blackwings.

[apotheosis] Key of Heaven
[manip + subt]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 3, 4, 4, 6, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Wyrmbreaker] Lukas waits only for some sign of dismissal or acknowledgment from Iceriver. Then he crosses the distance to Key of Heaven, holding out his hand to clasp forearms as he nears.

"Wyrmbreaker," he introduces himself, "Fostern Ahroun of Thunder, out of the Sept of the Maelstrom." A pause. "Let's go somewhere to talk. Will you gather the pack?"

[apotheosis] Already the sept of Stark Falls is stirring. Various packs may gather and discuss how they might use this to their advantage, discuss it as casually and calmly as one might discuss anything over dinner. Some are going to sleep, others to patrol. Iceriver herself returns to her pack: she is one of three strong Adrens, led by a Philodox. Some come closer to the fire to talk, to ask Finds the Grave questions.

Key of Heaven does not hesitate to take Lukas's forearm. He's a tough read, underneath the obvious tension of having his pack's failure called out before almost the entire sept as though they don't all already know what's going on. Embarrassing. Infuriating. But it isn't rage behind his strong grip on Lukas's arm, and it isn't insecurity that makes him give Wyrmbreaker a nod, and

"-yuf," he says, by way of acknowledgement and hello as their arms part. The others are already coming towards them, without being summoned -- unless he called to them across a totem link. They drift out of the crowd towards Key of Heaven and Wyrmbreaker, coming together with nods and words of greeting.

There are three others. One is in lupus, a coal-black wolf with bright yellow eyes in this form. He's introduced as Sunthief, Cliath Ragabash. Their Philodox, also a Cliath, is a young woman with chocolate-colored hair and skin that still holds a tan from summer. Her left eye is milky white with a severe cataract; the other is pearl-black. It explains her name, Eyes that Wax and Wane, at least in part. But the one giving these introductions, if not the stories behind them, names himself as Threnody for Gaia, Cliath Galliard of the Fianna. His hair is only barely tinted with auburn, but his eyes are a brilliant green. Down his bared, muscular arms are tattoos of vines and leaves. Woadling animals -- stag, frog, horse, dog, eagle.

"We can talk in the camper," he says, and when they lead Lukas to the outskirts of the Kin village, it becomes more and more obvious that the camper once belonged to Threnody, that it has since become simply 'the' camper, not 'his' any longer. It was once pulled by a truck but hasn't been in a long time, a metal bullet of a miniature home that the whole pack uses. It stands on its own, a pickup parked nearby, a dark blue sedan as well. There's a firepit outside with a few chairs set up around it, and a little charcoal grill.

Sunthief flows from one form to another as he enters the camper first, into a surprisingly athletic-looking man who lacks Threnody's sheer physical power and Key's height, but could probably hold his own for longer than a less experienced fighter than Lukas would expect. His hair is razored short, designs etched into the buzz of it, his eyes as dark as Wane's. He looks through the camper quickly, sniffing the air, but it's almost a formality; the others follow before he's exhaled the first sniff.

Inside it's about as cramped as one might expect, as lived-in as one could expect from three Cliaths and two Fosterns sharing a camper. It's also easy to see that they aren't usually all inside at once, that this many moving around in the space is something they aren't all that used to. Key sits, though, and the others soon find places to settle, leaving what room they can for Lukas.

Of course it's Threnody who's the last to sit, offering Lukas a beer as he gets himself one. He looks ready to talk as he takes a seat, but -- like the others -- he waits for Lukas to speak, first.

[Wyrmbreaker] It's a far cry, to be sure, from the closest thing the Unbroken have to a packhouse -- that gleaming, minimalist work of art that Kate calls a home. Or simply, the Loft. Still, Wyrmbreaker doesn't hesitate to enter behind the Ragabash.

It's a fine line he's been given to walk. There's thought behind every gesture, every action he takes -- quick and subtle but present. It was there when he decided to reintroduce himself to Key of Heaven, though surely the other already knew. It was there when he gave his first order -- to go somewhere private, out of the embarrassing sight of Septmates who were all aware now, if they weren't already, that this pack had lost its alpha and failed to find her -- and there again when he followed it up with a question. A request, rather than a demand.

And again, here, as he takes a seat at the tiny dining area: sits as if he were really their Alpha, a part of this pack, but in an area more public than the narrow bunk beds in the back.

