Saturday, August 20, 2011

war.

-retelling-

[All right! I'll give you guys a minute to make all the preparation rolls you need to while I write an opening post for FINAL BATTUL.]

Brutal Revelation

[steelfur. -1WP, science + stamina (in hispo)]

Dice: 8 d10 TN7 (4, 5, 5, 6, 6, 7, 7, 9) ( success x 3 )

Brutal Revelation

[also -1WP for RP. at some point in battle (ST discretion, IDC!) will use Call of the Wyld to distract and disrupt enemies to up their diff temporarily]

[Stamina + Empathy for CotW]

Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (2, 2, 3, 5, 5, 7, 9) ( success x 2 )

Sidewalk's End

[I CHOOSE YOU, GORTAK: summoning a jaggling]

Dice: 6 d10 TN5 (2, 3, 5, 5, 8, 9) ( success x 4 )

Sidewalk's End

[mood]

Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (1, 1, 4, 4, 8, 10) ( fail )

Sidewalk's End

[1s don't count, so 2 suxx!]

Sidewalk's End

[and electricity: -1 diff (spirit magnet)]

Dice: 6 d10 TN4 (3, 5, 7, 7, 7, 9) ( success x 5 )

Sidewalk's End

[mood (Gnosis -1 after giving some to Gortak to make it happee)]

Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 4, 7, 10) ( success x 1 )

Sidewalk's End

[again, 2 suxx!]

Sidewalk's End

[Maddox also applies Green Dye to self, has 8 more to hand out to other Fianna should they like it; if successful attackers roll WP vs. diff 4 (da fuq) to attack]

Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (4, 4, 8, 9) ( success x 2 )

Brutal Revelation

[OH AND SINCLAIR HANDS OUT SOME GHOST CAMO TO ANY IRON RIDER RAGGIES THERE MAY BE. THEY COULD USE IT. Cuz if you're wearing it and skulking in shadows, it takes a per/alert roll diff 9 to spot them. they become visible after attacking or taking action, but can regain benefits of the talen if they find cover afterward.]

-retelling-

There's this at least: the Caern has the day to prepare.

There are not enough Garou, even with Billy Bourne's people on board, to defend the entire bawn and the kin village besides. They pull back - sacrifice their farms and their homes to withdraw to the very innermost heart of the Caern, rife with water and green life.

This is a land where the kin are normally forbidden to tread, but today is different. Today, the kin enter the Caern's heart, apprehensively at first, and then with growing boldness and a burgeoning sense of belonging. They come armed with flintlock rifles and pistols. And with throwing spears, knives for close work. Some lurk in the trees. Others take their places behind makeshift cover built of fallen trees and boulders. Those too young or too weak or too pregnant to fight huddle in the center, preparing rough bandages, herbal medicines.

While the kin are setting up their defenses, the Garou too are working. Teams of Crinos dig in great heaves of their paws, dirt flying every which way. A drymoat is carved around the heart of the Caern - a circle some thirty or forty feet in diameter, and ten feet deep. While some dig, others are stripping branches from trees, whittling the ends down to deadly points. These spikes are installed in the drymoat and just within its circle. Every point faces out: a treacherous barrier against what's coming.

Noon rolls to afternoon. The heat is immense, but no one flags. There is a thick tension about the Caern. It's there beneath the coarse jokes, the orders bellowed, the moments of almost-violent disagreement between Senachewine's people and Throat Cutter's. It's there, always there, and it is underlain by fear. Throat Cutter strides amongst his people, bellowing orders, checking defenses, spitting boasts about the upcoming fight. Others are less upbeat: Bloody Smile's pack in particular is grim and silent, whittling stakes with angry strokes, slamming them into the moat. No one stops for lunch, but food is prepared and passed around by the kin, and now and then a Garou stops in the midst of digging or whittling to stand still and eat meat off the bone, drink clear water or ale.

Afternoon to evening. The drymoat is complete, the ring of stakes within it as well. The kin are protected behind various barriers, weaponry in hand. The Garou are assembling for battle, snarls and howls crowding the air alongside shouts, calls. The Fianna have three packs, and Throat Cutter insists that all three face the west, the direction of the Wyrm's supposed advance. The Unbroken stand between Throat Cutter's pack and the Warder's. To Throat Cutter's other side, Senachewine's own small pack, Colleen amongst them; then the remnants of Smile's pack. In all, this group covers perhaps a third of the circle. The rest of Senachewine's people, far outnumbering the Fianna, ring the remainder of the circle. It is obvious that if damage is distributed evenly, Senachewine's people will take the greater brunt of the casualties.

They do not complain about this. Perhaps it was expected.

