Clemency Joins Resonance
9/29/2005
03:51 PM
Logfile from GarouMUSH.
Currently the moon is in the waning Crescent Moon phase (25% full).
It is currently 15:47 Pacific Time on Thu Sep 29 2005.
Forest North of Kent Crossing(#3819RJ)
A large expanse of second-growth forest grows about you. Douglas Fir and Western Hemlock are the dominant trees, with more deciduous species present closer to the west. The woods are light, with sunlight or moonlight trickling to the floor of the forest on the occasions when the skies are clear. While some large houses and the sporadic older farmstead dot the few small roads that wind their way through the wilderness, most of it has returned to the natural state. The remnants of human inhabitations past can be seen in the rectangular shaped meadows that were once farms. A few abandoned buildings and the rusted remains of farm machinery lay in some of these grassy areas.
To the west of this area, the Columbia River pushes through the land, with the city of St. Claire on the opposite bank. Interstate 90 crosses the Columbia to the north, following it north-south for a few miles on this side, but generally maintaining its east-west path. To the east is Sunrise Road; one of the more inhabited country roads in the area and to the south is the sleepy town of Kent Crossing.
Contents:
Dakota
Clemency
Alicia
Obvious exits:
East Southwest South
Yi leans up against at tree, just along the edge of the thinning forest that breaks the border between the town of Kent Crossing, and leads further into the wood. The Gnawer plays with the chain looped around her neck, eyes scanning both town and wood, for others in the vicinity.
Familiar with the dusty roads, Dakota doesn't seem to mind the hike from her house in nearby Kent Crossing, especially since she walks these ways most evenings on patrol anyway. Hands stuffed deep into her pockets, the Theurge kicks at a pebble in her way, watching it clatter into the vegitation as she passes by.
Not far behind Dakota, Clemency comes walking in. She seems more than a little tense, and is quite evidently relieved when she claps eyes on Yi and Dakota. "Good day to you," she murmurs politely.
Yi looks up as Dakota and Clemency approach. A small smile goes to her packmate, while the Silver Fang gets a short nod of her head in greeting. "Yes, you are allowed onto the territory of Resonance," she tells Clemency, a slightly wry grin replacing her expression. "At least, I say you are. To answer your question of being permitted here, ahead of time."
Dakota gives Clemency a brief nod, though it seems the mind of the Theurge lingers elsewhere than fully on the present. No real suprise, given the moon's crescent shape, though her lack of blinking and the distant expression of her eyes are a certain change from normal behavior.
Clemency fidgets where she stands and her cheeks color a little. "I apologise if I have not acted in accordance with protocol, Yi-rhya."
Yi waves off the fidgeting with a hand, looking around briefly and pushing off the tree. "I learned a phrase the other day... 'let us not stand on ceremony'. What it meant, I am still a little unclear, but I think it might apply here?" She cocks her head towards Dakota, the theurge's distance seemingly catching the ragabash's attention for a splitsecond.
Showing up late is Alicia, looking to be a bit out of breath as she jogs through the treeline towards the group. "Sorry, sorry." She pants out. "Blew a tire on the road and had to call Triple A to get it towed back." She runs a hand back through her hair to pull away the strands from her eyes.
Dakota gives her head a slight shake as if clearing her thoughts. "We are all here that are coming?" She asks, glancing from one face to another. "Let's go. We should not linger in the Umbra long tonight."
Clemency nods slowly to Yi. "Although Touch Deer slapped my wrist very politely for suggesting in front of our cub that formality and protocol were not always essential... Yes, I am as ready as I ever shall be."
Yi nods in agreement to Dakota, lifting a hand to wave to Alicia. "It is always good to remember the formal ceremony and ways of tradition," she comments to Clemency, "Or else we would forget the past and lose ourselves." She pauses, adding, "And besides, then we would have nothing to talk about when we grow old." The darkish humor is contained within the sentence beneath surface layers, her mild joke lingering before she looks to Dakota and Alicia. "We have never known Eamon to be early to anything anyway. Shall we go?"