He declines the beer. But he accepts some water, if they have any. Takes a drink, holds the cup between his hands for a moment, then sets it aside and addresses the pack.

His pack. For now.

"Before we do anything else," he says, "I want to make one thing clear. I won't pretend I know best for you all. Or that I know any of you at all. I won't pretend I've come to help you out of the pure goodness of my heart. If Iceriver-rhya had not sent me to you, I may never have even known of your predicament. And when she did send me to you, it made the private trials and tribulations of your pack the public rank challenge of a stranger. And there's no way around it: my own self-interest is the ultimate root of my presence here.

"I understand that none of this can possibly be easy for any of you to accept, or even to bear.

"For what it's worth, though, I do want to help you find your true Alpha. Not because I've decided I care deeply about four strangers I've only just met, but because you are a pack, and you were strong enough to have survived this long. That strength is one this Sept will need. And that is important to me. As important as -- more important than -- whether or not I pass my personal challenge.

"Words mean little. Actions mean everything. So we'll look for your Alpha. And if we can, we'll recover her alive. If we can't, we'll avenge her, and I'll see to it that one of you finds or gains the strength to lead this pack when I return to my own."

A small pause.

"One more thing. I don't expect any of you to bow to my leadership simply because your elder handed it to me as a test. If any of you wish to test my right to lead, I stand ready to meet you now."

[apotheosis] The first reaction to Lukas's speech comes not from the Beta, nor the spokesman of the pack, nor the judge, but from the shadow-born, shadow-melded Ragabash sitting on the arm of the narrow couch that's shoved up against one wall of the camper. He lifts his arms and starts a slow clap, his hands going

smack
...

smack

...

-- before Key of Heaven shoots a sharp glance at him. The Ragabash grins a flash of white teeth, looking from Beta and back to Lukas, folding his hands neatly on his knees instead, a bit too prim for words. Obedient.

Lukas hasn't launched straight into questions, asking for details -- or demanding them. Tell me when, what, where. What have you done so far? Why haven't you found her yet? What are you doing wrong? He starts with one of his so-called spiels, explaining where he stands. Nobody interrupts. They are, by and large, shaping up to seem like a pack of rather thoughtful, self-controlled Garou. One has to wonder how long that will last, or how true it is, or if this is just the face they show a stranger who may or may not be unwelcome.

It's Key of Heaven who finally answers: "We have always been led by an Ahroun. It has never been my desire to serve as Alpha. Besides, the right to lead can be given even when it is not won, but is more easily lost." There's a beat of a pause, a flicker of aggravation under the surface. "And it was made clear enough at the fire that the pack is faltering under my leadership," he says, the words carefully considered, steadily spoken.

Picking up a moment after he finishes is Threnody, almost as though they planned this. And given the few moments of silence before anyone opened their mouths, it's possible they did. "As you said, words mean little. Actions mean everything. Ours, in not bringing Starfall back yet. Iceriver-rhya's, in handing us over to you." That rankles. He doesn't even try to hide it. "For my part, I'm willing to follow you. Maybe a new set of eyes will help us find our Alpha."

"Thank you for your forthrightness," says Wane a moment later, the first words she's spoken all evening. Her voice is a bit faraway, as though -- like some Theurges -- she's not entirely present. There's a hitch to it, a lack of confidence almost. Maybe she's being fed her lines. Maybe Lukas makes her uneasy. "I am not... fit to lead."

Sunthief smirks. "Now why challenge you in one big swoop when I can just poke at you over and over when you're least expecting it? Come on, now."

[Wyrmbreaker] [i'm]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 2, 5, 9 (Failure at target 6)

[Wyrmbreaker] [reading]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 2, 4, 6, 9 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Wyrmbreaker] [everyone]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 5, 6, 6, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[Wyrmbreaker] [here!]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 2, 6, 8 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[apotheosis] [Key of Heaven is, as before, borderline unreadable.

Threnody means everything he says. He has his pride, but finding Stormstrike, Starfall is more important to him than that. He seems even to agree with the elder Garou of the sept that they need help, but something else is bothering him. It's unclear what that is, other than that he seems a bit wary. It is worth noting that he refers to their Alpha solely by her Fostern name, Starfall.