Evening to dusk. As the light dies, so too does the noise. The shouting, the howling, the digging, the pounding. All of it falls to a breath-caught silence, and as the sun sets in the west,

the Unbroken's last twenty-four hours in this world beginning,

all eyes turn to the west. Waiting. There is no conversation now. Beside Sinclair and Maddox, the Lord and Fang of their pack are softly glowing, the Fang in Hispo, the Lord in Crinos. His ancestor's sword is in his hand, and not because he intends to use it. Perhaps he draws some strength from it. It glitters in the dying light of the day. To his other side, Throat Cutter is growling under every breath, eyes burning on the western woods. The bawn is eerily empty. They can see the abandoned challenge circle, the assembly area; they can see the huts and cottages of the kin, every window dark, every chimney breathless. And far beyond that, the treeline.

The last of the light is dying. Torches are being lit, sputtering in the wind. Throat-Cutter snarls beneath his breath, "What keeps the cowards?"

And suddenly, from above, a call from one of the kin, equal parts anxiety and excitement and fear and dread: "I think I see somethin'!"

Seconds later:

"They're comin'!"

Brutal Revelation

So they are. And all of this is agonizingly familiar. Her pack screaming in her mind. The electricity and the charge and the warp and weft of time around her as she traveled through phone lines that don't even exist in this time to join them. The death of Garou she knew and fought alongside. The death of kin. The look in Lukas's eyes near the end, and she knew, she knew because she was thinking of it too: mates left behind. At least hers was far, far away from the carnage. She looks towards the horizon.

At least back in her own time, she didn't have to wait for them. Let them come already.

Sidewalk's End

Maddox helps with the physical set-up for a while, lending an extra pair of claws to tear up soil, or another shoulder to drive a spear into the ground. Despite the tension that thrums through the battle preparation, he bumps shoulders with anyone who happens to wander close enough, cracking wise, earning tense smiles and angry looks alike. He encourages boasting, but rarely contributes. Maddox's strength isn't in his arms.

When the sky begins to darken toward dusk, he passes around spare talens before summoning up his own warriors. Some Theurges call on Earth. Maddox calls up something a touch stronger. When Gortak arrives, a great earthen golem with a shining jewel at its shoulder, its less than pleased to see the scrawny Fiann. Maddox spreads his hands in supplication and explains this rag tag group of Garou's need.

Next, the air of the camp charges with Electricity, equally unhappy to be drawn to this place. Maddox depletes a little more of his spiritual energy to appease the elemental.

And then, they're comin'.

Maddox, Crinos formed, a golem to one side, a ball of electricity spitting sparks at his shoulder, waits with his pack.

-retelling-

At first there's nothing. No sound, no movement to lend credence to the sentry's report.

And then - very distantly - a mechanical grind and whirr. The sound of steam and pistons, and the rapidly, steadily growing thud of something very heavy advancing. Soon after that, cracks and snaps of branches breaking. A lone hyena-cackle in the darkness,

and then another, and then another,

until the western woods resounds with the demented howls and shrieks and laughter of the Wyrm.

Sinclair is standing beside Seamus. The Ragabash is in hispo, lanky and bony even in this massive form. He is literally quivering: with nerves, with anticipation, with terror. The noise swells and rises from the yet-unseen ranks of the Dancers, and suddenly something seems to rupture within the Ragabash, and he throws his head back and looses a cracking, unpretty howl of defiance. In an instant the sound catches and spreads like wildfire, until nearly every Gaian is howling right back at the Wyrm, throwing their voices against the tide.

And then the tide breaks. And the trees quiver and erupt, and the first one out - the first thing out - is a monstrosity of rusted metal and grinding gears, steam-driven pistons and great gnashing steel teeth. It is slow, and methodical, and in no hurry at all. Shrieking Dancers burst out of cover around it, racing breakneck across the empty bawn, toward the waiting line of the Gaian defenders.

"[i]Let them 'ave it, lads![/i]"

Projectiles loosed overhead. Spears whistling through the air, drowned out by the deafening explosions of primitive firearms. Three or four of the Dancers yelp and fall, cut down on their charge. No one here has a cartridge-loaded rifle. Everyone fires, then reloads. It takes seconds, precious seconds, and meanwhile the Dancers are racing across the distance, hideous deformed things, a vanguard of the craziest, meanest, most death-wishing motherfuckers the Wyrm could dredge up. They are coming straight for the western rim of defenders, and Throat Cutter is bellowing for backup, get to the western side, now, someone keep an eye on the east but get your asses here,

and Sinclair and Maddox can see the moment four or five of the Dancers see them, mark them, alter course to come straight at them.

