ONS: Tainted Frog Rush
9/22/2005
05:21 PM
Logfile from GarouMUSH.
Currently the moon is in the waning Gibbous Moon phase (72% full).
It is currently 17:17 Pacific Time on Thu Sep 22 2005.
Forest North of I-90(#2354RA)
The forest is thinner here than it is south of the highway, though it is still difficult to see for far. Signs of human habitation break the stretch of woods every few miles; roads, paths, farms, and the occasional out-of-the-way home remind you that civilization is encroaching, though in this area, the battle is not yet decided. Hardwoods mix with towering firs and smaller trees, still concealing some of nature's hidden places from the nearby humans.
The forest spreads north from Interstate 90, which delineates the souther edge of this area. Marked by logging areas, farms, and other signs of human presence in places, the woods are still relatively unoccupied by humans.
Obvious exits:
23 Hawk's End Southeast Interstate 90 Grotto South
You paged the room with 'Well folks, as we know this is an ONS, my first disclaimer is that there is ALWAYS a possibility of death, maimingz, other other wacky hijinks that may result in the injury of your character. At this time, please +gm/ok Sai, and go ahead and begin RPing. We are NOT that close to the I90, it is around just about time for sunset, and give or take, we are actually not /too/ far a distance from the boundary of the northern bawn of the caern. We are not specifically /on/ the bawn just yet.'.
Evening finds the two Children of Gaia on buisness, prowling the woods in search of the territory's resident pack to speak with. Heals-the-Rift snoops through the bushes not far from her cousin, nose searching for any fresh scents to clue her in on where they may be, if here at all.
Going for a rather late run, but better late than never, Tabitha and Basil jog outwards, trying out a new route since the other one was getting rather boring. Tabitha has her eyes focused straight ahead and her hair tied up in a tight pony tail, looking a bit more stern than usual. Face flushed and sweaty, although far from tired, the girl turns to glance towards her running partner, "Been here before? I...think I'm lost."
Snaking through the thick grass alongside the other, Guards-The-Flame lets out a quiet chuff. Her nose ruffles through the thick grass at times, snuffling, then perks her ears up as she hears approching voices.
Skip Tracer is only a short distance away from the other Garou, though clearly not a part of either group. She's making her way, slowly, almost lazily, between the trees, pausing now and then to investigate whatever happens to draw her interest--a clump of grass, a passing insect, an unearthed route. She's either unaware of the others, or they don't hold any particular interest for her at the moment.
Basil doesn't seem to be too winded either, though his long hair is loose and plastered all over his fade and neck. "I've been all around here. All around." Basil starts off, huffing slightly with each stride. "You know how fucking boring this stuff is? Only thing to do is run. Besides, makes you stronger. And if we get lost, we just go back the way we came." Even though the terrain is familiar, as it gets closer to sunset, the Garou starts to become more aware of his surroundings.
One black ear turns in the direction of the sounds, but the Rite Mistress is too concerned with her current job to pay it much more than a fleeting bit of attention. Rifthealer pads up to bump her shoulder against Guards-the-Flame's, snorting slightly. I do not smell them.
"Ha! The best part /is/ the running," huffs Tabitha, "I can run forev-.." The girl stops short as she notices Skip Tracer first, then the two other Garou as they sniff about. Quirking both of her eyebrows, the girl glances towards Basil questioningly before looking back at them. Slowly making her way towards the investigating wolves, the girl murmurs towards Basil and the Garou, "What's going on?"
Guards-Flame jerks her head up quickly and lets out a reflexive growl. Twisting her head around, she stares over at the pair of cubs, then towards the three legged Glass Walker. Evening.
Skip Tracer's ears prick only when Guards-Flame growls. She turns her head to regard the two Gaians, and licks her muzzle. Evening. That said, the Theurge once again returns to her idle investigations, tail lowering slightly in the presence of the other wolves.
Basil says "If you say so. I thought the best part was getting to play around with Yi's Dreamcast. I could do that for *hours.*" He grins at her, then lifts a brow and turns his attention towards Tabitha's sight. He shrugs, but follows her all the same. "Don't look at me, I have no idea what this is about... Hello, whoever you are."
Rifthealer takes a few steps away from her tribemate to give her fur a firm shaking out. Ears pricking up then, she turns towards the two cubs and chuffs, sniffing in their direction. Have you seen the pack who sings of death nearby? She asks with a sideways tilt of her head.
The edge of the sun's blazing circle is just beginning to touch down upon the reaching crowns of the forest trees. Out here, not far from the borders of the northern bawn, the landscape is picturesque wilderness. Not even the Interstate traffic can be heard out here with the sharpest lupine ears. The quiet of the forest seems to add to that peacefulness.
Beep. Beep. Beep. Trent slowly but surely makes his way through the brush from the freeway side, taking the GPS readings from his PDA. Suddenly there is a long beep, almost like a heart-monitor going off, and he loses the satellite. The PDA squaks in protest as he smacks the side and curses quietly. "Ah well, shouldn't be too far off...." He continues onwards until he hears the sound of voices, and puts the PDA away, homing in on that. Recognizing the voices of Basil and Tabitha, he approaches with more confidence, nodding his head with a "Hey-" as he appears, and looks around to take in all present. "Wow, that worked better than I thought," he mutters. "I was only lookin for one've y'all."
Blinking in response to the question, Tabitha glances back up at Basil yet again before looking down at Rifthealer. The redheaded cub shakes her head in response, "Don't think so, we haven't seen anyone on our jog up here. Why? What's happening? Can we help?" Catching sight of the three-legged Glass Walker, Tabitha's lips twist downward slightly as she frowns, "You helpin' out too, Skip-rhya?" Snapping her head up at the sound of Trent, Tabitha tilts her head a bit in his direction, "Chief-rhya. Everyone seems to be lookin' for something."
Guards-Flame tilts her head towards the pair of cubs, lifting her tail and ears high as she holds herself in a stance of dominance. This one is Guards-The-Flame of the Children of Gaia, Alpha of Stag, Alpha of Mirror Sept.
No, is Skip Tracer's rather small and uninformative reply. She continues on, angling, as it might be noticed, away from the other Garou, though not at any sort of hurried pace. It's just as ambling as it was previously.
Basil glances over at Tabitha, lifting his hands with a sigh and dropping them. "I'm glad one of us understands what they're saying. I can barely get along with wolf talk half the time, and thats when I can see better." He blinks his eyees rapidly in an effort to get more attuned to the fading light, then turns to look at Trent. "Hey, Trent-Rhya. Haven't seen you in a while. Hows it going?" He flashes the man a smile.
Rifthealer gives a low rippling growl, the tips of her hackles raising. Amber eyes narrowing, she walks back to Guards-the-Flame's side and settles in beside her, standing almost as tall but not quite.
In the stillness of the coming night, it's hard to make out even with lupine ears. Sounds like water plopping upon leaves. Sounds like a funny echo of the way rain pitterpatters upon the landscape in a soft fall. For those in the wolf, the sound comes from a slight bit further south and east. Plop. Plip. Plop.
Guards-Flame puffs her fur out a bit and lets out a loud snuff, then settles upon her haunches, flexing out her chest some as her head cocks to one side. As her cousin in law makes his appearance, she studies him with a pair of dark eyes, then sniffs the air a few times.
"Guards-rhya," Trent greets belatedly, lowering his head in respect. "And that's 'Captain', I thought," he grins to Tabitha. "Rift, Trace, Bas," he nods to the others. With a shrug, he responds, "It goes. Just came to check on my protege'. Whatcha'll up to? Fun stuff?"
Skip Tracer ambles onward, continuing away from the others in her meandering, almost winding non-pattern. Her ears twitch a little at the distant noise, but it isn't until she's given a sprawling blackberry bush a very thorough nosing that she bothers to turn her head toward the sound, and sniff curiously.
That plopping sound gets just a little louder, a little more constant. Like rain falling from the sky... except there's not a cloud in the flaring red sunsetting sky.
Squinting, Rifthealer turns her focus towards the rain-like sound, nose wrinkling as she scents the air and ears pricking fully forward to fix on the noise. Her posture reads of attentiveness, legs and tail stiff and straight.
Guards-Flame sniffs the air a bit more, then swivels her ears around, starting to scan through the tree tops. With a loud chuff, she asks the groups. Do you hear the sound of water falling? Look alert.
"It's not that hard; maybe you should spend more time in lupus." Tabitha smirks towards Basil before she blinks at the show of dominance. Bobbing her head low, the girl murmurs quietly, "Tabitha, Galliard Cub of the Glass Walkers." Realizing just how dark it's getting with all the weird noises, the girl frowns before muttering, "Maybe I should shift as well." With that, the girl starts to kick off her shoes.