Wane has no appreciable skill at hiding herself, and doesn't even seem to realize she's being read. For a Shadow Lord Philodox, she's... well, she's not fit. She's weak. He can smell it on her, almost. That hitch and hesitance isn't talking to spirits or being nervous because of the Big Bad Ahroun in the room, she seems to have some kind of profound social disability. Her gratitude that he speaks plainly about his intentions, however, is quite genuine. One can imagine the trouble she has with the politicking and secrecy of the tribe.

Sunthief is a little shit, but he's not being malicious. He may very well mean to prod and poke at Wyrmbreaker the whole time they're searching for Stormstrike -- not to take leadership, but to test Lukas's.]

[Wyrmbreaker] There are many Shadow Lords who, regardless of how feral or brutal they otherwise may be, cultivate the art of the chessboard. It's a game based on warfare and conquest, after all, and rooted in strategy, subterfuge and massacre. Wyrmbreaker is not one of them. He knows the rules, but he doesn't play well. Even so, he understands the importance of the opening; the way a few simple moves can set the tone of the game ever after.

So he's careful. He looks at every one of them, his pale eyes sharp. He doesn't have time for second glances -- Key of Heaven remains impenetrable, and so he moves on. He looks at Threnody. He stares into Wanes; wonders. Metis? Or simply mad? Hard to tell. Then he glances at Sunthief there at the end, but by then it's his turn again: time to speak to his pack.

"I'll accept suggestions, opinions, advice, and even prodding so long as it gets us closer to our goal. But you've all had a chance to challenge now, and you've all submitted without confrontation." His eyes fall last on Sunthief; stay there. "I will hold you to that."

A moment's pause there. Then he takes another drink of water, emptying his cup, and sets it aside.

"Now," he invites, "fill me in. Start with what you think is most important. I'll ask questions as I need to."

[apotheosis] If they feel his eyes on him, the gathered packmates don't seem to put up much of a front. They all seem a little tired. The weakest one is not the Ragabash, the supposed Omega auspice, but the Philodox, often thought to be primed by birth for leadership or at least good counsel. Wane seems only barely able to express herself, and that ability is thin at best. But: tired, all of them, and it isn't hard to imagine why. Their Alpha's been missing for a week, and not a one of them has any idea where she is or how to get her back, or even what state she's in other than 'alive'.

Not surprisingly, it's Threnody who answers Lukas's question. He is the storyteller, after all. He leans forward, indicating that he's stepping into that role, but he doesn't speak just yet. He thinks for a moment, silently considering.

"Nothing we've tried has brought us any closer to finding Starfall," he says. "Searching for her has been one frustration after another, dead end after dead end. We've used the Rite of the Questing Stone more than once, and it's worthless. It spins in place, pulls straight up or straight down -- and we have climbed as high as we can go, sought the aids of birds to go higher, just as we have dug wherever the stone has told us to descend. It leads us on wild goose chases only to come to a flat stop and just start swaying in the breeze." His hand waves slightly in midair, slowly back and forth, pantomiming the aggravating laziness of the stone. Threnody's hand goes back to the table.

"A little over a week ago, Sunthief caught wind of something ill going on up in the hills northwest of here. He scouted ahead to check it out and came back to tell us he'd found a group of walking skeletons in the clefts and caves, seven of them." Threnody pauses a moment, watching Lukas. "Crinos skeletons, every one of them malformed somehow."

He doesn't say metis. He doesn't need to. He goes on:

"While not a one of us sensed the Wyrm on them, they were obviously extremely aggressive. They'd killed a couple of hikers. They were a great risk to the Veil, so we went back together to put an end to them, one way or another. Wane argued that if they were not of the Wyrm then destroying them was a last resort. Key agreed to try and find a way to send them into the umbra."

Mercy, from Shadow Lords. Imagine that. Even Threnody, saying this, glances at Wane and -- more briefly -- at Key, his eyes flicking between his packmates. Maybe he's still getting over the surprise, maybe this pack is a group of outliers in the sept, who knows. This isn't Chicago. This isn't home.

"They attacked us on sight," continues the Galliard. "We lured them across the Gauntlet, which was a gambit -- we weren't sure they could cross til we tried, and they followed us. But there they went for Starfall immediately. Given the way they'd acted in battle I think they were just going for the strongest fighter, but there's no way to know for sure. They moved like a pack, but we heard no communication, saw no signals between them.

