of it is see through. The night-tinted surface is black as volcanic glass and just as shiny, luring the eye and encouraging the spirit to approach and drink at one's own risk. Over the river spans the bridge, covered in old and new webbing from pattern spiders, and looking decrepit and menacing enough to add to an overtone of something off. Something wrong. On the eastern shore of the river, the mud and sparse Shadow grass come together, mixing sticky with slippery surface and squelching underfoot. Clearly, the air hangs with an oppressive feeling of taint despite being further from St. Claire's Umbral side. Further to the east as one looks towards Kent Crossing, the night almost gets darker and menacing.
Calls-Spirits, now that they're done travelling, shifts to his war-form. He is now armed with a Crinos-sized greatsword, with double hilts that curve like the crescent moon. With this sword he salutes Flood-of-Flame silently, holding it aloft so that it glints in the Umbral moonlight.
Dances Shadows is quiet and reserved, though the underlying tension that has been present all through moot is now very clear to see. She nods only once to Flood-of-Flame's words in her direction, then rolls her shoulders and scans the bridge.
Howls-For-Glory trots along behind his Alpha, disgust at his surroundings made obvious by the way he avoids breathing deeply. Seeing the nature of the place, he reaches into himself to bolster his natural resistance to toxins. When Flood speaks, he chuffs. ~A pleasure for everyone but the Wyrmspawn!~ After shifting into the warform, the Fianna falls to watching the area about them.
Along the way, Flood-of-Flame stops to scrape his claws against an oil-slicked iron beam, jutting crazily from the ground like the rib bone from a hulking, rotting carcass. The obsidian blades tipping his fingers glint in the moonlight.
Rags alertly watches the scenery for surprises, or for headstrong cubs escaping their elders to join the fight, as he travels in hispo with the group. He sharpens his claws against the rocks, honing them to a keen point, after taking the warform.
On the way Kills-Wisely finds a suitable rough surface to sharpen claws upon, a high pitched whine coming from them as they are scrapped across.
Snarling to himself, Forath Ripper strides slowly and casually through the Umbral terrain, a surface of rage oozing off his tall, large muscled frame. His ears slant backwards as his nose sniffs the air at times, eyes narrowed. He glances over to Flood of Flames for a moment, then growls out. ~No one dies here tonight.~
As is her normal routine during the larger moons, Finds-Stories flies the Umbral skies. Keeping an eye on the Shadow of Kent Crossing and less frequently, the city. It doesn't take long for her to spot the gathering of Garou and she begins to circle the area, little more then a black blob in the sky.
Of those who care to look a bit beyond the surface of the water by the bridge, stuck upon a supporting pillar, a clutch of oily, slick looking jelly textured eggs have been attached to the metal post. Each one the size of a bowling ball and shining like one freshly waxed, they gleam sickly under the rays of moonlight that strike their surfaces. The waters of the river lap up against the eggs in seeming rhythm, and one notices the eggs continuing down into the water to hint at more beneath the opaque surface. If one looks even closer, the eggs themselves pulse quietly underneath their purplish grey exteriors. It takes a bit of wading through the shallows to get to them, for those brave souls that choose to do so.
Flood-of-Flame narrows his eyes as the group draws near the foot of the bridge. He scans the area and quickly spots the bane eggs -- they're rather obvious to the child of Magpie, who is used to looking beneath the surface of things, so to speak. He holds up a clawed fist, and rumbles, ~Hold. Some Wyrmthing has laid its eggs here. There is probably a mother, an egg-layer, nearby. Maybe more than one.~ He points to the clutches of eggs, in case anyone fails to spot them right away.
The taint of the area, if anyone happens to decide to use Sense Wyrm or just have a sniff, is... well... obvious.
Dances Shadows drops to all fours, continuing on a few steps in that fashion until she's close enough to peer down at the eggs. The Walker Ragabash sniffs once, her nose wrinkling, and then her large, lupine head swings upward to scan the underside of the bridge, looking for any sign of the 'mother'.
Howls-For-Glory notices the eggs, and drags to a stop. ~Disgusting!~ He listens to Flood's assessment, hackles rising. ~If the dam is here, she's hiding well. If we had a spear or something, we could burst them from a distance.~
Rags looks warily about the landscape and watches the sky. He growls a warning about something he can't quite identify being above him, then at Flood-of-Flame's declaration, Rags' attention turns towards the water, though he keeps an ear turned skywards.
Calls-Spirits' nosepad wrinkles and he coughs in digust. His ears are up and his eyes bright and hard as he scans the water.
Kills-Wisely eyes the wyrmeggs with an obvious reaction, hackles raise and growls come violently. At Howls words he reaches towards a dark patch under fur on his arm and pulls away from it, with the blur of dedication, a well-sharpened stone dagger. He then repeats this on his other arm. The blades are dwarfed by his crinos hands, but seem sizable and deadly in their own rite. ~Give it a try?~ The question has a good deal of enthusiasm behind the idea in the tone.
The banks of the river are mud and grass, more the former than the latter. A bit away from the bank, a few pebbles and minor sized stones do poke around out of the ground. The bridge itself looms high overhead, about the size if maybe a bit bigger than its realm version but far more decrepit with holes that pose as a rather perilous drop if one were to fall through from above. Webbing covers the bridge itself, with small pattern spiders and their tiny red glowing eyes visible as pinpoints.
Approaching slowly towards the water line is Forath Ripper, nose sniffing the air, eyes glancing back and forth quickly in a swift manner. ~Wait.. wait.~ He growls to the group, then turns his eyes upon the pillar, his voice taking a quieter tone, almost hushed. ~This looks familiar.~ He flattens his ears some, creeping to the water slowly, but not too close. He continues to eye the dark depths, staring intently.
Iron-Eyes nods to Flood, and pauses to scan the banks, his pupils going slitted for a moment as he looks.