Intrigued, Skip Tracer's direction becomes more focused as she hones in on the sound, tail lifting and ears pricking in clear sign of curiosity. Not rain, is her reply to Guards-Flame, as she continues, somewhat more cautiously, toward the source of the noise.
Picking up on the responses of those already in lupus, he turns his head to Tabitha and nods to her suggestion. "Looks like that would be best," he says, and follows suit, shifting down to lupine form. He hadn't heard it, but he wasn't tuned in either. Once he takes wolven ears, he puts them on a swivel, looking in the direction of the others. Padding up to Tabitha's side protectively, he motions for her to stay with him.
Basil glances sidelong at Tabitha, raising an eyebrow. "I've never been good at it, no matter how much time I spend in wolf form. It's bothersome." He scratches behind his head and frowns at her, taking a few steps back from the woods, looking around him then towards the source of the sound. "Maybe... Maybe it's bats or something." Seeing the others shift, he follows suit down into the form of Lupus.
Then sound is shifting away. Those shifting to lupus pick up the quiet plopping sound of what ought to be rain, but instinct and obviousness regard that rain is not the possibility. These things culminate in a rustle behind the blackberry bush that Tracer noses, as a bulgey-eyed frog hops out of it and peers at the group of Garou with its spew-colored eyes, croaks boredly, and continues hopping.
Making her way towards Skip Tracer's side, Guards-The-Flame drops her head down to peer at the frog, sniffling in its direction. With a twitch of her tail, she glances back to the bush and rumbles a bit in her throat. That does not explain the noises.
Rifthealer growls her warning, fur beginning to stand fully on end and she bares her teeth at the frog, taking a few stiff steps towards it. It smells of the Wyrm, she alerts, eyes narrowing suspiciously.
It takes Tabitha a while to throw off her clothes, but soon enough the kid is naked and shifted into her lupine form. As soon as she shakes her body to stretch out the muscles and fur, Tabitha quirks her ears as she picks up the sound finally. Glancing towards the other wolves and Tabitha lowers her head to sniff as well before she starts to follow the sound. Snapping her head back at the sight of the frog in response, the newly shifted cub growls in response croak as well before following the others.
Skip Tracer play-pounces in the frog's direction--it's hardly effective, as her back leg doesn't want to cooperate, but it looks rather funny. Only when Rifthealer warns of Wyrm taint do her ears lift again. She turns her head sharply in the same direction as Guards-Flame, and takes several careful steps forward.
Sheeaghan makes a wide arc towards the others that she can hear from a distance. She sends out a howl as she nears, wondering just what might be occuring here.
The frog seems utterly ignorant of the Garou surrounding it. Survival instincts of such prey animals are known to be at least a notch higher, but then there could be other reasons. Wolf noses that sniff at the frog at a distance smell, well, frog. And a sharpish scent, not all that far from alkaline. Tracer's playpounce only makes the frog hop once more, further away. It seems headed in the direction of the receding 'rain'.
Shades-of-Gray absently pads along at Tabitha's side, staying alert to his surroundings while his mind is way ahead of him. Look alive, he advises the cub. A toad may not look like much, but one cannot tell. Half a dozen of us should be enough in number, but if things get out of control, he wants her to run back to the Farmhouse and summon others. Meanwhile, he looks more towards the bush, agreing with Guards-Flame's sentiment. Toads do not drip. It may be the effect, rather than the cause.
Guards-Flame chuffs to the roach children. Kill the toad. Sniffing into the bushes, she starts to make an arc around it, shifting her eyes to Skip Tracer. Theurges to the right, Galliards to the left.
Basil tilts his head after a moment or two, a bit more comfortable with the lupine tongue now that he's shifted down. Wyrm? A... Wyrm toad? His ears perk and he moves over with the Galliards, looking towards the sky for a minute then back to the woods. Maybe the sound is caused by many toads approaching?
Skip Tracer paws the ground for a moment, eyeing the toad. Then she gives herself a shake, acknowledging Guards-Flame's order, and starting off to the right of the blackberry bush at an almost-trot. She keeps her nose low to the ground.
Rifthealer takes a step forward like she was going to follow the fading sound, but she does not ignore her cousin's command. She stalks around to the right of the toad, pace picked up in case the creature's path needs to be cut off. An ear turns in the direction of the howl, but her attentions are focused otherwise.
Perking up her ears, Tabitha gives a rather human-like nod towards Shades-of-Grey before turning her head to glance towards Sheeaghan. Not recognizing the other wolf, Tabitha blinks at Guards-Flame before she turns towards to towards the left as well, to keep in pace with Shades-of-Grey.
The frog (frog, I say!) continues to hop on its own path, away from the Garou. The plopping sound is receding, but still there.
The elder's word is all it takes. Hoping that it is indeed 'just a frog', Shades snarls and gets his fur up, leaping after the toad with his claws out. He howls in response as he leaps, warning of an unknown source of taint and a small manifestation, saving his claws for the attack. The last thing he wants to do is taste a tainted frog.
Sheeaghan flickers her ears at the howl responded, and the Fianna remains back at some distance. She observes the area that is surrounding her instead of joining the other few Garou trying to determine the situation.
Splat. Utterly unresistant, just as the frog makes its hop away, Shades bats the hopper right out of the air. It bounces a few feet, ends up on its backside, and croaks loudly again before righting itself. One of its backlegs damaged, though, its hopping is reduced to wobbling.
The plopping, those shopping for the sound, now intermingles with a definite stillness of the wood. Birdsong has disappeared utterly, making it just quiet enough to hear croaking in the same direction of the sound.
Resists-Dance glances off towards the sounds of the croaking and takes a few steps further back, glancing towards the frog again. I bet when you kill it, something bad will happen. Are we allowed to shift to higher forms than wolf? His nose scrunches up in Lupus, giving the impression of a brief snarl.
Skip Tracer comes to a halt on the other side of the bush. She bares her teeth as her front legs go stiff, and gives a low warning growl. Apparently, the lack of noise has affected her more than the plopping itself.
Seeing Shades-of-Gray attacking a harmless frog, and failing, Tabitha looks rather amused before she tries it herself. Lowering herself to the ground, the red and black she-wolf launches at the frog as well, to try and render it with her claws. There is a little touch of glee in the wolf's movements as she attacks. My turn.
Shades-of-Gray growls as he looks down at his striking-paw. He looks up to Tabitha and Resists-Dance, his growl shifting from annoyance to warning. Yes, he indicates to the latter. He would recommend crushing it with a rock and avoiding the ooze or frog entrails. Meanwhile, he continues to examine his paw shaking it about and testing it by applying pressure to the ground and putting his weight on it, ready to shift to his other paw if it doesn't respond.
Rifthealer leaves the frog bashing to the others, fur fluffing up once more as things go unusually quiet. She pauses in her steps and turns towards the sounds of near croaking, lips peeling back in a silent agreement of Skip Tracer's alarm. Destroy it quickly! I do not think it is alone.
Unlike the result that Shades received, when the Walker cub launches wholeheartedly into the attack, her claws slice through its slimey skin. A jet of greenish liquid splurts out, just barely catching on the eartip of the Walker cub and splutting onto the ground. The frog croaks, literally. That croak is echoed from the definite sound, now, of many, many more croaks not too far away.
Sheeaghan hears something that makes her hair stand on end and the lupus remains back from the others for sure now that they have made a scene. The Theurge walks lightly and carefully towards where she had heard the source of the sound, yet at a calculated distance away. A fair distance away, this crescent-moon knows better.
Slicing and ripping through the frog, Tabitha has a large and wolfish grin on her maw before she finally stops. Blinking back to clarity, the cub peers and sniffs at her own claws curiously as she feels the tingling sensation. Claw feels weird, the wolf huffs out before she uses her hind leg to scratch at her ear and get rid of the goo. Stopping mid-scratch, the wolf's ears twitch as she hears the new croaks, her eyes widening. Oops.
Guards-Flame jerks her chin upwards quickly and shifts her way into the Hispo form. All of us, take war farms that are quick of paw. Prepare yourself. She arches her back a bit, then starts advancing towards the sound of croaking, her body rippling with a silver light.
Skip Tracer follows right at Guards-Flame's flank, likewise shifting to hispo as she goes. Her teeth remain bared, with no trace of the previous curiosity or brief playfulness at all evident anywhere in her much larger frame. Cubs, be careful.