Umbra: Forest Trail
The towering greenery of the Umbral forest surrounds you, but for the faint path you stand on and a gap between two trees. Bird-spirits fly through the trees above you. Bizzarely, the woods seem almost slanted. Trees grow taller and vibrantly greener the further east you go, and smaller and more twisted the further west you go. The grasses are tall, almost waist-height on most humans. As with the rest of the Umbra, the woods are cast in eternal twilight, but for an odd glow that shines through the trees west of you. The silence is nearly total, broken only occasionally by a sound from the west or a spirit making noise in the far-off reaches of the forest.
The path runs east and west from here.
Contents:
Dakota
Alicia
Clemency
Ciancarw
Obvious exits:
East West
[look Ciancarw]
A maginificent stag spirit, his coat is a deep, dusty grey-brown, and the rack of softly gleaming antlers is at least 14-points, indicating a spirit of great experience, a spreading canopy that nearly dwarfs him. He exudes an aura of age and power, and spirits around him seem to act respectfully.
The Rite Mistress leads pack and potential to a place deep in their territory where she has come to learn the Gauntlet is not so thick. A small spring bubbles up out of the ground into a pool, making for a tricky but do-able passage across especially once she has gone first to weaken the barrier. Upon arriving in the Umbra, the Theurge is quick to take her hispo form, ears alert for danger.
Ciancarw waits at a small copse of trees that rise tall and slightly off to one side, their crowns reaching like the stag spirit's antler tips, towards the darkly purple colored Umbral sky. The totem glows softly as he walks, pace full of regal nature as fitting of a totem of Honor. When the Garou arrive, the spirit stag stops and waits, looking at them in expectance. For the members of Resonance, the totem still seems to be less in glory than before - maybe due to the knife moon, maybe due to the loss of members of late.
Making her way into the Umbra, Alicia bows deeply before the totem before them, letting out a soft breath. "Good evening, Ciancarw." She says with a rising voice. "We have brought one who wishes to join the family of Stag and Resonance by the name of Fire Burns Forever of the noble Silver Fangs."
Yi pierces the Gauntlet not long after her packmates, herself taking the form of war. Though remaining overall cool and composed, there's no hiding the slight twitch of the Gnawer being nervous when entering the area. It is anticipation of the unknown that reflects through her posture. As they reach the area where the stag spirit waits, she dips her muzzle down low, bending her body in a bow to the spirit.
Clemency has remained in homid for now, allowing herself to drift to the rear of the group as they transport to the umbra and make their way to where the noble stag-spirit awaits them. Following Alicia's introduction, she steps forward, as upright and angular as always, and drops her head in a gesture of respect.
Rifthealer approaches her pack's totem as a pup might greet an adult of the pack, her posture radiating respect and absolute admiration, her usual greetings to the Stag not diminished in the least despite the totem's lack. She speaks for the moment in the language of wolves, remarking how glad she is to see him and pleasure that he has come, before switching to the Mother's Tongue. She translates the words of Alicia, and though she seems to speak no differently than normal, there is a brighter light to her eyes that betrays the more empathic nature of the spirit's language.
Ciancarw swings his great rack up, then down, as if to indicate he has acknowledged them all. The Child theurge is looked to with dark brown eyes that seem to ring with their own visual resonance, deeper than the depths of a river. *Greetings, chosen Children of the Mother. This is the one who wishes to join? One born of the wolves with fangs and fur like silver. One of the family of Calls-the-Spirits-to-Battle.* He then directs his gaze at the Silver Fang, that same sort of examination going on. *Why?*
Shifting her gaze to the Silver Fang, Alicia steps out of the way to allow the pair of them the room to speak amongst each other.
Runner stands to a side as well, beside Alicia, watching and listening the packtheurge's translation and Clemency's replies. The Gnawer's eyes seem very focused on the conversation at hand.