"We know very little about them, actually," he says after a moment. "It's not exactly standard practice, even around here, to investigate the source and creation of every single monster we face, the background to every battle. Now I wish we had learned more before we confronted them. We might know where to look, now, but... I'm getting off track."

He shakes his head, lifting his eyes to Lukas's again from where they'd traveled down to his own hands for a few seconds. "Two of them got a hold of Starfall and dragged her away. The other five turned on us and without our Alpha and Ahroun, and on what I now think is their 'home turf', they started to overwhelm us. Looking back they weren't even trying to kill us, just keep all of us busy while they took her away. I and Sunthief found ourselves on the verge of death, though. Wane and Key will tell you they aren't the toughest warriors; we thought at the time they'd be mincemeat if left to fight these things alone."

Threnody takes a breath. There is shame in his brightly colored eyes, a shadow of it in the background. "Key turned away from the fight to heal his brothers," he says, "and instead of leaping on our sister or on his exposed back, the creatures abandoned us and ran. I was barely conscious, but the last I saw of them, they were leaping one after the other into some kind of... rift, a tear in the air. They were gone, and our Alpha with them."

His mouth is a hard line. "We haven't been able to find her or pick up her -- or their -- trail since. We feel her alive through our bond, but when we call to her... she doesn't answer. For all we know, she's being kept unconscious." He spreads his hands from the tabletop. "We've exhausted almost every idea we've come up with. We've tried things that have failed once just to see if they might work again. We're running out of options, Wyrmbreaker-rhya."

[Wyrmbreaker] Wyrmbreaker is quiet; he listens. He watches the Galliard, but not exclusively; his eyes move to the others too as they are mentioned. Sunthief, who first caught wind of something wrong in the hills. Wane, who argued against destroying those not of the Wyrm:

a longer glance there, thoughtful.

Key, who tried to send them into the Umbra. Who tried to heal his packmates when the skeletal creatures had ahold of their Alpha, were dragging her away. Lukas considers all these things, tries to understand this pack that has suddenly become his, tries to understand not only what they tell him and what they show him but what's beneath the surface. The way they work together. What sorts of wolves these are, that he is being asked to lead. That he must lead.

When Threnody is finished, he nods a time or two. Then he sits forward, elbows on his knees, hands loosely clasped.

"Can any of you think of any possible reason why they might choose to take Starfall, besides that she was the strongest and the leader of this pack? Was there anything, anything at all, to make you think she might have crossed paths with them before, or that they'd marked her out for some purpose, or that they had some specific reason to choose to abduct her?"

[apotheosis] Threnody shakes his head. "I wasn't near her most of the battle. That's how we fight: she puts me close to Wane while she covers Key. Sunthief is usually harrying our opponents, coming up behind them, or backing us up. He keeps his eyes on everything at once. He's a good Ragabash."

This, the Galliard says with firmity, with confidence, without hesitation or challenge. His faith in the smirking Cliath sitting behind him is as blatant as can be, where so many other things he says are veiled, his opinions woven intricately into the story. Moreover, it sets a sort of stage for the way he turns his head and looks at Sunthief, who perks slightly, then sits up a little straighter.

"They seemed pretty braindead, y'know? Glowing red eyes... or eyesockets, I guess, since they didn't have any meat on 'em." Sunthief shrugs with his palms upward, an animated and over the top gesture. "She didn't act or look like she'd recognized 'em or knew how best to fight 'em. Standard orders in our heads, that's all. The stuff you kinda brush off because it's like yeah, yeah, just like that time with those zombie things last summer, whatever." He waves a hand by his ear like he's brushing away a fly. "But I will say this: they were after her from the start, y'know? Went right for her and all but ignored the rest of us til we hit 'em first. That was something."

[Wyrmbreaker] "Okay."

Lukas's hand comes up; he rubs the side of his face, the bristle of his beard harsh across the faint callouses on his palm. His eyes are brilliant even in the rather wan light of the small trailer. They flick between the packmates again, then settle back on the Galliard. Their Theurge is their beta, but it's the Galliard that speaks; the Galliard who, despite his heritage and tribe, seems to hold a position of respect in the pack.

"What about in the week after her disappearance? Have there been any other sightings of the skeletal Crinos?"