Shades-of-Gray looks to Tabitha with concern, and then turns to give a warning bark to all present. What they have experienced thus far has been mild, but he does not recommend making contact with the frogs' entrails - nor their slimy skin, warning of the numbing sensation he and Tabitha have experienced. With a snarl, he rears back and takes Crinos form. If an attack is imminent, he wants his full potential for destruction. Again he looks to Tabitha, making sure she doesn't get ahead of him.
Rifthealer doesn't waste time and takes the full Crinos form, chest rising and falling as she takes a long, calming breath. Then, with yellow eyes fixed on the sound, she advances alongside Guards-Flame with her claws unfurling from her fists.
Resists-Dance frowns when he sees the goo on Tabitha's paws, and doesn't even wait for Guards-Flame's orders before he shifts up into the form of Crinos. A pair of heavy leather gloves are now on his arms, covering most of them, his claws peaking out through the ends. ~More Wyrm poison shit. I'm glad I have these.~ He takes in a deep breath and stretches his body out, then takes up a ready stance, waiting for further orders.
Sheeaghan quickly runs a distance before she emits a loud howl of warning to what she had just witnessed. They are heading towards the bawn! Kill the ones you see, quickly! Sheeaghan then takes off in a bolt, trying to get past the tainted frogs to determine how far they have gotten into the bawn and how many of them there are. She lets the others the most important task. The Theurge blurs into hispo just incase she so happens to stumble across one in her path.
As the Garou take on forms of war and otherwise, the croaking continues on. The closer they get, the more definitely obvious that the plopping is not rain. It's frogs. Lots, and lots, of frogs. A swarm of the hoppers, all headed in one definite direction - the bawn's edge. The Fianna is most correct.
Guards-Flame willing another gift to numb herself of pain, she chuffs back behind her. Heals The Rifts, Shades of Grey with me. This one will take the point with Luna's gift. Pick up those I do not slaughter in my wake. With the darts off ahead with her hispo speed, claws and fangs bared as she rips out an anthem of war.
Guards-Flame howls long and loud.
From Forest North of I-90, Guards-Flame can be heard to howl, ~The Wyrm comes to the Bawn!~
Tabitha shifts into hispo herself as she continues to shake at her paw to get the full feeling back. Glancing back up at Resists-Dance, the hispo makes a face before tugging on her ear some more until she's satisfied. Dragging her paws against the ground to 'clean' them, the she-wolf practically jumps at Sheeaghan's howl, eyes widening as she inhales deeply. Turning to look at Shades-of-Grey, the she-wolf flexes and tenses; but finding no orders, the cub follows her mentor to attack the frogs.
Skip Tracer is no Galliard--her only response to Guards-Flame's anthem is a heightened snarl, and a wild flash of her teeth. ~Kill them!~ She picks up speed, still flanking the Fostern, but gradually dropping back some as her battle scar hampers her running.
Rifthealer drops down to four limbs for added speed as she gallops off after her elder. A snarl rips from her jaws, eye bright as the normally placid Theurge launches back into her past of more violent days. She's ready at the flank of her cousin, claws ready to rend any that pass by.
Sheeaghan reaches the front, some 50 feet away, picking off what frogs she can get at without having to be swarmed by them. The hispo takes her form one higher into crinos and begins to tear into the tainted frogs. She waits for back-up to arrive from bawn-ward while the rest of the Garou are controling the rear of the attack.
Shades-of-Gray turns to look back for Tabitha, looking briefly pleased that she is staying with him. Good. His eyes scanning the area for an improvised weapon, he finally settles on an overhanging branch. With a grunt, he reaches for it, snapping it off and noting for Tabitha to take crinos. He then snaps the branch again, advising ~Thumbs. Weapons.~ He is still wary of touching one of these frogs with his bare hands again. Tossing half of the branch to Tabitha, he echoes Guards-Flame's howl of rage, keeping his voice distinct from hers as he charges after.
Shifting up to Crinos, Tabitha reaches out to grab the stick as she nods once done. Snarling, the cub starts swinging away as well, attempting to stomp on any she misses with her newfound bat.
Resists-Dance follows swiftly after Tabitha and Trent, sure in the fact that his gloves will protect him from the goo. He doesn't hesitate in the least to follow after the duo. ~Good luck to you too.~ He grunts out as he sprints towards the enemy with them, giving his chops a brief lick. When he reaches the frogs he swipes at them with his claws without caution, trying to both wound them, and knock them away from the other Garou and his foot path forward into the fray.
The sun's set behind the trees, but the sky is still lit a brilliant red. But out on the border of the northern bawn, the Garou are fighting the good fight. Against a wave of croakers - frogs of normal size and seemingly normal color, save that they are all hopping towards the direction of the caern. They're /everywhere/ from what the eye can see, and as Alicia spearheads the group from a little further north, Aubrey is snapping her way all over the place at the front of the swarm. The frogs are rent in two, clawed, chewed, smashed, smooshed, and in the overall though, they do not turn or fight. Yet.
Soon as the two Children of Gaia reach the swarm of frogs, the one half of the Stag pack now fights like a well oiled machine, one that would make most Get of Fenris stop and stare. They race side by side until they reach the enemy and soon they are all business. Claws and teeth aplenty, they rip and rend, wading through frog guts as they strike for the heart of the battle.
Sheeaghan finding that nothing is happening directly to her, the pale-furred crinos grows more reckles in where her claws fall, ripping and tearing the frogs as she pounces one or three of the tainted frogs. A few end up being thrown at trees in her fury to keep them away from the bawn as much as possible.
Skip Tracer is her own element, as both Gaians outstrip her. Her muzzle ripples back as she too hits the horde of frogs, and the Walker Theurge goes to work with a vengeance, claws and jaws working furiously at anything green and slimy. She's not picky about getting frog bits in her mouth, in spite of the warnings. Resist-Dance follows after the others and tears into the frogs as soon as he reaches them, sending little amphibians flying through the air on either side of him. He's struck not too far from the center along with the others, not seeming to give thought about possibly being surrounded just yet.
It could have been a well-oiled machine. Frogs croak, living and dying, splattering as very soon the mess of amphibian guts and entrails start to litter the ground. Things go well - the frogs aren't able to resist the powerful claws and teeth of the Garou that are using them. Those using tools find their weaponry quite useful, as frog after frog are smacked out of the virtual bawnpark - out of the realm of the living, for that matter. Bears at a salmon run come to mind, as comparisons are drawn. But one thing that doesn't happen in nature is obvious, and one by one, the Garou find themselves faced with a huge horde.
Rifthealer and Basil find themselves crushing and killing frogs with more and more undying hatred, frenzy setting upon them. Eventually Tabitha abandons her branch altogether, dropping down and killing with claws and teeth instead any damned ape's mimicry. In her enthusiasm, the cub begins not only killing frogs with her teeth, but consuming them at a rate too quick to be healthy.
It can also be said, the frogs die messily as green slime and ooze come into contact with Garou skin, those without the gifts to resist toxin and pain find themselves tingling, and the frogs slowly becoming more and more numerous in their numbers. Seemingly.
And as the frogs' number grow, so do the Garous'. Racing threw the forest at breakneck speed, Ladder-Climber comes to a full stop when she sees the scene, a pure look of disbelief on her face. With what might be a lupine shrug, she runs towards Aubrey to join the battle. Pathfinder is hot on her heels, clearly pissed at the Cub and barking to demand she return to the farmhouse.
As Heals the Rift frenzies, Guards-The-Flame continues her furious attack as she doubles her efforts. Not using her teeth, but focusing her rage and will through her claws, she pours every bit of her veteran battle prowess into the slaughter of amphibians. ~Die before Resonance's claws!~ She howls out loudly as her claws rake in a quick uppercutting swipe, sending frogs flying in the air, torn in ribbons.
With great vengeance and furious anger, Shades smacks, smashes, and stabs at the horde, snarling in frustration. Checking on his charge once more, he eyeballs Tabitha as she begins to eat the frogs. The crinos does a double-take before he realizes what is going on. Not good. ~TABITHA!~ he snarls loudly, both in anger and warning. With a mighty growl he leaps in to tackle her, quite sure that ingesting the slimy frogs is not healthy. He struggles to keep his arms around the cub and try to shake her back into reality.
The Walker Theurge is oblivious to the numbers--she's in hispo, but she's paying no more attention than to whatever happens to be in front of her, and as that still remains frogs, she continues to tear into them without hesitation. A sneeze is the only reaction to the strange tingling starting in her jaws and limbs. Resists-Dance's control is slipping with every fallen frog, sanity and reason barely holding against the beast inside of him. His eye has grown wider with excitement, the words of the others lost to the Crinos as an awkward snarl comes across his features.