Flood-of-Flame eyes Kills-Wisely with a nod of appreciation. ~You may not be able to retrieve them when the time of battle comes,~ he warns, though his expression shows he approves of the strategy of trying to burst the eggs with projectiles. He turns away from the riverbank to scan the adjacent hillside. ~For those who have nothing to throw, we may find some rocks to try and burst the eggsacks with.~ The Gaian Ahroun nods towards his packmate, Howls-for-Glory, then towards Iron-Eyes and Dances. ~You three can gather large stones to hurl at the eggs.~ He turns a cautious eye to Forath-Ripper. ~You may bring the mother's attention before we are ready. Can you think and remember with your feet on land?~
Howls-For-Glory responds simply to Floods instructions. ~Yes.~ The Galliard moves away from the shore, looking over the area for rocks of any respectable size to try to burst the eggs without having to trudge into the disgusting Umbral version of the river.
Rags turns away from the eggs, when he sees that others are examining them, and turns his eyes back towards the skies, searching for black dots that may turn out to be unwanted bats with deafening screeches. His hackles are raising, as he watches for an ambush from above.
There is atleast one place dot thta circles the group, as Finds-Stories continues to watch the Garou gathered along the shoreline.
~There~ The no moon suddenly says, vision pointed to the far off water. ~That might be your "mother"~ Iron-Eyes chuffs a little, joking manner fading quickly. ~Big fish. Fourty or so feet away.~
~Flood of Flame, have you heard of the Drattosi?~ Forath Ripper asks as he continues to sniff the air, his eyes darting about swiftly, then back to the eggs. He doesn't stray too close to the water, almost as if he was 'overly' cautious about getting his feet wet. He bares his claws, his breath coming out a bit quicker.
The eggs continue to pulse, with the keener wolven ears of the crinos hearing soft squelching as the waters lift the eggs and retract away in gentle ebb and flow.
Calls-Spirits lets others handle the eggs for now, turning his gaze slowly from shore to water and back again. He looks more closely at the water when his tribemate speaks, eyes narrowed as he tries to pick out what Iron-Eyes saw.
Dances Shadows pauses in her turn for the stones, then follows Iron-Eyes' gaze, her own eyes narrowing as the fur along the back of her neck hackles. She too, is looking for what he saw.
Flood-of-Flame sniffs cautiously in the direction Iron Eyes is pointing. ~Drattosi?~ he repeats the Get's word without looking at him. ~Tell us of the Drattosi, Forath-Ripper. And speak quickly, we may be meeting one soon.~
The shadows of the riverwaters twinkles under the umbral starlight. Its surface is placid as ever, as the others look out over the surface.
~Very few things out there that I will piss my fur yellow for, and they are one of them. They trick you with illusions, then sap your strength and spirit with but a thought. They look like giant grabs with many pincers.~ Forath Ripper speaks quickly. ~They live beneath the earth and the lakes, mostly lava. They create.. traps. Step on the wrong spot and you fall in, like trap door spiders. They are big. Once they get ahold of you, you pray, a lot, because they do not let go. Duatha Bloth killed one four years ago. Took an hour and one pack mate's life.~ The Get speaks, growing even tenser at the subject. ~Fucking Skripi.~
Rags keeps his head turned towards the sky, watching that dot that doesn't seem to disappear or grow any bigger, however it might be moving.
Howls-For-Glory comes back, having gathered what he can find. Fortunately, he's in time to have heard Ripper's description of them. ~If these are the same thing, there must be dozens of young Drattosi!~ He hefts the rock he managed to get in his paw. ~Should we strike at an egg and hope the mother comes ashore when we are ready?~
Iron-Eyes keeps his eyes on the thing he saw, keeping slitted and Falcon-like. ~Maybe not our creature then...~ he says, after listening to Forath's description.
Calls-Spirits grunts softly at Forath Ripper's description. ~He has the truth of it,~ he says quietly. ~I fought one once. It killed me,~ he adds flatly.
Flood-of-Flame frowns deeply at Forath-Ripper's description. ~Let us look more closely. If that is what we have here, we are outmatched and must retreat.~ The Ahroun doesn't sound too thrilled about that prospect. He gives Calls-Spirits an odd look, as he moves down to the riverbank and the nearest cluster of eggs. Wading into water as far as his knees, he outstretches an arm quickly and attempts to pluck an egg from the pilings with his claws. He'll only keep his arm outstretched for a second - he's not too keen on being prone above those murky depths.
Dances Shadows grits her teeth. She straightens back up, flicking her tail around to her front, where she begins to pluck fur away from where it's loosest and longest. The fur is gathered into a sizable clump. ~Bait?~ she suggests, even as Flood-of-Flames sticks his arm out.
~I have your back then, Child of Gaia.~ Forath Ripper says as he follows after, wading into the water despite his tense look. ~And if you know the gift of resisting pain, I would suggest using it if I am right.~ The Get of Fenris for the first time, looks.. troubled, worried. He turns around, back to back with the Gaian, claws at the ready, eyes glancing at the murky water.
The eggs squish and squelch worse than the muddy riverbanks, the very sound sucking at ear drums as the Wyrmfoe manages to detach one of the eggs. The river water is colder than ice, and feels thicker than usual water should be as it touches the skin, seeping into the fur. Nothing comes to distract the Garou from performing their cleaning up of the area. Nothing prevents the waters of the river from moving along in its steady, swift current.
Kills-Wisely growls lowly at the description of the Drattosi, not to be thought of as a coward it seems he adds, "We die, it dies. We fight well.~ That offered, he turns the blades around in his large hands and lowers to the glabro. He pulls one arm back and with a an aiming born of years before he was even a cub of practice, he readies to launch both blades at unattended eggsacks.
Flood-of-Flame grimaces and shudders at the feel of the ice cold river of sludge, and wrinkles his muzzle in disgust as he gets ahold of one of the eggs. Holding it gingerly, he hurries out of the water and nudges Forath-Ripper to do the same. Then he plops the object on the riverbank, and gingerly slits the eggsack open to expose the bane embryo inside.
Rags' neck aches from all the craning upwards, and he stretches with looks about at the rest of the warparty and at the leader's work at the eggs. He goes up on the banks, further from the water, to look for a good-sized stone usefable as a projectile.