[apotheosis] The Theurge and Beta, Key of Heaven, has been leaning back in his chair all this time, arms loosely crossed over his front. Threnody doesn't call him -- or the missing Alpha -- by the honorific of 'rhya'. And he's quiet, like Wane is quiet, watching the exchange between would-be Adren and Cliath.

Threnody shakes his head. "We haven't heard or seen anything. We've told others about them, but nobody's seen them." He hesitates for a moment. Decides, in the end, not to say anything.

[Wyrmbreaker] "What were you going to say?" Lukas prompts -- gently enough, for what it's worth.

[apotheosis] Again, there's hesitation from the Galliard. A struggle with words not seen before, til Key of Heaven says quietly: "Tell him. You've said it when it was just the four of us talking." Threnody flicks his eyes over at the Theurge, who has not moved. And the Theurge, nudging further, adds: "He may as well be Alpha to us, however temporary. Tell him."

Trust him, he may as well be saying.

And Threnody, exhaling slowly, turns back to Lukas. "I think that, given the way they went straight for her and vanished afterward, it's obvious that they're not braindead, that they planned this. Maybe even lured us up there."

"But," Key interjects again, still leaning back, his voice as steady as ever, "that's conjecture."

"Which is why I didn't say it at first," Threnody says, to Lukas still, but there's tension rippling through him at Key's comment.

[Wyrmbreaker] "Sunthief," Lukas addresses the Ragabash directly, "when you first caught wind of these creatures, were you patrolling a route you take often? Or just scouting? I'm asking because if that was your usual patrol, then it's that much more likely that you saw what you were meant to see.

"And Threnody," returning to the Galliard, "tell me more about Starfall. Any notable stories or major deeds that might have spread beyond the Caern borders."

[apotheosis] Again, the Ragabash perks, as though every time someone calls on him to speak up in class he's slightly surprised and a bit worried that they're going to notice he was ignoring the lesson while playing on a DS or the like. His answer is instantaneous, but for the way his eyes seem to search his mind, processing the implications, the discussion.

"We'd all heard about the hikers that were killed, and since this close to a caern you take every 'animal attack' death as something you should check out, I... y'know. Checked it out. It just sorta worked out that way. Reports came in, packs got together to have a fireside chat about it, in our heads Key was like 'hey that's up our alley' and Wane and Thren were like 'hell to the yeah' and Stormstrike was all 'yo, elders, we'll take that one' and then the next thing you know I ran up there to check it out."

He waves his hand. The rest is history.

As for Lukas's question to the Galliard, the answering could take quite a bit of time. He knows the Ahroun's deeds since he met her and since before. He could go on for ages about stories that should be known by all, things she's done, small acts of wisdom, greater acts of glory. But this is Threnody, who is more and more obviously not a waxing member of his auspice. He thinks for a moment, then shakes his head. "She's a Fostern, -rhya. A good Ahroun and Alpha. But these days it seems that even as the human world becomes more and more connected, septs become more and more insular. With the tides of war turning the way they are, I doubt that her deeds were enough to summon some obscure creatures out of the umbra to kidnap her. If that were the case, they would have gone after one of the Adrens. We were unable to kill even one of them. Even a pack of stronger, older wolves would have struggled, I think."

[Wyrmbreaker] "Okay," again. Lukas reaches for his cup -- remembers it's empty, sets it back down. "From what I've heard, it seems like a long shot that these creatures, whatever they are, deliberately and specifically lured this pack up to their home turf. That doesn't rule out that they're luring packs up there, though, and it definitely doesn't rule out the possibility of intelligence, planning, or some mastermind behind their behavior. And if any of those are the case, then they're much more dangerous than some mindless pack of zombie werewolves.

"So that's the assumption we'll operate under. That they're intelligent, and that they might be deliberately targeting the stronger wolves of the Sept.

"I want to go up into these hills. That's the last place where Starfall was seen, so that's where we'll start. We'll try to avoid these creatures and avoid direct confrontation if we can. We need more information first.

"Threnody mentioned that you guys are bound across a totem link. Key of Heaven, would it be possible to appeal to your pack totem and draw me into the link as well? If not, see if you can call on the services of an air or bird spirit to forge a temporary link. I just need to be able to communicate with everyone without speaking aloud."