Sheeaghan becomes more passionate about her task of ripping apart the frogs. Stamina serves her well in her warform, making her tireless to the numerous frogs that she sweeps through like butter as her claws knife through their flesh. Resist Toxin makes her ammune to the vileness that the frogs ooze from their bodies as they are ripped apart. The crinos Fianna only snarls between laboring pants, eager of her task, and protective of her home. These sickened creatures of the Wyrm will not reach far into her sept, every last one will be slaughtered! Finding himself at the forefront of the battle, Pathfinder wastes no more time scalding the unshakeable Get Cub. He bulks upward into Hispo, and begins swiping and batting at the oncoming horde. Ladder-Climber burst up into crinos as she runs towards the Fianna, throwing herself at the frogs in abandon with a loud, feral roar as soon as she reaches the Theurge.
The Fostern Child of Gaia is an incredible machine of frog-rending fury, glowing with her gift of Luna's Armor, but looking covered in greenish slime mostly around her feet and claws. Rifthealer's frenzy staves off for moments, headed off by sheer force of will, allowing the Child theurge to continue in the massacre. Aubrey's efforts are not in vain, as every frog that comes within contact of with the Fianna theurge's swift claws, but a few escape. Those few are suddenly confronted by Maggie and Karl arriving from another section of the bawn, the two of them greeted with the sight of the bawn's edge turned into a dumping ground of a high school biology student's lab nightmare. Trent tackles Tabitha with all the experience of the cliath who recognizes the Thrall of the Wyrm. The cub is taken down and both Walkers are covered in frog bits. Frogs hop out of the way, croaking indignantly but all moving still towards the northern bawn. Elanora and Basil make short work of the frogs around them, but as Basil keeps the frenzy off course by bare mental restraint, the Walker theurge finds herself getting wildly desperate. There's just too many. Too many frogs, everywhere! Kill them all! Kill them-- A hind paw slips and the theurge topples flat on her nose, moments before exploding in a berserk frenzy.
Another loud howl rips forth from Guards-The-Flame's throat as her Hispo claws rend and tear. As she feels her paws growing sluggish, she lets out a grunt of frustration, but still continues to swing her limbs in any way possible at the enemy. On she fights, continuing to push her way towards the Northern Bawn.
Rifthealer does her best to keep her numbed limbs working now that her mind is clear, swinging her arms back and forth like a horror movie axe blade. Roaring, the Ritemaster does her best to pick up the pace lost by trying to rein herself in.
Oh yes, a fall like that would do it. Skip Tracer's eyes go absolutely wild as frenzy takes her, and she plunges after anything moving--preferably green, but at this stage, she's not making any real distinction. Her limbs are moving with odd jerks instead of precision, and her jaws are hanging open more than shutting, all thanks to the poison. It would look funny under other circumstances. Resists-Dance unaware of the others, continues his assault on the vast horde before him. All frogs must die! His gloves are positively splattered with all manner of filthy frog guts, as are some portions of his chest, though a good lot has also landed on his feet. The Gnawer begins to stumble as he continues pushing onward, using his right hand as a third leg when needed to keep upright.
Sheeaghan goes like a batouttahell reckless slaughtering off the frogs as they happen to cross her path. They meet their fate with a slashing of her crawls, wasting no time slaving their way through the forms of the amphibians. She fights along side the newly-arrived Garou, taking out the remaining of the wyrmtained frogs left. Growling in frustration from the pain, Ladder-Climber nevertheless fights onwards, squishing and disemboweling frogs with no rhyme or reason, swinging at them with her claws, stomping on them with her feet, looking very pleased to be in a battle at last. Finds-The-Path bounds back and forth like a tennis player, socking those little green slimeballs back with his forepaws. That is, until the toxin starts to set in and he finds his footing not so stable. He stumbles, accuracy decreasing, but he sucks it up and presses on, frustration fuelling his drive to kill.
It took the Guardian a pretty long time to run the distance between the south half of the bawn and the northern extreme, a problem exasterbated by the fact that the Guardian is by no means a great runner. Circle Keeper is panting heavily as he arrives in Lupus, swelling up and into Crinos as he comes close enough to see what's happening.
Bug isn't far behind Circle Keeper. Barely a moment after he's surged into crinos, she comes tearing, quite literally with those six legs, out of the woods in lupus. She's panting herself, and there's a small amount of slather worked up around her jaws, but apparently no one's taught her to actually stop and assess. The metis cub continues right on toward the frogs, bulking up into crinos with the ease of one returning to their birth form.
Justin comes running to the scene in full lupus and sprinting as fast as he can. When he sees frog corpses he starts to change his path to circle around, avoiding the mass of death and goo and trying to find the source of the froggy invasion. Keeping his distance odds are few even spot his form moving through the woods at a full run as he sweeps around to the northern side of the mess, hoping that the mass of frogs would have to leave an easy to follow path back to the source.
Shades-of-Gray looms over Tabitha, who definately isn't in her right mind. Seeing the elder now as her enemy, she snaps her teeth at him, fangs flying for his head and shoulder area, earning a loud snarl in return as the galliard's rage is tapped. Rising now, with his arms still around the cub, his eyes quickly dart back and forth until he finds a nearby tree and attempts to swing the cub's head into it with great velocity. They have to get out of this... muck... and she won't make things easy for him in her current state of mind. Howling to the relative newcomers, Shades warns of the numbing danger in the goop. If he can somehow manage to pacify Tabitha... and carry her... maybe he can make it to the waterfall... though he is still trying to think of how to stop the horde, the current ideas don't seem to be working.
Guards-the-Flame soon finds that her frogkill count is well into the double digits, and a path of destruction lies around her. The same with Rifthealer, whose claws and paws are stained with gooze, but the majority of the frogs are all dead, damaged and croaking (in the dying sense). As Elanora kills her last and starts to attack a tree, the tree doesn't provide much more than just a very hard scratching post. The Walker theurge's frenzy slows, as does her body with the tickly, tingly sensation. The other pair of Walkers battle it out, with Shades getting a jaw full of teeth clamped around his arm and then ripped away, drawing the first actual Garou blood spilt. That is quickly countered by a hard THWAK of Tabitha's skull in forced greeting to Mr. Pine. The meeting ends with the cub's dissolve into her homid form, still covered in green gunk and frog jelly dribbling out of the corner of her mouth. The newcomers are greeted by the last stray frogs, all dying swiftly underneath quick claws of those who attack them. In the end, the battlefield is gory. And green.
Aubrey too, finds that she runs out of frogs around to kill - those stragglers are at her mercy.
Justin heads off in wolf form following the trail of frog goo at a fast pace. He's running through the woods to the side of the path, something very easy for even a cub to track apparently.
Sheeaghan pokes around, finding every last frog dead before doing a full patrol of the area despite that she is panting from shortness of breath now. Her blood still bounds with addrenaline after months of not being in a threatening situation. A slow grin appears on the crinos' lips, her tail wagging joyously at the number of tainted frogs killed. ~Alright,~ she growls, ~This area will have to be cleansed....~
Bad tree, bad tree. Skip Tracer gets a mouthful of splinters as her frenzy dims. She slumps forward onto her front legs, head low, frog goo dripping from her mouth. Now and then she gives a sudden, wild jerk of her head to the side. She doesn't seem entirely 'there', at least, she doesn't respond to Sheeaghan. Resists-Dance stands there for a moment with his chest heaving, his claws dripping with the poisonous gore of his small but numerous foe. He just stares for a minute at the carnage around him then moves to the side, sitting with his back to a tree. The Crinos starts to use leaves and other forest debris to get the goo off his feet and legs, growling under his breath. Concerned with the poison more than the others, he fails to recognize immediately that some have lost control.
~Its not over, find the source.~ Guards-The-Flame pants, covered in green ooze, standing on trembling paws as she lets her eyes dart over towards the slimy trails of the frogs. Giving herself a quick shake and spraying guts everywhere, she high steps through the muck, stumblng at times as she tries to will her body to stay in control. ~They came from somewhere. More will follow!~
Rifthealer drops down to four limbs, needing them all (tingling and numb) to support her weight that slumps low, eyes darting this way and that to check for living Wyrm-phibians, twitching here and there as though spooked by things unseen and stamping a paw down on a frog already thoroughly dead with a snarl.
Circle Keeper came just in time to watch the end, it seems. Bumm luck for the Uktena. The Ahroun is still panting from his trans-bawn journey, muscles quivering as he views the carnage. ~Guards the Flame-Rhya! What has happened?~ He asks urgently.
Finds-The-Path limps around, ears still rigid; eyes still sharp; body still pumped. His attention snaps from tiny green corpse to tiny green corpse. Watching, waiting. Daring one to twitch as he stares.