Jerking swiftly around at the nudge, Forath Ripper starts after the Child of Gaia, backing up slowly as he continues to keep his eyes upon the water, growling in a loud hiss.
Dances Shadows abandons her fur gathering and once more drops to all fours, watching the two Garou coming back to the bank with a wary gaze.
Calls-Spirits steps up to Iron-Eyes, still trying to see what the Ragabash sees. ~What does /our/ monster look like, hmm?~ he asks quietly.
Iron-Eyes keeps eyes focused out and about, searching for anything that might endanger the two Garou. ~It was a big...fish. I saw a fin. Not quite the size of a whale.~
Howls-For-Glory has a stone readied in his hand, crouched and ready upon the banks to throw or fight as need be. ~Perhaps it is an illusion, perhaps not.~
The egg, closer up, glimmers with sticky jelly-consistency as the Garou can see. Inside, a small crustacean-ish creature twitches with life, eyes closed with tiny claws, legs, antennae... and as the Wyrmfoe slits open the egg to expose the creature, its tiny eyes snap open. The baby bane launches itself out of the goo into the face of the Wyrmfoe, emitting tiny screech of pure mini-Rage as it latches onto the ahroun's face with its claws and bites down on his eyelid.
Howling out quickly in rage, Forath Ripper roars out. ~Hold still, I got it!~ He reaches out with his paw, trying to grasp the thing and give it a good crush before jerking it away from the Child of Gaia's face. ~God damn fucking Skripi!~
The moment the creature makes its attack, Kills releases his blades on two of the sacks and turns to find the biggest fucking rocks he can get.
Calls-Spirits' head jerks around at the sound. He raises his sword to a guard position and again scans the water. ~Ready yourselves, the mother will come soon.~ He glances back at the other Garou and snarls, ~Crush some more if you want her to get here faster.~
Flood-of-Flame roars out in pin when the bane fetus chomps his eyelid. He starts to try and pry it off himself, but his claws merely click against the Get's and hinder Forath-Ripper's aide. He has to call upon his willpower to stop, and let the Get pry it off. ~Gaia's tits! Mother of a Wyrm-sucking bastard charach ass-licking...!~ The Gaian lets out a steady string of curses until the lobster-sized bane is extricated.
Howls-For-Glory startles at the volatile reaction of the embryo, and even more at Flood's...novel form of cursing. With a howl, he lobs the rock as hard as he can into the thickest cluster of eggs he can find. ~Drown and die, spawn!~
Throwing the lobster like thing to the ground, Forath Ripper stomps on it, releasing a loud 'crack' beneath his weight. "Not Drattosi, just plain Skripi.~ He sounds relieved.
Dances Shadows snarls a quiet ~Fuck~ as the baby bane attacks. She crouches even lower on the bank, muscles tensing, paws spreading to make a spring easier. Once again she's gone back to scanning the underside of the bridge.
Iron-Eyes stifles a small crinos giggle as he hears the torrent of expletives, guessing what's going on, his eyes not leaving the water beyond the two. ~Great~
Rags has just gathered up a Crinos-fist-sized, slab-sized rock, after passing over another as not quite as appealing, when the howls start, and he turns adruptedly towards the egg-handlers, rock raised and ready to throw. His muscles tense as he finds no target for the rock, but one small bane being the bane of contention between Brom and Flood. He looks about for more than this fuss.
For those still scanning the water's surface, a bit closer to the bank around thirty feet away, the mystery fish-fin of Iron-Eyes' reporting appears, breaking the water and disappearing again. The Mini-Bane snaps at the Wyrmfoe's fur and skin once more but misses as Forath-Ripper pries it off, the baby screeching to high heaven in protest before it gets Smashed by the crinos'ed Get. Both blades from Kills-Wisely hit their marks, one of them sinking in easily and slicing open the egg to release a newly awakened baby baneling, the other only getting stuck in the egg's jelly itself like an incompetent sperm. Howls' rock bounces off the egg's protective gelatin, dropping into the water. Then, the black waters begin to rise, slowly at first and then getting faster and faster, swelling in levels until the banks of the river are soon immersed in umbral river water. Those in crinos find the waters splashing right up to their thighs, and those on four legs are nearly immersed in water up to their chests or chins.
Calls-Spirits' eyes widen in recognition as the water level rises suddenly. ~The charm of the flood!~ he shouts. ~She comes!~ He starts backing up a bit to get into more shallow water.
Loud racious caws and corvid screams fill the umbral air, as the mystery fishfin breaks the water. All the noise seems to be coming from the black form that has been circling the group for some time now.
Howls-For-Glory growls and starts to backpedal as the river swells its banks. ~Whatever it is, be ready to tear into it!~ He finds a fairly stable stance in as little of the sludge as he can.
Flood-of-Flame pages to the room: Another indication that we are posuers, we can't even spell it. Not one shred of authenticity... um, Cole? Aren't we... pack posing now?
Likewise, the rising water yanks Dances Shadows' attention away from the bridge quite fast, and she scrambles backwards, eyeing the water dubiously.
Rags clenches tightly to his rock, and wades heavily through the water to find shallower water higher up the banks. His progress is slow, as he watches the water for fins, jaws, or other surprises.
Iron-Eyes blinks out of his gift, eyes returning to normal, crouching, and ready to leap as he remains fixed on the approaching creature. He glances to Calls. ~Told ya~
Though its arrival is well expected, Big Momma's arrival is still sudden. Out of the water bursts a huge 20-foot long Monster of a bane. A chimerical beast of nightmares, the egg-tending bane looks like the horrible bastard lovechild of an orgy between lobster, fish, centipede and a T-Rex for size, sporting a thick looking blackish purple shell that swirls with some oily looking colors. Two huge lobster-like claws clack open and shut noisily as the bane rears its long-fanged jaws and head out of the water, the liquid running off to splash back down and merge with the new depths. The beast's deep red dorsal fin fans out in a threatening display, and its screeches piercingly in the air, dissolving into rapid clicks that send vibrations shaking through the very atmosphere itself. It's angry, and it seems to know just who it was who killed its babe. Long, whip-like antennae covered in short spikes flail around and lay into the Garou, slapping Brom across the chest and flaying a large red slash against his chest.