Clemency drops herself down to lupus form, the better to move alongside Rifthealer and to have the totem's questions, incomprehensible to her, conveyed to her through wolven dialogue. Yes, yes, she responds. I seek to be a good and honorable Garou and that means being in a pack. And of the packs in this area none is so honorable as this, none has a totem so proud and noble.
Ciancarw strides forward, antlers making him seem even taller than he ought to be, approaching the Fang. The stag's nostrils flare with a noisy spurt of twin breathy plumes. *Your past has not been honorable, though you are of Falcon's brood.* This the totem states with a heavy seriousness, with the theurge being able to catch a nuance of offense taken.
Runner looks amused at something, though when the totem makes mention of Clemency's past, the ragabash looks back to the Fang. Her large ears tilt back.
The Child of Gaia Elder remains quiet as she listens, arms crossing over her chest a bit as she rests her weight into a tree.
Rifthealer lingers near the side of the Stag, passing the words of Fang and spirit back and forth. Even at his displeasure, the Theurge remains the neutral medium between the pair, showing little expression at all.
No, that is so, the white wolf admits freely enough. I have done good things but I have done bad things too. (At the mention of the bad thing her tail tucks right down humbly). But I wish to put the bad behind me and become honorable once more now. With one such as you to guide me it may help me.
Ciancarw snorts again, head tossing upwards. *Why do you come to me now? What deeds do you have to prove yourself worth my favor, Falcon-Child?* As a king looking down upon a vassal, the spirit's question rings out with a short bugle and a stamp of his forehoof into the shadowgrasses. *You are a fullmoon, and I can smell the Beast in you as easily as I see it. You out of all here know the grip of frenzy too well. Too well.*
Fire-Burns's tail remains tucked and her ears go flat. I know, she admits. I am full of the Beast and I do not always control it. I fight like a creature possessed when there is an enemy to kill. But sometimes I fight when I should not fight. That is wrong. Yes. Wrong. The ahroun seems on the point of turning and slinking away.
*Those of the Falcon's Brood have much pride in them. They often do not know their own faults, or know them too well.* He turns to those of Resonance, gauging each member. Then he looks back down at the ahroun, head lower down, brown eyes staring deep into the Fang's. *I have a test. Come.* The stag spirit turns, taking a path into the woods on feet that seem to float over the grass rather than bear weight.
Rifthealer gives Fire-Burns a brief chuff as she translates for the Stag before turning and following after the totem.
Fire-Burns's ears rise back up in part as she regains a more normal posture and walks quietly after the spiritual stag, glancing and sniffing at the other garou as she follows.
Alicia glances over to Clemency and says simply. "Get your head up and show that Silver Fang confidence you have shown this Sept. Ciancarw wants strong pack mates, not puppies."
Runner herself shifts to hispo, tongue lolling. ~Pride of the Falcon can have two edges, not just one,~ she comments in similarity to the totem's words. Her eye roves over the ahroun as they walk.
Ciancarw leads the group to a clearing, though it seems not far from where they were, the Umbra's sense of distance seems to grow greatly. *There,* Ciancarw indicates with a swing of his head. Off in the distance, a pitiful wail that grates on the ears can be heard, with some kind of spirit producing the noise. *Falcon-Child, you will help those you wish to join in dealing with the spirit that is making that pathetic sound.*
The white wolf's ears swivel right back up, now. She cocks her head alertly. I go to deal with it, she says, and off she goes, walking swiftly rather than running, nose, ears and eyes all alert to her umbral surroundings.
Rifthealer settles into silence as the hispo'd Theurge follows the majectic totem, nose testing the air as her ears turn towards the wail. She turns to regard her pack on what to do next, though her eyes fall on the Ahroun most of all.