Bug's crinos sized muzzle twitches as she sniffs toward the frog goo. Her nose abruptly wrinkles in disgust. Overall, however, the metis cub seems disappointed as she looks sharply this way and that. ~Where?~ She paces along the edge, trying to keep her feet away from any frog carcasses. ~Where is the Wyrm?~ One of her lower, homid sized hands paws at the obsidian knife on her belt.
Guards-Flame chuffs to the Guardian that a fleet of tainted frogs appeared from the woods and began a journey to the Bawn. She pauses in her Lupus speech, to start speaking in the mother's tongue, dripping gore off her pelt. ~Healers, if any are in need, make sure to mend their wounds. Circle Keeper, Shades of Grey, Skip Tracer, if you wish, we should continue on to find the heart of this taint.~
Ladder-Climber continues to run and slashes at dead frogs as the battle ends, taking a moment to calm down. Jerking her head up to survey the area she blinks at Guards-Flame's words. ~I want to come.~ she barks.
Justin's run carries him for a good five more minutes. The trail leads on an unnervingly unerring straight path through the woods. He is greeted with the sight of a brackish pond. Out of it, a frog similar to the ones seen back near the bawn jumps out and lands with a wet flop upon the bank. It serenades the Fang cub with a deep fart of a croak.
Meanwhile, those left close to the edge and right upon the edge of the northern bawn are faced with twitchy and dead brethren of the amphibian kind. Tainted kind.
Sheeaghan turns towards the wounded, although she snaps at Ladder-Climber. You will not without your elder's approval, young pup!
Shades-of-Gray eases his charge down to the ground, performing a rudimentary first-aid check on her to make sure that she is still breathing and pulsing. He signals to Guards-Flame and grunts. ~Medic.~ The galliard is willing to follow the alpha to the source, but he is concerned for his protege'. She needs healing at the very least, possibly cleansing. He snarls at the sting of his own wound, glancing down at the bite Tabitha inflicted in her thrall.
Tabitha's breathing starts to falter and a wince starts to etch across on her features. Twitching and digging her fingers into the grass, the naked cub starts to slowly come around.
Skip Tracer gives her head a furious shake. And then another. She rocks back and forth, taking several moments to convince her three numbed and shaking limbs to cooperate enough in order to stand. She pants heavily.
Guards-Flame barks loud at the cub. No, no cubs can go. Stay here where its safe and protect the Bawn. With that, she turns and starts off quickly in a bolt, leaping and bounding on pin needled paws.
Rifthealer drops her jaws down and snaps at another dead frog, twisting her head to send the half of the creature flying through the air. ~...die...~ She rumbles out, pushing her wobbling body back up onto her legs, claws and jaws stained and dripping greenish slime.
Bug angles toward Sheeaghan, her paws clenching eagerly. ~Me? I came. I fight the Wyrm?~ She pauses in her pleading in order to squish a twitching frog.
Circle Keeper indicates a sharp `no` no sooner is the question asked. ~Am Guardian. I do not leave.~ The Ahroun's head turns sharply to the carnage again~ Get the wounded and /ALL/ cubs out of this place. Drag them to the Sept Compound if you must! Winged-person-spirit! As soon as you are done healing, make haste for the Caern.~ And to the Fostern Galliard, he growls after ~Luna guide your strikes!~
Skip Tracer gives her legs another shaky moment to get used to standing, and then she sets off after Guards-Flame at an uneasy, awkward looking lope.
Sheeaghan heals those with the most critical injuries as quickly as she can before she turns back to Bug. You have done a good job, pup. She addresses her cub, Now be good and go back to the farmhouse--please. The pale wolf's ears perk as she is called, quite alarmed. Do as the Guardian says, Bug.
Bug's ears droop. ~Did nothing,~ she counters, chancing another glance down at the dead frogs. She doesn't hesitate, however--as expected, orders are orders with the metis, and she turns immediately to head back the way she came. There's no hiding her disappointment, even in this form.
Shades-of-Gray watches Guards-Flame go, and shakes his head with a sigh. He has a responsibility on his hands. He shifts down to glabro to make sure he is understood fully - or better, anyway. Mentor places a heavy hand on Tabitha's collar-bone region, trying to hold her down. "Don't get up, kid," he growls gruffly, and looks around for whomever is healing. "Medic!" he calls out, making sure that they see to Tabitha before him. "Tis but a scratch," he growls. "She 'et some of the bastards. Might need cleansing."
Ladder-Climber growls unhappily at her elders outburst. Shifting down into Hispo she gives Alicia a glare before turning tail and heading back into the forest. ~Come on Bug, let's guard the farmhouse. Maybe there's a plague of grasshoppers there or something.~
Resists-Dance grunts at the talk of the others and continues to knock the sludge off his paws, wishing that he had some sort of squeegee. He stays where he is every so often, sparring a glance at the others as they take off, then around him at Tabitha.
Rifthealer gives her head a firm shake, snorting at the tingling in her head. Catching sight of folks moving off, she decides to stay and carefully picks her way over towards Shades-of-Grey and Tabitha on prickly paws. ~I would not be able to tell here if she is Tainted. There is too much here.~ She says to Shades.
Finds-The-Path watches Ladder-Climber like a hawk as she leaves the carnage. Satisfied she'll obey, he pads to the nearest critter and gives it a good swipe, sending the limp corpse tumbling and flailing a few good metres. ~I'm going to check on my family,~ he announces to nobody in particular, and hobbles off for another part of the forest.
Trent turns to Rifthealer and shrugs. "Best thing would be to assume she is. She was scarfing 'em like teriyaki wings on a Chinese Buffet. Let's relocate and regroup." With that, he makes to throw the cub over his shoulder.
Justin peers at the one frog as it croakes at him then carefully circles around the brackish pond, giving it leeway so he avoids any chance of falling in, looking for any telling source of the cause of the plague of frogs. He's wary, not knowing if he should expect back up at all, and trying to watch all around for anything out of the ordinary.
The frog that Justin eyes, stares right back at him. The pond itself is hard to see into, definitely rather greenish, but not entirely unexpected of still water. The small frog that hopped onto the bank croaks again, like everything around here is just fine and dandy.
Justin sniffs the air, trying to put the lone frog on the other side of the pond. He seems to be at a loss at the moment, so continues his investigation, trying to see if there's a trail /too/ the pond other than his own, perhaps truck tracks or something equally revealing.
The frog croaks a third time before hopping into the pond.
Making her way through the woods, taking it slow so that Skip Tracer can keep up, Guards-The-Flame is unaware the Silver Fang cub had gone ahead. She rumbles her frustration to the Glass Walker, wondering where the ~hell~ everyone else went to.
Skip Tracer continues onward. Now that she's away from the site of the battle, it's easier to follow the goo trail--that is, when she's not jerking or jumping at things just beyond her sight. Her pace isn't terribly fast, in spite of obvious effort. The numbness sees to that. Her teeth bare faintly. Instead of answering, she growls ~Don't slow down for me.~ And just for that, she makes an effort to speed up.
Justin is sitting at the edge of the pond, on the highest rise above it, if there is one, peering around and watching for additional frogs or anything out of the ordinary. He gives a few more sniffs of the air, his nose wrinkling a bit as the white wolf cub seems abit out of place here, by the gooey pond.
~Better to wait up for you, then rush ahead to my death and leave you all alone.~ Guards-The-Flame says with a look over her shoulder to the Walker. Sniffing the air, she chuffs. ~I smell the Silver Fang cub. Foolish brat ran ahead of us. If he is dead, Fire Burns will have my head.~
Walking takes a little longer, but eventually the other pair of Garou reach the pond without fail. The trail leads them right to it, where Justin is investigating. The rising moon reflects brightly off the surface of the water, all in all enough to frolick about in, but not enough call as a full on lake.
Fur prickles all down Skip Tracer's spine, but aside from this visible sign of irritation, she let's the matter drop. Her nose swings down, close to but not quite touching the trail. ~These are wolf tracks.~ The Theurge lifts her head and squints. ~And there's the wolf.~
Justin perks as he spots the two others, in large wolf form. He stands up on all fours and gives a quick bow of the head. Frog in Pond. Ribbit Ribbit. One Frog. Okay, so the boy's wolf speech leaves a lot to be desired.
~Get back from the water~ Guards-The-Flame growls to the Silver Fang, jerking her head away to the side. ~Don't -ever- rush ahead /again/ or I'll beat you myself. You do not know the dangers this pond or anything of the unknown may throw at you.~ She looks wildly frustrated as she appoaches the pond, sniffing.
Skip Tracer keeps at Guards-Flame's side, eyes narrowing. As she sniffs, the Theurge lifts her head, peering with a squint across the water, and then to either side. Covering her, as it were.