[apotheosis] [missing from a much earlier roll]
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 2, 6 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[apotheosis] Key of Heaven
[manipulation + subterfuge, not using totem]
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 3, 10 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[apotheosis] [...eh?]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 2, 6, 10 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[Wyrmbreaker] [percep/subt!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 3, 3, 5, 6, 9 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[apotheosis] There's a stirring among the packmates as Lukas stops questioning and starts concluding. He tells them what he thinks, and when he says it's unlikely that this pack specifically was lured, Wane gives a little nod, though the males aren't as forthright with their agreement (or lack thereof). They're reacting to a voice of authority in an almost instinctive, spiritual way, which is all that stirring among them appears to be. Yes. Let's act. Let's move. Even after a week of searching fruitlessly, they are young -- they are not hard to rouse.

At his suggestion, however, Key of Heaven sits up a little. "I'm not sure Crow would sit well with drawing a stranger -- even one acting as packmate and Alpha -- into our link. He's a creature of extreme loyalty. I'll find a spirit of wind, though, to do as you ask."

[Wyrmbreaker] There isn't even a beat of pause. Wyrmbreaker simply nods. "Works for me."

Then he's on his feet, stooping a little to fit the curving ceiling of the tiny trailer. "My former mentor's seen a wider variety of creatures and monsters than some Bringers of Light. I'm going to consult with him, see if he can shed some light on these skeletal Crinos. I'll be back in," a quick glance at his watch - not a grotesquely expensive piece, but solid, well-made, with subtle styling and a simple, elegant face - "ten or fifteen minutes to complete the temporary bond.

"Wane, you're a Philodox, and so is Promised-Rain. Why don't you come along with me?"

[Wyrmbreaker] [i totally didn't just go o_O when you mentioned Crow. also, i totally want Wane to come along just cuz she's a philodox. +WP because OGOD KAHSEENO DON'T FAIL ME NOW.]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 5, 8, 8, 10, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6) [WP]

[Wyrmbreaker] [*offers massive offerings of joy!*]

[apotheosis] [!!!!!]

[apotheosis] you're being watched.
[perception + subterfuge + totem]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 3, 5, 6, 8, 8, 8 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[apotheosis] closely.
[perception + subterfuge + totem]
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 1, 3, 6, 8, 9, 9, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 6 at target 6)

[apotheosis] very, very closely.
[perception + subterfuge]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 2, 8, 10 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[apotheosis] He's the tallest in this room, even considering Key of Heaven -- though the Theurge has a tendency to hunch his shoulders as though to make himself seem smaller than he really is. The trailer isn't made to be stood in, really, so if he's not careful, Lukas will bump not only head but shoulders as well against the ceiling. All the more reason to make haste out of here.

The pack is watching him as he rises, as he speaks. Key is the first to ruffle slightly, speaking up: "We've spread the word to most of the sept about the skeletons, and no one has come forward to offer us any more information. We have not been too proud to ask our septmates for help, Wyrmbreaker-yuf."

As he says this, Wane is already rising, but she pauses when he speaks up, looking over to him as though for permission. It's not hard to miss Threnody watching him, nodding slowly. It's a little less obvious how Sunthief's head just... tips to one side, his twinkling eyes glittering as they peer into the Ahroun.

[Wyrmbreaker] [passive alertness roll: notice sunthief?]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 2, 9, 9 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Wyrmbreaker] [W00T MOAR SOSHAL ROLLZ]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 2, 5, 5, 7 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[apotheosis] Sunthief
[manipulation + subterfuge + totem]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 6, 6, 7, 8, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 7 at target 6)

[Wyrmbreaker] "I have no doubt of that," Lukas replies gently, "but Promised-Rain-rhya has always advised me well in the past, and I'm not too proud to seek every advantage we can get."

There's a note of finality in that. The trailer rocks slightly on its tires as he crosses to the exit. Five Garou packed into a small trailer make for close quarters at best. When Lukas opens the round-edged door to the trailer, the night outside feels refreshingly cool.

"Fifteen minutes," he says. "Have the spirit called and cajoled by then. While Key of Heaven's doing that, I want the rest of you to gather up the following: a map of the area, a flashlight, matches, a couple bottles of water, rope, and any and all talens you think might come in handy. We'll set out after the mind link is forged.

"Wane," he's descending the one or two fold-down steps to the ground outside now, holding the door open for the Philodox to follow.