The source of the wailing cries out again, the closer one gets making the sound like nails on a chalkboard magnified with a megaphone and mixed with a microphone feedback. It comes from a hideous looking creature, spikes spreading out every which way from its back, with a thick reptilian looking head and serpentine body slithering upon the ground. Feeble human-like limbs spread out vestigially from four points on its snake's body. The spirit looks ragged, translucent. It is clearly injured. When the Silver Fang comes upon it, the keening stops and it turns upon the ahroun, rearing up and rattling its spikes together. Huge fangs spread out of its open mouth to hiss at the ahroun.
Sliding into the Lupus form, Guards-The-Flame flops her rump to the ground and watches with a curious look into the distance, ears twitching upwards.
Runner follows after, her turn to trail the back of the group. When they come upon the keening snake, the ragabash's muzzle wrinkles up.
Fire-Burns comes to a dead stop a little distance away from the spirit, hackles rising and a low growl emerging from her mouth unbidden in response to its spike-rattling. Ugly, ugly, nasty, her response comes to the other garou. She seems poised to pounce upon it, but for now, she remains thus poised without moving closer.
Rifthealer regards the defensive being with a rather unimpressed but slightly curious look. ~But what manner of spirit is it.~ She remarks as though speaking to herself, head tilted slightly to one side as she stands still and stiff.
The spirit hisses again, and turns as more and more Garou seem to show up. Displeasure known, the snake snaps its jaws open and shut, open and shut. Somehow, it seems to float backwards in slow retreat. *Go Away!* it shrieks in the spirit's tongue. *I will bite you, and it will hurt! Leave!*
Guards-Flame rumbles quietly in her throat as she stares at the snake like creature. She looks tense and on edge, as if she could strike any moment. She remains rooted in place, glancing over to the Silver Fang.
Runner licks the front of her muzzle, looking to her packmates first and then to the fullmoon. ~What should we do?~ she rumbles, stalking forward and trying to circle around the spirit.
Fire-Burns snfsnfs in the spirit's direction. If it makes this noise, she points out to the others, it will attract other spirits and that will be the end of it. If it is good spirit we should help it. If not we should kill now and end the noise.
~This spirit says it will bite us and that we should leave.~ Says Heals-the-Rifts as she sniffs in the spirit's direction. ~What will you do, Fire-Burns? This is your test.~
Spike the Snake suddenly glows whitely around its eyes, rearing back and spitting down at the Fang. The spit hits the ground in front of the ahroun's paws, spattering like milky white sap like that of broken dandelion stalks. The concoction sizzles and steams, bubbling upon the ground. It seems to be more and more irritated the longer it is threatened by the Garou, hissing and rattling its spikes.
Fire-Burns growls again. I would kill it, she comments coldly. But the last time I killed a spirit... bad things happened. Is it of the Wyrm? I cannot tell.
Runner hops back when the snake spits out, eyeing the impact, then the spirit itself. She glances around, looking for the stag spirit that seems to have been left behind.
Rifthealer stretches her nose forward briefly, inhaling strongly as she stares at the spirit. Then, her conclusion having been reaches, she takes a few steps back. ~It does not smell strongly. Taint lingers, as it does on most these dark days.~ It's not a very clear answer, but then what Theurge ever gave a truely straight response?
Guards-Flame darts back a bit at the spit that levels the ground, raising up her hackles a bit as she snarls towards the spirit. If it is not of the Wyrm, then why does it attack?
Fire-Burns thrusts her nose forward for one more sniff at the spirit, eyes blazing. Then, jerkily almost as though she's suddenly being pulled by an invisible collar and leash, she swings round and walks away, not turning back, not hesitating. No threat, she comments determinedly. No threat to us, no threat to Gaia, so no fight.
Whatever the response, the spirit seems to have enough of it. The snake keens again, and coils itself as if to strike. Its fangs reveal, dripping with that white sap. The spirit leaps forward, snapping, and missing the Silver Fang ahroun by too-close-to-call. When it realizes it misses, the snake sweeps its head back in a similarly jerky movement from the ahroun.
~Why does anything cornered attack?~ Riddles the Rite Mistress as she dances back as the spirit strikes, lips peeling back reflexivly as she drops her head. Hackles ruffle, but she remains largly quiet and makes no motion to attack.