~The pond is tainted. I need more than just you, Skip Tracer, to do a proper cleansing. I may need the voice of many.~ Guards-The-Flame circles the pond, then lifts her chin, howling out once more.
Justin cowers a bit, moving back yet further from the pond. Trying to find source... trying to stop source... wanted to help. He gives a little whine and quickly trots over towards the other two Garou, staying away from the water. He tries to stay near Guards-The-Flame if allowed.
Guards-Flame howls long and loud.
From Forest North of I-90, Guards-Flame can be heard to howl, ~The source has been found! I need those who can aid their voice for the cleansing!~
Skip Tracer scratches at the ground in front of the pond. ~We will need clean water and good soil,~ she adds, as Guards-Flame howls. The Walker breaks off, pacing carefully along the edge of the water, but not going so far as to touch it.
Guards-Flame chuffs to the cub. ~Go back and tell Heals the Rifts that we need proper supplies. She knows what to bring.~ This is obviously not a question, but a direct order as per her posture.
Justin doesn't hesitate a moment but moves, running in a sudden sprint back towards the bawn
Skip Tracer continues to pace around the pond, pausing every now and then to try and peer into the depths.
The pond remains quiet, though a few insects buzz around its surface.
Shifting to Crinos, Guards-The-Flame picks up a large rock off the ground and chucks it at the water experimentivly.
The rock plorps into the water, sinking down and making ripples, but nothing comes out of it.
Skip Tracer's fur bristles slightly at the sound, until she blinks and glances across at Guards-Flame. Then she continues on, following the shoreline.
Lumbering towards the water, Guards-The-Flame growls quietly in her throat for a moment, then begins to rumble a calming prayer in her throat as she takes in a deep breath. ~Something in the water must be causing the taint.~
Of all the help to arrive, Walks-the-Middle-Path comes running onto the scene, Dagger's-Edge not far behind her. The young wolf looks a little skinnier, filthy, and downright tired. She runs toward Guard's-the-Flame, slowing as she nears. This one heard a howl! Where's the danger?
Skip Tracer turns her head sharply, first toward Guards-Flame, then toward the two arriving Garou. ~Don't touch the water,~ she growls, and whether that's an order intended for the former or the latter, or all three, is anyone's guess.
Dagger's-Edge answers the howl from the galliard fostern as well, running in after the ahroun. He and Walks-Middle look to have been traveling for a long, long time. Tired, hungry, but nonetheless recognizeable, he chuffs at the sight of the other two Garou covered in goop. A slight wariness is around him, defensive, especially at the way Elanora looks with her pale fur and three legs. He growls out loudly, shifting to hispo, ~You better not be Wyrm Dancers.~
Guards-Flame barks quickly at the pair approaching. ~Dagger's-Edge, I should kill you for even asking that question. Walks Middle, you and the Shadow Lord stand ground with Skip Tracer. I am going to peek into the Umbra real fast. If I don't come back, just assume the worst~ With that, she peers forward into the water, looking to catch her reflection if possible off the moon light.
Skip Tracer fidgets. She appears to be growing more and more irritable as the seconds tick by, and while she doesn't verbally protest Guards-Flame's decision, she's clearly not pleased by it. All Kenneth gets in reply is another growl, another jerky-headed fidget, and rolled back shoulders.
Walks-Middle turns her head to look Skip Tracer over then, her gaze a bit wary as she considers the strange wolf. Yes, this one will stand guard, she responds to Guards-Flame. The water is avoided and given a couple wary glances as well.
Soon as the Child of Gaia peeks into the Umbra, she rumbles loudly in anger, then tears through the gauntlet as she leaps in. ~Banes!~ Pop. Poof.
Dagger's-Edge flats his ears back, slightly convinced that danger is still around. That's confirmed by that one word, and the philodox looks to the ahroun. ~One more time,~ he growls, moving to the edge of the water to peer into his reflection.
Skip Tracer likewise turns her gaze on the water, focusing. She's not, however, focusing so much that she can't release a snarl of garbled words. It might be an attempt at Spanish, but given her form, none of it makes any sense.
Walks-Middle shifts up into hispo, snarling at Guards-Flame's warning. She turns her head to regard the Philodox. ~Indeed. Once more forth.~ And the Child steps forward to gaze at her reflection.
Flipside, Tainted Pond. The Gauntlet here, not incredibly far from the caern itself, is fairly easy to pierce for the Garou. Only Walks-Middle has a slight more time coming through, but she makes it as well. By the time Alicia has completely pierced the Gauntlet, the banes have focused upon her. Two of them, about the size of a hispo in height and a ten foot croc in length, they look like frog-headed snakes. One of them rears up, baring its dripping fangs at the fostern in an attempt to intimidate her.
~Bring it.~ Guards-The-Flame roars out as she speeds into action, pouring out her anger in the form of well timed and harnessed strikes. She blurs forward in the movement, Luna's armor glowing and making her appear like a bright fallen star. ~Say hello to hell for me, bastard!~ In moments, she is upon the creature.
The moment Skip Tracer pops through to the other side, she turns sharply and charges the banes, without even a pause to assess the situation. The anger shown upon crossing over is suddenly channeled into her first strike.
When Justin and Dakota arrive at the pond, indeed, there is no one there. But the scent of Alicia, Elanora, and even Kenneth and Stacey are present at the pond. No tracks lead away. They just vanish at the water's edge.
Justin was supposed to return and let others know Dakota had to go to the compound to get materials, but now is confronted by the apparent view that the pond ate the other three garou! He screeches to a halt a bit away from the lake, looking rather concerned. He gives a little howl of worry, then circles the pond, frantic as he tries to spot where the others might have been sucked in.
Walks-Middle has trouble entering the Umbra, but once she does, she wastes no time tossing herself into the fray, launching herself at the bane nearest her with a snarl.
Dagger's-Edge leaps forth as well, hispo jaws shifting open to attack the bane that Skip Tracer takes on.
No howls answer the Fang cub, as on the Realmside the pond is quiet, silent. The frog reappears again, crawling out of the water to sit there and eye the cub. Almost, mockingly.
On the other side of the Gauntlet-- Alicia strikes, glowing and ferocious in both body and claws that shine brightly in the moonlight. The gleam of the galliard's claws soon voids as it tears into the head of the first Frog-Snake, rending it wide open. It screechs in crazed song as it strikes, clamping down upon the fostern galliard but somehow unable to pierce her at all. Stacey bites down on the body of the frog-snake Alicia attacked, her heavy jaws piercing down and rending yet another hole in the spirit's body.
Elanora and Kenneth attack the other bane, but their strikes are not as true. Though the Walker snaps her jaws into the second FS, she gets naught but a scratch into it. Kenneth fares just a little better, the same happening to him. The FS turns its head upon the Walker theurge, biting her tail in return for her troubles but barely breaking flesh.
The trek to and back from the sept compound is a long one, forcing Rifthealer to drop from a full sprint to the more energy-saving loping run. There's a large decorated pouch slung around the lupus' neck and shoulders, bouncing against her as she goes to the steady beat of her panting. Upon spying the whiteness of the cub Justin, she veers towards him with ears laid back at his howl. What happened? She bumps her shoulder into his, warding him back from the pond. Where are they? Sniffing, she narrows her eyes and shakes off the bag around her neck. They must have crossed. Do not follow, cub. Return to the caern. The battle has gone to the Umbra. Tell them. Go! That said, the Ritemaster leans herself closer so her eyes can focus on their reflection in the water and propel herself across the Gauntlet. The frog is ignored - there are bigger prey to slay.
Landing easily on her feet, Guards-The-Flame continues to throw one furious strike after the other into the bane, snarling deeply into her throat. The way she moves is almost like a dance, making sure the fight is close and personal so that the Bane finds a hard time to manuever between her and the Ahroun.
Justin watches the elder vanish, with a dropped jaw. Oh boy... He hesitates just a moment then turns tail and leaves the taunting frog in his wake, making as much haste as he can, renewed with speed and energy as he tries to go find the Caern for the very first time.
Skip Tracer snaps her head around sharply, trying to get at the bane biting her tail--that's a little too close to tender spots, thankyouverymuch. She rears back, though only slightly, as her back leg can't handle the extra weight. It's the jaws again then, as she bites furiously at her target.
Walks-Middle continues fighting furiously, encouraged by its wounds. She growls as she opens her jaws to deal another blow to the enemy, this time drawing upon her rage to aid her.
Dagger's-Edge lunges once more, grabbing onto the snake's backside and shaking wildly.