The waters only swell to a crinos' mid-thigh, stopping there. The ground that is indeed underfoot is harder to gain traction for, the Garous' movements impeded also by the water. The beast's main body remains submerged, with its legs and fanned tail sticking out through the surface.
Flood-of-Flame's claws and fangs flash in the Umbral light as he tries to cut through the water, his usually nimble body slowed by the sludge. He gives a snarl of Rage as Forath-Ripper is struck. ~Flip it over on its shell!~ The Gaian Ahroun tries to make his way to the fish-thing's rear, tries to grab two of the crustacean-bane's legs and yanks as hard as he can, attempting to pierce claws through exoskeleton, with an intent to throw the thing off balance. Kills-Wisely silently shifts up, a blur into the crinos once more. A rock he could heft in two hands only is held up high, and tracking it a moment he lets the rock fly with rage driven force towards the creature's head, aiming a little high to target where the antenna are attached. Growling as he is whipped across the chest, Forath Ripper doesn't pause as he lashes forward, leaping out of the water with a push off of his mighty legs, looking to drive his claws into one of the arms which weilds a pincer, aiming to rip it off. His claws gleam brightly with the stone altered blessings, hoping to shred deep in a number of brutal attacks. Howls-For-Glory rears back in surprise as the bane arrives, but is quick to respond with violence. A blood-curdling yell escapes him as he forces his way towards the beast through the sludge.
Calls-Spirits keeps his eyes on those whips, sword held at the ready. ~Iron-Eyes, see if you can get around its claws and grab onto one the whips and I'll cut it off,~ he says quickly to his tribemate. ~Someone else see about securing the other one.~
Iron-Eyes mutters something that doesn't sound very polite at his Elder, but attempts to do as he's asked, moving around to the bane's right flank.
Rags' head snaps up as the mother appears. He struggles to move in the water, anywhere in the water, but the going is slow, and his stance isn't secure on the muddy footing and deer water. He throws his rock at the large target that's too tempting to let be until he can get to it.
Dances Shadows crouches low yet again, this time to twist around and push off from the bottom, striking out like a very furry, very bogged down swimmer, aiming to circumvent the bane's head and work around behind it. As she goes, her form begins to blur.
The water around the bane immediately becomes frothy with activity. The Wyrmfoe is hindered by the water, splashing across seemingly downhill as the rear of the bane is quite a bit back from its head. He grabs for one leg, finding that the creature's shell hardens at his touch. For all his yanking though, the ahroun's strength fails to do any more than if he had tried to pull a giant pine tree out of the ground. Michael's rock is heaved hard, the rock managing to contact not the antennae, but the side of the bane's head and bounces off harmlessly. It turns upon the Wendigo and screechsnarls, shooting one of its giant pincers forward and latching onto the ahroun. Sharp spines pierce the Wendigo's belly, dragging him closer. Forath surges forward, only just managing to jump out of the water and grab onto the other pincer arm of the creature. Though, similarly, the Forsetti finds himself unable to yank the limb out so much as tug upon it like a stubborn child to his parent's legs. Cole finds face to chest of the bane, and its head looms above him held high in the air.
The Fangs and the Walker all come closer, getting just their fur more wet with all the splashing going on.
Reggie's rock is tossed as well, but the Uktena's aim is not as lucky. The rock sails over the creature's partly-submerged back, plunging into the black waters and being lost below.
Frustrated, Forath Ripper keeps one grip on the pincer, giving it a tug downwards, trying to use his weight to jerk the monster forward so that he can swing upwards with his other claw, looking to drive his talons in for a swift uppercut. He howls out loudly. ~Its armor is thick! Try peeling it off!~ Flood-of-Flame, however, has a different idea than Forath-Ripper's strategy. ~No good! Too much time, energy wasted! We must find a weak spot! Try to see if the belly is soft!~ He doesn't let go of the thing's legs, this time using them as a brace as he focuses his energy. The Gaian Ahroun lifts himself up and aims a powerful kick up and under the thing's belly with both feet. Howls-For-Glory takes advantage of the opportunity afforded to him by his fellow warriors, and tears into the beast as best he can. He strikes again and again, three times in the span it takes to blink an eye. His focus is intense as he tries to rip to the heart of the matter. Kills-Wisely tosses his head back with a pained howling. Then like left in the vacuum of space the rage explodes from him, his jaws and claws go to latch onto the protruding shell around the joints of the claw and all his being goes into shattering the claw around him.
Calls-Spirits chuffs as his plan fails to come to fruition. He wades in closer, flashing the blade at the monster and trying to get its attention. ~Here, you beast!~ he calls to it, hoping to distract it from crushing anyone else. ~Here!~ He strikes with his sword at a clawed arm that holds Kills-Wisely, seeking for a joint or some chink in the armor.
Jervis closes in as the whips stay out of reach, seeking to get close enough to pry through the plates to something softer underneath.
The Walker Ragabash's aim becomes clear once she manages to paddle her way close enough to the monster. Dances Shadows reaches out with both clawed hands, attempting not to strike at the bane's back or side, but rather to latch her claws into the curves and joints of the carapace and climb upward, as fast as she can manage.
Rags snarls as his throw is off the mark, and he puts fresh energy into wading through the water towards the overgrown lobster, making a beeline towards a leg closest to it to try its strength and claws on peeling the shell off the leg.
Brom's claws slash against the the monster's chin, the feeling surrounding his claws utterly alien as he strikes not flesh or bone, but pure spiritual essence. His tugging is to no avail however, and soon in enraged roar the creature turns upon him instead of Michael and sinks its huge jaws into the Forsetti's backside, pulling the heavy crinos all the way off and tossing him away. Auggie's claws contact only more shell, clearly the spirit's armor is heavy, but his razor claws pierce into the bane, striking true and causing it to screech again. Michael's efforts to free himself by striking the claws again and again lead to sore hands, but the claw releases him in favor of grabbing for Cole, who is pierced through the guts.