For a second, when the spirit springs at her, the Silver Fang turns and seems about to pounce back at it. But then with an evident effort of will she swings back round again. Leave it! she howls to the others. It fears us. She breaks into a canter to put as much space between herself and it as possible, as quickly as possible.
Guards-Flame twitches her ears upwards once more and growls in warning to the spirit, then turns and starts off after Fire-Burns, eyes narrowed tightly in thought.
Runner growls again, mixing it into a snarl as she half-jumps forward, her reflexive counterdefensive aborted at the snap from the ahroun. She turns, reluctantly, and backs up from the spirit. A hesitant eye goes to Guards-Flame.
As soon as the Fang turns and canters off, her path becomes blocked with another spirit. Ciancarw returns, leaping seemingly out of nowhere in the forest, and right into the path of the Fang. He looks down upon the ahroun once more, gauging, one prideful animal to another.
Fire-Burns pulls herself up sharply, once more lowering her head and tucking her tail in respect to the spirit. There's a considerable tenseness about her stance.
Rifthealer lingers most of all, still paying keen attention to the spirit with her ears swept forward and her nose sniffing again. In the end, she reluctantly pulls away to follow the others, eyes settling onto the Stag as he comes into view.
Ciancarw raises his head, looking past the ahroun to the snake spirit beyond. That look is no more than a second, before he looks back down to the ahroun. *Child of Falcon, you still have much to learn of your purposes and of your power,* the spirit intones with another stamp of his hoof. *But with no purpose to your claws and fangs, you will be powerless. You will be lost.* He looks up to the others of the pack, glowing just a little. *I will be her guide, for as long as she serves the right purposes. And my purposes.*
Runner bows her muzzle when Ciancarw appears again, and when the spirit 'speaks', she looks to the theurge. ~In? Out? Which will it be?~
Guards-Flame turns her head to regard the Theurge as well, nose sniffing the air.
Fire-Burns waits in her position, like a white wolf statue.
Those looking behind to where the snake had been, find that the spirit has left the area with speed, or faded away into other dimensions of existence.
Rifthealer turns her focus straight onto Fire-Burns, eyes not wavering from those of the Ahroun and for the moment she seems more than just the youngest wolf, but the voice of the Stag himself. ~Leadership is not one moment in history, nor is it one decision out of many more unmade. As a pack, we strive everyday for a greater height, to prove we are of honor and dignity. You have more to learn of your purpose and power, Fire-Burns-Forever, or else be lost. He will watch over you, so long as you live an honorable life and strive for his purposes. Sink into dishonor and he will part from you.~
Ciancarw dips his head low then, his great trophy rack of antlers coming dangerously close to piercing the fullmoon's face where she stands. Then the spirit touches his antlers against the top of the ahroun's head, first with the left, then with the right antler. Like a knighting ceremony, save that it is done from spirit of prey to spirit of predator. The stag spirit then lifts his muzzle up high and bugles a call that rings out through the forest. It reverberates through the air with great energy, filling those in his pack beneath the moon, before turning and leaping off down the path back towards Kent Crossing, grace and agility in the spirit's path enough to make a professor of Juliard cry with awe.
Fire-Burns doesn't respond for several seconds, as though she truly has become a statue. Then she unfreezes. I shall strive to be worthy of you, she replies formally, but with pride and happiness both shining through her body language. I shall learn and I shall master myself and become a better garou. And then she shifts up to crinos, her strong pale-furred form looming up from the umbral shadow. ~This I vow before you all, now my packmates. Hear these words of a Silver Fang.~
Guards-Flame dips her head in acknowledgemet of Heals the Rifts words and turns her eyes once more towards Fire Burns, regarding her for a moment, before letting out a light chuff. ~We are the pack which leads the Sept, the Alphas, not the Omegas. We need to be the example~ With that, she starts off through the territory.
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