The Child of Gaia theurge breaks through the already weakish Gauntlet, only to encounter the sight of battle ongoing. The moment Rifthealer solidifies into the Umbra, Alicia and Stacey completely take out the Frog-snake they attack in tandem. It thrashes once more, its sharp tail coming out of the water and scoring the fostern Child galliard deep across the chest before collapsing into a dissolving heap.
Elanora and Kenneth AGAIN, snap at the frog-headed snake bane they have to battle with, scoring slashes into the Wyrmbeing but again, not getting far into it. The bane coils itself around the Walker theurge, biting down upon her midsection as she rears up and punctures her with its large fangs.
Rifthealer breaks through, eyes burning with Rage as she rolls up into the Hispo form. The surviving Bane is spotted and she charges in, looking for an opening to sink her teeth into the spirit's body.
Skip Tracer rears again, this time letting the bane's grip and coils balance her--or at least, that's the hope. She bites wildly, furiously at the back of the head, or as close to such a thing as she can reach.
Hissing as she feels her skin tear open, Guards-The-Flame glances down at the wound, then turns back to see the other three Garou fighting the other bane. She sloshes about in the water, then takes point as she waits to see if anything else is coming out.
Walks-Middle glances at Guards-Flame after the Elder is struck, making sure she is still standing, and then she leaps forward with a growl to help battle the remaining bane.
Dagger's-Edge continues to tear away at the spot he feels is best, like a dog that just won't let go, the Shadow Lord is firmly clamped on.
Four Garou on one little frog-snake? That's just Not Fair! But the battles between Gaians and Wyrm have never really been so, as all four of the group do full contact football tackle onto the second FS, and take it down. It screeches out, fading fast as it is torn into, disappearing in a death throe lash, scoring Walks-Middle across her back with its whiplike tail. That rears out a third, and a fourth snake bane out of the water, one of them dripping malice and Umbral water from its fangs. It rears right behind Alicia, silently staring at her. The third bane on the other hand, strikes for Dakota with speed, fangs piercing into the Child's skin.
Skip Tracer staggers as she's released, but before her paws have properly set back onto the ground, she's boiled up into the warform itself. The Walker Theurge is slower, most certainly, but nevertheless she lunges on all fours toward the third bane, with dogged stubbornness, if nothing else.
The Ritemaster doesn't even seem to feel it, but it does make her react. Twisting her body around in an eel-like motion, Heals-the-Rifts opens her jaws in a thunderous roar as she aims to clamp down hard on the Bane with her fangs and shake it like a mongoose with a cobra.
Feeling the fur prick up on the back of her neck, Guards-The-Flame whirls around and drops down, slicing her claws forward across the stomach of the reared up creature as her claws look to score. Once more she channels her rage, looking to do a pair of hard strikes. ~Rift Healer! Another comes for you! Dagger's-Edge, protect her!~
Walks-Middle roars out as she is struck on back. The sound of Alicia's cry, however, brings the Ahroun speeding up into Crinos and charging toward the one she fights, striking at it with her claws.
Dagger's-Edge shifts to Crinos after he hears his name, snapping his head up at the swift striking Snake3 and lunging forward on command.
The Snake3 rears back, getting its throat clamped onto by the Child theurge, then jumped upon by Tracer and Kenneth. The crazed Garou attack thrice, slapping down the bane with powerful strikes and jaws. Alicia and Stacey are a sight to see, both Children of Gaia blurring into effect and slicing up the snake. The bane's midsection is clawed open, and the bulbous face of the froghead is slashed to ribbons. Both banes look translucent. The third snake finally focuses on Kenneth, and a lash of its tail cuts open a wound deep into the Shadow Lord's shoulder. The fourth bane snake snaps again at Stacey, though, and bites into her arm without letting go. Fire sears up the ahroun's shoulder, and the full moon sees redness encroaching at her vision's edge.
Without a word, Guards-The-Flame is slicing her claws into the neck of the beast that has a hold upon her tribe mate. She comes up quickly from behind, throwing her weight into the single mighty blow as she howls out her anger.
Rifthealer wrenches her jaws closed as tightly as possible, continuing to thrash her head side to side in hopes the very force of her attack will rip off the creature's head.
Undeterred by the translucence of her target, Skip Tracer rears again on her one leg, attempting to latch her jaws onto the bane in order to hold herself up, and then rip into it with her claws.
Walks-Middle lets out another roar of rage and begins attacking the bane relentlessly with her free arm and teeth, trying to free herself or kill it, whichever comes first.
Amongst the Garou, the banes both stand no chance under the rage of attacks. The snakebane in Rifthealer's jaws has its throat torn out, shortly before the Walker theurge takes out its spiritual spine, and right after Kenneth makes short work of a section of the bane's midback. It collapses, dissolving into the Umbra with a dark green mist rising.
The last standing snakebane lets go of Stacey, the ahroun's crazed claw just missing the froggish head. It turns, seeing the galliard's strike coming in and dodges that as well before clamping onto the Child fostern and tearing fur and flesh away from her gut. The bane's last strike, before the fostern ends its existence in this part of the Shadow. Walks-Middle's head clears as will fights her inner Beast, winning out.
~Always with the stomach. Fucking banes.~ Guards-The-Flame hisses out as she narrows her eyes, then glances to the others. ~We must prepare a cleansing ritual immediately. I've had enough of this shit.~
Skip Tracer again falls as the bane dissolves under jaws, though this time she's not nearly so quick to catch herself. She stumbles to hands and knees, and just remains there for the time being, panting heavily. Her middle is bleeding, as is her tail, though the latter not so heavily.
Rifthealer stands there, hackles and growling, eyes looking this way and that for any other attackers. She remains leery, just in case. This has been a night of suprises, afterall. Her chest is rising and falling heavily between battles and long distance running, blood trickling through the fur of her side. ~My supplies should still be on the other side where I left them.~
Justin leads Finds-The-Path to the pond's edge, where there's a small pack of suplies but nothing else. Umbra. Here Wyrm. He manages, not being good at wolf speech.
Dagger's-Edge limps slightly, given his shoulder has been slashed open. The Shadow Lord snorts at the fading essence of the banes, looking towards the waters where Alicia and Stacey are. He takes stock in silence, before moving towards the water's edge.
Walks-Middle is bleeding from her back and arm, breathing heavily as she surveys the area. She nods to Guards-Flame. ~To the other side then?~ she asks, and then looks over at Far-Cry as he approaches.
On the Realmside, the pond is quiet as ever. The frog from before has hopped into the waters there, leaving just the tracks and scent of the Umbrastepped Garou and Rifthealer's pack behind.
~Yes, hurry.~ Guards-The-Flame says after another quick look around, then starts to concentrate once the water stills about her ankles, focusing and willing herself across the gauntlet.
Skip Tracer flattens her ears. She remains where she is, still panting, head low. For now, the Theurge isn't moving.
Rifthealer snorts under her breath. ~...easy to say...~ She grumbles as she moves over towards Skip Tracer, touching her nose softly to her fellow Theurge's shoulder. ~Need someone to lean on?~
You stay on this side, Pathfinder snorts. He sniffs briefly at the supplies then bulks up into his Warform, stalking to the water's edge to make the crossing.
Walks-Middle nods and then looks down at her reflection, focusing on reaching the Realm-side beyond the Gauntlet.
Justin sits near the pack, waiting, since there's little else he /can/ do. He looks at Finds-The-Path worriedly, but seems content to stay where he is.
Dagger's-Edge growls quietly at the pond, as if daring more banes to come out of it, before he too focuses upon his reflection. The Shadow Lord only flicks an ear in the direction of the Child ahroun, his concerns pushed aside in the aftermath of the battle.
As the Garou step back across, they appear in glowing pulses of light that flash and fade, like a camera flash going off. This happens as Karl gets to the water's edge, his reflection getting disturbed by the reappearance of Alicia, then Kenneth and Stacey all in forms outside their breed, all seeming to be bleeding.
Guards-Flame blinks her eyes as she stares at Karl for a moment, then lets out a slight snort. ~We must prepare the cleansing. The banes are destroyed.~ With a twitch of her ears, she stumbles out of the water, rocking her shoulders backwards slowly.
Skip Tracer shrinks into lupus as Dakota approaches, bristling slightly and flagging her wounded tail high. No. Apparently this is enough to get her up--she staggers onto all three paws and limps heavily toward the water, defiance lined in every muscle. From here, she turns her eyes onto the water and begins the process of stepping over.
Finds-The-Path startles and scrambles back as the other Garou return. Once he seems to fathom that it's all over, he relaxes a little, and asks, ~Injuries?~
Rifthealer bristles slightly in response and stands taller, but says nothing as she moves for the water's edge to cross over.