Tobin is nigh ignored in insults, but his sword contacts with the creature. It *clangs* somehow against the shell, the weapon vibrating with impact but not cutting through. The Walker ragabash has easy footholds as she finds spikes and crevices in the bane's armor to climb up on. Reggie grabs for another part of the lobster's shell, sharp claws peeling off a chunk only to reveal more underneath. Just as Jervis closes in, however, the Fang is quite suddenly Yanked underneath the surface of the water, reappearing a few feet further down the bank as a Second lobster bane rears itself out of the water, clutching the ragabash just barely by a leg. Its form is translucent, watery, but quickly forming into a hard shell of its own.
Flying through the air, Forath Ripper lands heavily into the water, going under the surface for a moment, before popping back up with a look of pure anger. His back is torn to shreds, dripping red blood down into his brown an gray pelt. He starts sloggishly heading back to the fight, growling. Howls-For-Glory lets out a scream as the pincer spears him through the midsection. With a grunt, he forces himself off the claw through the agonizing if expediant course of pushing backward. Using his closeness to his best advantage, he tries to strike at the thing's eyes with a sure slash of his claws. Flood-of-Flame, having found a successful strategy, keeps locked on to his giant fishy prey, kicking rapidly like a cat, attempting more precision now that he's opened the creature's shell with his claws. He shakes with concentration, apparently fighting to keep control. Kills-Wisely looks about as pissed to be dropped as he did to be held by the claw. The puncture wounds on his midsection drool red, and then its comes. A mighty war cry that is born of frenzy rips out of the Wendigo and he leaps up to the green glow of the beast's eyes, claws of all four paws flying in wild strikes and jaws snapping out insanely to take out that which has earned his inner demon's wrath.
Rags treats the leg like these Russian dolls, nested within each other, and digs down with sharp claws to pull off the second shell to find what's in the mystery center.
Dances Shadows continues to climb straight for the back of the head, moving as fast as she dares on this precarious perch. Once there, she braces herself as well as she can between the two giant antennae, tenses, then strikes downward with single-minded fury at the target of her efforts--the bane's eyes.
Iron-Eyes resurfaces, coughing up water, and growling ~ GREAT! JUST GREAT~ as he realizes his situation, and quickly goes about clawing and biting at the monster's claw joint, all the while intent on struggling to get away from it.
Calls-Spirits snarls in frustration at his inability to harm the bane, but then his attention is pulled to the sudden disappearance and reappearence of Jervis. ~No,~ he says firmly, backing off from the first bane. He roars and his form blurs with Rage as he charges the second one, aiming a stab at its exposed chest.
Red hazes over the Wendigo's vision as all he sees in his frenzy is the spined aquatic bane. The ahroun charges recklessly, all claws and teeth as the Wendigo latches on to the chest of the creature and starts tearing and chewing away. The armor of the spirit is so hard, the ahroun's fangs crack and break, but he keeps right on chewing. As Cole slashes again at the claw, the galliard feels the grip of the terrible lobster tighten against his midsection and slowly lifting him just a clawlength off the muddy ground beneath his footpaws. Auggie kicks like a desperate child on a kicking board, and lays open another wound beneath the surface, only to have the spirit's antennae lash him a hard one right across the muzzle to the bone in an aftermath of the struggling. Brom reaches this carnage, finding the lobster bane to be looking a bit more tore up and see through than before...
Jeren climbs All the way up to the head, and like a surgeon, or a really bad child, jabs her finger into the lobster's bluish-green eye. It howls with anger, head tossing, but unable to buck off the ragabash. Reggie Finally manages to pull off not just the shell, but the entire leg altogether. The force of his strike tosses him back into the brackish black water. Jervis hangs like a wriggling worm on a hook, claws and fangs swiping and biting but missing altogether. That's when Tobin comes charging forward like a great furred knight, sword armed and readied. His strike with the greatsword hits true, running straight into the bane's chest halfway down the blade. In the Daddybane's rage, it drops Jervis into the water, and siezes the theurge instead with both claws, retreating into the riverwaters with its prize.
Upon finally reaching the battle, Forath-Ripper leaps once more after sloshing into the water, looking to drive his Fenris honed claws into the back of the creature, looking to 'land' on it. Giddy Up! He attempts to get a good grip around its neck and sink his claws in from behind, tearing upwards to open its throat. Howls-For-Glory feels himself nearly being torn in two, and fights like a demon as he wriggles, thrashes, strikes and a dozen other verbs to get free of the claws. It's a visible effort to concentrate through the pain of his wounds, but he pries himself away. Or tries to. ~Nngg! Fucker!~ Flood-of-Flame abandons precision and launches a full-on attack of the thing, launching out of the water to claw along its back, the dorsal side of its body where he inflicted the claw wounds. Both sets of razor-sharp talons and a Crinos maw of fangs errupt into a flurry of Rage, as the Ahroun attempts to pierce through the thing's armor and tear the bane in two.
Dances Shadows snarls as she strikes true--and this noise, rather than the bane's howling, seems to set off her, until now, well leashed instincts. She digs furiously at the eye with both sets of claws, trying not only to utterly destroy the organ but to dig right down and past it.
Rags flails wildly as the water swallows him, and he swallows some amount of water before recovering his footing. The soggy Uktena splutters and spits water out, before he rejoins the fight, swinging an arm, claws extended, to rake the bane along the side where it lost its leg.
Jervis coughs sitting up in the water. ~God...dammit!~ He looks to the departing monster, his tribemate in it's claws. ~Calls, you fucking...moron!~ He says, making all attempts to follow and counter-attack.
There is a great thrashing and commotion just beneath the surface of the water, the black waves churned into a frothing foamy mess as Calls-Spirits battles the monster. The alien shrieks of the bane are mixed with snatches of the Theurge's roaring when they occassionally breech the surface. The fight is short, but the seconds stretch on forever, especially when the waters grow calm again.