Both theurges after bristling at each other, pass through the Gauntlet without further trouble. The dark waters of the pond disturb once more as the two remaining Garou cross over into the Realm.
Walks-Middle looks from Karl to Justin as she steps out, doing a double-take at the cub. ~I know this one!~ the Child says in surprise, and then she steps out of the way, looking toward Guards-Flame for guidance. The cub still gets a bewildered glance here and there from the bleeding Crinos.
Skip Tracer limps up onto the bank, moving as though her paws were paining her, though the telltale crimson of blood, impossible to miss on her white fur, is centered mostly around her middle, and at the base of her tail. She scratches at the ground with her right paw, then gives herself a shake.
~We are all alive. Thats all that matters. Pathfinder, Rifthealer, start the cleansing ritual. Skip Tracer, Clean-Freak, Walks Middle, you will aid me in scaring off the taint from the land.~ Guards-The-Flame rumbles in her throat as she paces, giving direction.
Dagger's-Edge shuffles himself out of the water, shaking a paw or two off but otherwise simply leaving himself as he stands. The Fang cub gets an experimental sniff in his direction, as does Karl, and then he turns to Alicia. ~I know the Rite of Cleansing as well. Rifthealer taught it to me.~
Walks-Middle glances at Karl and then curiously at the strange wolf, then the bleeding Crinos nods to Guards-Flame, moving to help.
Skip Tracer chuffs. That trace of bad temper seems quite unwilling to leave, as she indicates that she too knows the ritual. Regardless, she paces a small length toward Guards-Flame, and then drops into a tired sit.
~And I do not,~ Pathfinder adds to the words of Dagger's-Edge. ~Trade you.~
Justin watches various Garou emerge from the nothing with awe. He backs a bit, and peers at the various forms he doesn't know. The cub smells faintly of febreeze and lemons. He glances at Guards-The-Flame then at the others. I leave?
Guards-Flame motions with her hands towards the pair. ~Yes, yes, Kenneth, aid Rift Healer. Clean-Freak, /sit/.~ She barks at the Fang cub. ~You are going to watch a ritual of Gaia's powers.~
Rifthealer is looking somewhat cross overall as she pulls herself free of the water with a grimace as if the substance disgusted her, shaking out each paw in turn as she stamps up the bank. Once there, the Hispo turns to Crinos and collects her bag. ~I did teach him.~ She says in reponse to the Lord's statement as she withdraws a corked bottle of water. ~Dagger's Edge, draw the circle. Everyone, place yourselves evenly around the pool in the form of war, present a unified front.~
Dagger's-Edge nods his muzzle down, walking with a slight limp to take position alongside the Coggie theurge. ~Guess we will test how good a student I am,~ the halfmoon notes to his former teacher. Shifting up to Crinos, the Shadow Lord looks to the pond. A slight grimace wrinkles his muzzle, and he sets his claws down into the dirt. The Shadow Lord draws the circle. All around the pond itself. It takes a few minutes, and the circle likely isn't perfect so much as a border around the waterbody. He retakes his position when he is done.
Walks-Middle nods to Rifthealer and takes her place in the circle around the pool, watching Edge as he draws.
Justin quickly backs off a bit and sits at the bark of the elder. He gives a quick deferential nod and watches curiously, saying nothing else. Curious cub. He looks rather pleased that he's not being ordered to leave however.
Finds-The-Path puts himself into place, eyeing the others as they take position, but mostly observing the Ritemasters.
Skip Tracer lumbers toward her own place, and once again drops into a tired sort of flop-sit. Only then does she surge, sluggishly, up through hispo and into crinos. The ungainly sit is maintained, however, with her leaning on her remaining leg.
Guards-Flame steps forward into place and loosens herself up a bit as she quietly clears her throat. She gives a sharp nod to the pair of participants, waiting patiently.
Rifthealer collects up a broken shaft of branch from the ground, quickly drawing more supplies from the bag with a practiced speed. A bundle is withdrawn from the bottom of the leather bag, wrapped tightly with the contents stuffed inside the clean, natural cloth. It is bound to the branch and next taken up is a piece of flint and a honed bit of steel. They are struck together with a sharp rap next to the bundle, which erupts into flame as the sparks touch it and casts of thick, pungent smoke smelling strongly of herbs. This is taken up in one hand, the uncorked bottle of water in the other as she approaches the circle. ~It consumes our world. Our homes. Our hearts. Our souls.~ She speaks in a lilting tone, voice rising and falling as she redraws the circle in pure water. ~We stand unafraid before you, Beast of Corruption. We are all around you as you try to surround us. We -will not fall-.~
As the Rite of Cleansing progresses, the most fascinating section of the rite comes through a slow, but noticeable rising of green mist from the surface of the pond. It lifts up, thick like smoke, and to the wolf's nose that scent is utterly foul. Worse than rotten eggs. Worse than sulfur, or any kind of brimstone. The scent of the Wyrm, unmistakeably so even to the most naive of cubs. It almost overpowers the purifying scent of cleansing herbs, wrapping around, almost like the mist is doing battle with the burning sage and flowers.
Dagger's-Edge starts on his own growl, deep and low, in wolven prayers to the spirit of Gaia that lies buried beneath the taint.
Skip Tracer bares her teeth and snarls wordlessly as the twisting mist reaches her nostrils.
Justin just watches, giving a faint growl at the smell, but holding his spot as he watches closely, trying to see what the other Garou are doing.
Wrinkling her nose, Guards-The-Flame waits as she swells up her chest, taking in a deep breath. Her ears flicker upwards, waiting patiently as a quiet rumble echos deep in her throat.
Finds-The-Path inhales at the wrong time, and snorts the foul stench from his snout. Eyes beginning to well up, he fights to keep his composure.
The torch is brandished as the circles of earth and water are completed, the pungent smoke curling into the air as the light turns the eyes of the Garou to small beacons of reflected yellows and greens. Rifthealer swings it through the rising fog, snarling deep in her throat until it hits a pitch like the low, continual roll of distant thunder. ~Leave this place, remove your stain from the bossom of our Mother whom you have turned from.~ Around the circle, counter-clockwise she paces, standing not as the easy-going Child of Gaia but more like a wraith. She rears up tall, black and white fur a bright burnished copper by the fire, eyes as yellow as the heart of the flame as her voice rises to a fevered pitch. ~Run now, for we will find your heart and rend it with our claws! Flee, coward who hides in shadows and dreams, for we are your /end/! Strike us and we will rise up, poison us and our Rage will burn our blood pure! Flee! For we are Garou, and we will DESTROY YOU!~ At this, the torch is speared into the heart of the pond as the Rite Mistress throws up her head, giving voice to a roaring howl that makes the ground below her shake and seem to echo clear across the Gauntlet and up to Gaia and Luna herself.
Walks-Middle snarls at the smoke and the smell, and a growl rumbles forth from her as well. Only hers... seems to come from her stomach.
Dagger's-Edge's growl gets louder as prayers grow more fervent, and though an ear twitches at Walks-Middle's stomach's growl, he doesn't lose his own concentration. A roar of a howl pushes its way out of the Shadow Lord, hungering for the Wyrm, calling for it to flee from the area or face his waiting jaws.
Tilting her chin up, Guards-The-Flame bellows out her war cry to the night sky above her, puffing her fur out and curling her fists together. She stands her guard rigidily, echoing her beautiful Galliard's song.
Justin isn't an active part of the ritual but can't help himself, letting out a loud howl to join in with the others, his cub voice echoing and being over flown by the others but still adding to the whole.
Finds-The-Path raises his snout to the sky above, pouring the tension from the missed fight into his cry as it entwines itself into the chorus.
Skip Tracer doesn't exactly rise--her missing leg would make that an exercise in futility, or at the very least an embarrassment. So her howl is not nearly so deep, and being no Galliard, it comes nowhere close to some of the others. On the other hand, her howl is far more guttural, and bits of her lingering temper thread audibly through it. And she's loud. That has to count for something.
Walks-Middle tilts her head back and lets out a loud, long howl that joins with the others.
Grey and green intertwine. The Rite of Cleansing, fueled by the spirit of the Garou and the will of their plaintive cries, forcefully pushes against the taint. The air itself seems heavy under the nauseating stench that offends the purifying ritual. The rite reaches its height with the howls that reverberate over the pond and area. The smoke from the burning herbs erupts out of the water as flame hits water and swirls around in the thick air, enveloping the greenish mist. Then, as the smoke dissipates, so too does the rancid odors. All returns to peace and stillness as the echoes fade away. And the quiet from before, once more, is broken by the return of the frog. It wobbles its way out of the water, croaks, and takes one look at the Garou all in warform gathered around the pond bank before diving back into the water.
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