The huge Get leaps up onto the lobsterbane, causing it to shudder as the Get's claws pierce, daggerlike, into the shell of the beast. Cole thrashes again, opening up his wounds some more just before he is let go of. Michael's battlecries echo with the high pitched skrees of the bane before it altogether suddenly turns into liquid. The claws of all the garou attacking the first bane slice into water as the creature splashes, formless, and melts into the flood at their feet. For long, countless seconds, the air that was filled with cries suddenly is still.
~The Skripi has been sent back to hell!~ Roars Forath Ripper in victory as he lands, arching his back a bit, then turns his eyes sharply about, searching. ~Where did the second go?! Where is Calls to Spirits?~ He asks with a growl, shooting a look over towards Iron Eyes.
Howls-For-Glory falls from the creature as it dissipates, splashing down into the shallower parts of the water. His midsection is a mess and no mistake, but he's still gamely dragging his way towards the new 'shore'. ~Good...~
The thrashing doesn't permit Kills-Wisely to calm just yet, and he struggles against the waters to first get to his feet, and then reach the underwater fight. As the waters calm though, so too does Kills-Wisely find his frenzy leaving him. He stands there, huffing and covered in blood both foreign and domestic. ~Dead?~ is his only question when the breath returns to him to make it.
Dances Shadows splashes herself, as the head she was standing on is suddenly liquid. Hello, Ragabash cannonball. Anyone close by will likely get soaked, if they aren't already. Growling, shaking her head, and spitting water, she emerges a moment later, squinting around for the second bane and the missing Garou at both Iron-Eyes' and Forath-Ripper's calls.
Flood-of-Flame's attack on the Bane becomes a bellyflop into the pungent water when... well, it just isn't there anymore. The Ahroun sputters, growls, and struggles to his feet, looking confused for a moment. Then, his ears flatten back, and his eyes narrow. ~Calls-to-Spirits...~ he rumbles, searching the surface of the water. His eyes flash briefly to his packmate in concern, before searching for the Silver Fang once more. ~No one was to die tonight,~ he growls, forcefully, as if commanding this would make the Theurge reappear somehow.
The force of Rags' swinging through his claws cause him to fall forward into the water, through the area that the creature would have been were it still there. He treads forcefully in the water, spluttering and spitting out more inhaled water, to recover his footing and look for the eneomy.
Iron-Eyes trudges out madly after his lost tribemate, till the water threatens to cover his waist. Panting, he collapses onto his knees in the riverbed, realizing the fruitlessness. A pause, then he emits a loud, piercing growl of anger. ~HE WAS MINE! YOU WERE MINE! YOU CHEATED ME, YOU WORTHLESS PIECE OF SHIT!~
Howls-For-Glory pushes his head up from the water at hearing Flood's words. ~Dying?~ He scans the crowd hazily until realization strikes him. ~No.~
Dances Shadows snarls, striking the surface of the water in sudden frustration. ~The eggs! Kill the eggs! Bring it back!~
WHAP! Forath Ripper swats Iron Eyes hard in the back of his head. ~To your feet Silver Fang, your brother hasn't been lost yet! The fight is not over. Destroy the eggs, get its attention back. Stand ready to strike once more and watch your feet. Eyes and ears open.~
Howls-For-Glory is largely useless at the moment, and knows it. He manages to push himself to his two feet, one arm serving to hold his wound shut as best he can. ~Dances is right! Bring it back! Anger it!~
Another minute ticks by, with Jervis' angered calls and thrashing through the water churning it up. Just as the ragabash is about to step one more pace into the water, the newmoon is pushed up and out of the water, sent flying once more out of the river and splashing into the shallows of the bank. The river erupts a second time as Tobin is seemingly spat out of the depths, impacting with a sickening crunch against one of the bridge supports. He crumples into his human form as he falls into the shallow water and lays still, limbs twisted like a rag doll that was carelessly dropped. The second bane rears out of the river, thrashes into the shallows, looking ready to continue the fight, but only for a moment. Its legs buckle and it crashes to the ground, dead and dissipating quickly. Tobin's greatsword is sunk to the hilt in the back of the thing's neck, the rest of the ichor-stained blade protruding from the monster's mouth.
Just as the second bane bursts out of the river, from behind Rags a large, ripped up pincer seizes the Uktena and the first bane again lifts its head above the water. The red dorsal fin displays itself with wet spines as Rags finds his back bitten into heavily.
Forath-Ripper is only unbalanced, as the Fang newmoon is tossed out of the water.
Dances Shadows's head jerks around, first as the second bane reappears tosses it's captive, and dies. And then the first returns. This time her snarl is more of a shriek--she thrusts herself furiously through the water toward the head, striking at anything bane-like that she can reach.
Stumbling to the side, Forath-Ripper glances over his shoulder at the other as Rags gets attacked. Swiftly, he whirls around and snags up the Fang's sword in his hands, gripping it tightly by the handle, then rushes forward, looking to aim a pure strike forward at the creature. ~Back to hell you go!~ He looks to aim for a weak spot, his movements blurring with rage.
Iron-Eyes snarls angrily at Forath in response, ~He'd better not be, for his sak--~ Then he is flung from the water. It takes him a moment to recover, but he then does all he can to leap back into the fray head on, his attacks--should he get close enough, aimed for where Tobin's sword has weakened its hide.
Kills-Wisely is covered in a massive spraying wave of water, and that is enough to set him off once more, almost like he never had truly calmed down. A wordless howling comes from a deep place within the Wendigo and driven by rage he surges forward to once more get into this thing. Those green eyes hold his intrest once more, and he seems to be seeking those out. He leaps up as high as he can and climbs the rest of the way to get to it's head.
Rags' yell of pain echoes across the water, and he frantically swings around his claws to clobber the bane, while struggling to keep his balance in the depths of the water.
Flood-of-Flame's round out as Tobin reappears, slumped in his birthform. With a howl of bitter, white-hot Rage, he charges towards the still-alive Bane, jumping up against the waves. ~DIE!~ he roars, teeth bared, claws extended. The first piece of Baneflesh he meets with, he intends to shred to pulp.
Drenched and shivering with restrainged Rage Howls-For-Glory tries to wade back into the fray, though his progress is agonizingly slow. Still, his claws are extended before him.
Rags can /feel/ the spirit's long teeth grate against his spine, an altogether unnerving and Sharp pain, literally. The first bane, with its huge wounds showing like black pools of void in its form, is set upon by the other Garou in crazed and vengeful attacks. The closest, Brom and Auggie, are slapped down into the water by the spirit's huge fan-like tail though their claws finally slash deeply into the spirit's essence, the shell from before almost utterly gone. Then Jeren, Cole, Michael, and Jervis set upon the bane and within a few frenzied seconds, the bane screams a final time, and topples down with a great Splush of displaced water. The bane doesn't let go of the Uktena, but its grip weakens as its form sizzles, steaming into nonexistence.
Dances Shadows continues madly striking, even when the bane has dissolved beneath her claws and teeth. ~You fucking piece of shit! I'm not finished! Come back here! COME BACK HERE!~ If water could take damage, it would be hurting right now. As it is, the Ragabash is only managing to splash a whole lot.
Tobin's body is slowly floating downstream, carried by the currents.
Tumbling once more into the water, Forath Ripper splutters his way back upwards to his feet, spinning the blade about his wrist in a dangerous expertise, holding himself up proud as he glances about for a moment, then starts pushing through the water, trying to catch up to the floating Silver Fang as the others deal with the dying Bane. ~Fucking hell, someone help me out. Shadow Dancer!~
Howls-For-Glory shudders, and steps back from the bane as it dissolves. He looks over, spotting Tobin's body start to float away. ~No!~ He stumbles awkwardly, making a grab for the fallen Silver Fang's leg.
Flood-of-Flame raises himself up from the black, sludgy water with as much composure as he can muster. He's still breathing hard, and the very essence of Rage is still upon him. Still, he manages to join in the effort to recover Tobin's body.
Rags struggles to be released, either of the bane or of the pain, but he has difficulty directing his jerky, spastic movements to any solid purpose.
Kills-Wisely falls once more into the water, hunched over hands clenched before him. When no more foes present themselves, he straights up, tilts his head back, and unleashes a victory howl, mixed surprisingly with a tone of loss.
Tobin's body is easily caught, with a few stumblings from uneven footing and necessity of doggy-paddles on some parts where the riverbank drops unexpectedly. The eggs coldly continue to pulse, one of them with Michael's knife still sticking out of it. The waters have started to recede, but it will be hours before that actually happens.
Iron-Eyes continus to tear at the flesh of the bane, in what looks to be at some points, full frenzy, some more moments after it has clearly died. ~Thief!~ he occasionally grunts, before collapsing in a heap upon it, panting. Slowly, he rises, composure regained in an eerie quickness as he wipes his maw of the gore that has splattered upon it. He then looks to where Tobin's body has being recovered.
Howls-For-Glory fights off the encroaching feelings of helpless Rage through an act of will, determined to not let yet another friend's body slip away into eternity. When it's caught, though, he collapses to the shore, panting, looking up at the Umbral sky. ~Damnit. No..he's alive.~
~He is one lucky fucker.~ Forath Ripper says as he pants hard, finally making his way towards Howls and Tobin. Blood is pooling about his body and sweeping away in the currents from his gruesome back wounds. ~Who can heal here?!~ He calls out. ~Flood of Flames, can you?~
Dances Shadows's only response to Brom's call is to jerk away from the patch of water she was striking. The pulsing eggs catch her gaze. With an obvious, singleminded kick against the riverbed, she strikes back toward them.
Flood-of-Flame lets others take over the Silver Fang's body. Frowning, the Ahroun replies to Forath-Ripper, ~I do not have the gift of healing.~ He sounds frustrated, irritated at even admitting this, the edge of Rage on his voice. ~Someone must be sent for help. Of my tribe, I know Walks-the-Middle-Road, Guards-Flame and Rifthealer possess the gift.~
~Don't kid yourself...~ Iron-Eyes hisses, froth still dripping from his maw as he makes his way towards Tobin's body. ~We are Garou. We should, above anything else, know death when we see it.~
The banes remain only for another ticking or so of five minutes, both steaming essence and dissipating into the umbral air. Tobin is, in all respects, rather dead despite the Fianna's claims.
Jeren reaches the eggs with little trouble, able to see each little mini-rage lobster baby bane growing inside. Their eyes are closed, oblivious to the death, rage and combat from before.
With a deep breath, Dances Shadows dives. She's methodical even now, though it demands an extreme amount of effort--her efforts focus on pounding each egg and its occupant to paste before moving on. This is, however, underwater, and it's also while her instincts are mentally snapping at the leash.
Rags's movements grow more uncoordinated, the waters around him a muddy shade of red, but, he gets freed of the bane's grip. He falls forward into the water, floating face down, the spinal column of his back providing an anatomy lesson. He continues to move weakly, but undirected.
Flood-of-Flame turns away from the dead body of Tobin, growling low in his throat. ~Kill the little ones! Kill them all! Don't leave one alive for this... for this...~ The whites of the Ahroun's eyes begin to show, and again he struggles to keep control, snapping at thin air.
~Fucking hell.~ Forath Ripper says, then glances at the sword in his hands after a moment. There is a frown upon his face, and he shakes his head violently, eyes narrowing. Tilting his head upwards, he bellows out a loud roar to the sky, one which is to send Tobin's spirit safely home.
Howls-For-Glory struggles to raise himself. His efforts are mostly ineffective, but he lumbers towards the shallower parts of the bridge to try and crush some of the eggs and their occupants.
As the Walker ragabash dives down into the water and opens up the jelly eggs, the occupants in each fight back. Pitifully. Like sea turtles against gulls. Yet, as the ragabash proceeds in the destruction, the eggs themselves shudder. And begin to hatch... and as if that weren't enough, the water is suddenly teeming with the miniature versions of the beasts. The Garou who enter the river find themselves bitten in all spots - no matter the privacy of the area. Even though they are able to snatch a few up and kill the not-quite hatched banelings, it seems some are already swimming off, tiny red fins breaking the surface of the water and diving down into the depths.
Iron-Eyes wades at last to a position before Tobin's corpse. Looking down on it, he sneers a little, ~Died trying to save me did you?~ He speaks with an air of familiarity, as if this is all rehearsed...or, nay, promised. There's camaradarie there, however odd. ~Bigger fool than I thought, Penis-McDuck~ He then looks to the other garou. ~Apologies, but this...was promised back when he and I were cubs together. If either of us died...the one that lived...~ Without further ado, he gives his tribemates' corpse a swift, harsh kick in the side. ~I'm done, now.~
Dances Shadows's methodical efforts are immediately abandoned once the first bite is felt. She thrashes, clawing and snapping at anything remotely baby-bane-like that crosses her vision, and possibly some things that don't.
Howls-For-Glory collapses. His eyes roll back and his muscles release. Like a puppet with his strings cut, he falls into the water, managing to mercifully avoid landing face down.
Flood-of-Flame seems on the very brink of losing it. ~STOP!~ he roars. ~They live! They're GETTING AWAY! Don't smash the eggs!~ He thrashes about in the water as he fights against Frenzy. Seeing his packmate fall seems to snap him back a bit, he makes his way over to the Fianna to prevent his body from floating away. ~Try taking the eggs to shore. Do not smash them,~ he says, calmly now, almost robotically.
~Should just set the place on fucking fire.~ Forath Ripper roars in frustration, grasping the sword in one hand, while with the other, snagging up one egg after the other, running them through with a viscious snarl. He twists the blade, watching each baby die, eyes tightly narrowed. ~One day, we're going to get smart enough to bring healers.~
Flood-of-Flame pages to the room: I forgot. Well, he's almost frenzying, not exactly lucid. ;)
In total, the clutch numbered at the start around thirty. Now, a bit under a quarter remain unhatched, with a good portion of the eggs destroyed. It is unknown how many of the little ones have escaped, but even harder to guess how many have been killed beneath the waters. And already, the taint immediately surrounding the Garou in the area seems to dissipate with the gradual disappearance of the banelings.
Iron-Eyes begins to walk away, zombie-like, his business here done. He says not a word, leaving his tribemate's body to rot.
Dances Shadows continues striking until her lungs are bursting. This only results in her surfacing, taking another deep breath, and diving again to continue the mad onslaught. She's less precise now, and her strikes have a wildness about them that hints at frenzy, but she hasn't quite gone over.
Weak splutters break the water, and Rags continues his slow, uncoordinated swim in the water, and he floats where the water takes him.
Howls-For-Glory is, for now, unconscious and does little other than bleed and wobble somewhat with any movement. There's some might nice views of his internals, though.
Stab. Stab. Stab. Brom uses the Fang's sword to destroy each egg he picks up, calling over. ~We need to collect Rags and Howls for Glory, as well as the Fang's body. He will get a proper send off back to the mother, not to be left to die here in the mud of the Umbra.~ He turns back, staring over at Flood of Flame for a moment, then says. ~We'll talk later, you and I.~ He looks calmer, composed now, maybe.. a bit.. sympathetic towards the Wyrm Foe. ~Come. Home awaits.~ With that, he leans down and picks up the Fang's body, hefting it easily and throwing it over his shoulder.
Iron-Eyes stops on his trek out to turn to face Forath as he picks up his dead tribemate, eyeing the sword he's looted. ~You plannin' on keepin' that, Hammer-Time?~ he asks, tone not at all challenging, just curious, if not devilishly amused.
~The sword belongs to the Wyrm Foe, as per the litany states. He was the war leader of this revel, and thus the spoils go to him. If he doesn't wish it, I will hang it on my wall, or give it to you, unless you're just going to throw it away.~ Forath Ripper says with a rumble in his throat. ~Or, I will learn to weild it properly and use it in his name. He fought and died as a true warrior and took the enemy to hell with him. It deserves to be used in service of Gaia, instead of lost and forgotten.~
Flood-of-Flame cradles Howl's body, doing his best not to spill his packmate's guts into the river. ~Don't wanna talk,~ The Ahroun grumps to the Get, almost sounding like a sullen cub. A little more dignified, ~I would give the sword to Walks-the-Middle. She was a friend of Calls-Spirits, and wanted very much to learn swordplay. There are many who want the sword. We will decide later. It would be dishonorable to argue about it now.~ Then, resuming his authoritative tone, he calls out in a louder, more clear voice, ~We are done here for now. We're done all we could within our powers. Collect the dead and the wounded. Rags has not been accounted for.~ He oversees the other Garou present until he's sure Rags isn't going to be left behind. Then, he begins to trudge towards the place where they reached.
Iron-Eyes merely smiles. ~Oh nonono...I wouldn't dream of challenging you for it, sir. The rapier is not my blade, not at all~ He looks down at the sword, thoughtful. ~That thing cut me more than I'll ever admit~ He looks up to Brom, smiling. ~Tobin would want you to have it, I think, anyway~
There is a slight smirk towards the New Moon. ~Like Flood of Flame and I both said, its his decision, not mine. As long as it is used for the greater good and not looking pretty as some trophy. That is 'my' only request.~ He glances over to Shadow Dancer and Iron-Eyes. ~Grab the Uktena guys, unless one of you wish to carry the Theurge back and I can get him.~
Flood-of-Flame draws himself up and snarls at Iron-Eyes. ~YOU,~ he snarls at the sarcastic Ragabash. ~Stop squabbling about that stupid piece of metal. Get the Uktena, or I'll -rip- your lips off.~ His hackles raise, and he's suddenly once again the very picture of an Ahroun on a full moon, at his wits end.
[And with that, the Story of the Egg Tender Banes concludes. The Garou have gained another victory, but in exchange with a great loss...]
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