Beside them, Lukas bares his teeth. Garou all around and crying out the names of totems and ancestors, Gaia and gods. Lukas roars into their minds:

For our future!

[reaction post if you wanna - then inits! meanwhile i gotta roll some shit for lukas.]

Brutal Revelation

[+10]

Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (7) ( success x 1 )

Sidewalk's End

[+7]

Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (9) ( success x 1 )

-retelling-

[Lukas:

-1 WP to Resist Pain

-1 Gn to bloody bandage - and honestly, he'll give one to each packmate, and damn the pissed off leechspirits. THIS. IS. CHICAGO! since i didn't mention this til now, you can retroactively spend a Gn to activate for +6 hp.

-1 Gn Luna's Armor, rolling it!]

Dice: 10 d10 TN7 (2, 2, 3, 3, 4, 5, 7, 7, 9, 9, 10, 10, 10) ( success x 8 ) Re-rolls: 3 [WP]

Sidewalk's End

[Gortak: +10]

Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (2) ( fail )

Brutal Revelation

[-1G for BB! W00T. INVINCIBLE!SINCLAIR.]

Sidewalk's End

[Electricity: +6]

Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (7) ( success x 1 )

-retelling-

[Spirit of the Fray active. ALSO ACTIVATING SILVER CLAWS CUZ I NEVER GET TO USE THAT :DDD for the record though, after this round i'll probably drop lukas into the background unless he does pack-buffing actions to cut down on the rolls i need to do!

rolling to activate silver claws.]

Dice: 6 d10 TN7 (4, 4, 7, 8, 9, 10) ( success x 5 ) [WP]

-retelling-

[+20!]

Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (4) ( fail )

-retelling-

[Astaroth +20]

Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (7) ( success x 1 )

-retelling-

[Beelzebub +10]

Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (8) ( success x 1 )

-retelling-

[Carabia +10]

Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (5) ( fail )

-retelling-

[Demogorgon +18]

Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (4) ( fail )

-retelling-

[Eligos +10]

Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (2) ( fail )

-retelling-

[ORDER OF INITS

Astaroth 27
Lukas 24
Demogorgon 22
Beelzebub 18
Sinclair 17
Maddox 16
Carabia 15
Electricity 13
Eligos 12
Gortak 12]










Sidewalk's End

[Gortak:
1a: Try to get to where friendlies are out of blast radius
1b: Umbraquake!]



Sidewalk's End

[Gortak target: Demogorgon, Beelzebub, Carabia, Eligos, so long as friendlies are out of blast radius]

-retelling-

[Eligos

1. Allies Below - cave in a section of spiky wall!
R1. If wall down: claw Maddox! Otherwise, leap!
R2. Bite Maddox!]



Sidewalk's End

[Electricity: 1a: Lightning blast Eligos
1b: Lightning blast Eligos]


-retelling-

[Carabia

1. Leap the wall!
R1. Touch of the Eel on Sinclair!
R2. Bite Sinclair!]



Sidewalk's End

[Maddox: Summon Water]

Brutal Revelation

[1a.
1b.
1c. -- bites on Carabia, switch to Eligos if Carabia goes down
R1. take hit for Maddox
R2. bite Eligos]





-retelling-

[Demogorgon

1. Horns of the Impaler: charge the wall to knock a section down!
R1. Bite Lukas
R2. Bite Lukas
R3. Bite Sinclair

Beelzebub

1. Leap the wall!
R1. Bite Sinclair
R2. Bite Maddox]






-retelling-

[Astaroth

1a. Leap!
b. Chomp Lukas!
R1. Chomp Lukas!
R2. Chomp Maddox!
R3. Chomp Lukas!

Lukas

1. Block Astaroth's leap! I.e. try to dunk him into the pit o' doom!
b.
R1
R2
R3 - clawing: Eligos, Beelzebub, Demogorgon, in that order. Unless Astaroth makes his leap. In that case, claw his ass]









-retelling-

[Astaroth: leaping! Considered vertical due to clearing wall o' spikes. This will be resisted by a block. Need 3 succ after block to clear the wall]

Dice: 8 d10 TN6 (1, 4, 7, 7, 8, 8, 8, 9) ( success x 5 )

-retelling-

[Lukas: block!]

Dice: 12 d10 TN6 (1, 1, 2, 2, 4, 5, 6, 6, 7, 8, 10, 10) ( success x 4 )

-retelling-

[screw the ones! that's 6 succ, dammit! though astaroth also got 6 succ. cancels to zero - astaroth falls into pit. damage roll, spikes o' doom (lethal)]

Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (3, 3, 3, 6, 8, 10, 10) ( success x 4 )

-retelling-

[soak!]

Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (1, 1, 4, 5, 6, 8, 9) ( success x 1 )

-retelling-

Astaroth: b. OW. GET OUT OF PIT.

Lukas: b. Clawing Eligos!

Dice: 14 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 2, 3, 5, 5, 5, 7, 8, 9, 9, 10, 10, 10) ( success x 6 )

-retelling-

[whoops, wrong # of dice - should be 13 in crinos. will just drop a succ for 6 (cuz of 1). silver dam!]

Dice: 14 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 2, 2, 3, 3, 3, 4, 5, 8, 8, 8, 9, 10) ( success x 4 )

-retelling-

[Demogorg: CHAAARGE!]10

Dice: 10 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 3, 4, 6, 6, 7, 9, 10, 10) ( success x 5 )

-retelling-

[Damage that wall o' doom!]

Dice: 17 d10 TN6 (2, 3, 3, 4, 5, 5, 5, 6, 6, 7, 7, 8, 9, 9, 10, 10, 10) ( success x 10 )

-retelling-

[Wall o' doom has giant gaping hole in it. Henceforth enemies in Unbroken's vicinity only need to make a long jump, not a high jump, to get through.]

-retelling-

[Beel: leap! long jump! thanks demo buddy!]

Dice: 10 d10 TN3 (2, 3, 5, 6, 6, 6, 7, 8, 8, 10) ( success x 9 )

Brutal Revelation

[1a!]

Dice: 10 d10 TN5 (1, 2, 4, 6, 6, 7, 8, 8, 9, 9) ( success x 6 )

Brutal Revelation

[damage! 8+6]

Dice: 14 d10 TN6 (1, 1, 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 5, 8, 8, 9, 9, 10, 10) ( success x 2 )

Brutal Revelation

[Actually that was SIX SUXX, TYVM]

-retelling-

[soak!]

Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (3, 4, 4, 5, 7, 10) ( success x 2 )

Brutal Revelation

[1b! still on Carabia!]

Dice: 9 d10 TN5 (1, 1, 3, 4, 4, 4, 4, 7, 8, 10) ( success x 1 ) Re-rolls: 1

Brutal Revelation

[damage. 8+3!]A

Dice: 11 d10 TN6 (3, 4, 4, 6, 6, 7, 8, 8, 8, 9, 10) ( success x 8 )

-retelling-

[owww]

Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 2, 7, 7, 8) ( success x 2 )

-retelling-

x_X

Brutal Revelation

[1c. switching to Eligos as declared!]

Dice: 8 d10 TN5 (1, 2, 3, 7, 8, 8, 9, 9) ( success x 4 )

Brutal Revelation

[damage! 8 + 4]

Dice: 12 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 4, 4, 4, 5, 6, 6, 7, 8, 8, 10) ( success x 5 )

-retelling-

[owwwww]

Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (3, 5, 8, 9, 10, 10) ( success x 4 )

-retelling-

[incap!]

Sidewalk's End

[Reflexive totemspeech: Have I told you guys lately that I love you?

Summon Watah!]

Dice: 6 d10 TN5 (2, 4, 5, 5, 9, 10) ( success x 4 )

Sidewalk's End

[happee?]

Dice: 3 d10 TN6 (4, 4, 8) ( success x 1 )

Sidewalk's End

[Electricity: BZZAP Astaroth]

Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (3, 7, 7, 9, 10) ( success x 4 )

-retelling-

[soak!]

Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (1, 1, 3, 3, 9, 9, 10) ( success x 1 )

Sidewalk's End

[OH NO YOU DI'IN'T: BZZAP AGAIN]

Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (2, 6, 9, 9) ( success x 3 )

-retelling-

[soak!]

Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (5, 5, 6, 7, 9, 9, 10) ( success x 5 )

Sidewalk's End

[Gortak: SHAKEY SHAKEY UMBRAQUAKEY: damage is half suxx rounded up]

Dice: 8 d10 TN6 (1, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 8) ( success x 3 )

-retelling-

[FML! don't fall into the pit again!]

Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (1, 4, 5, 6, 9, 9) ( success x 2 )

-retelling-

[soak damage]

Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 3, 4, 6, 8, 10) ( success x 2 )

-retelling-

[Astaroth:

R1. NOW I'M MAD. CHOMP LUKAS!]

Dice: 10 d10 TN5 (1, 1, 3, 5, 5, 6, 7, 9, 9, 9) ( success x 5 )

-retelling-

[that's 7 succ!]

Dice: 14 d10 TN5 (1, 2, 4, 5, 6, 7, 7, 7, 7, 8, 9, 9, 9, 9) ( success x 10 )

-retelling-

[that actually was 10 succ, btw - forgot to change diff. stupid jove. ack soak!]

Dice: 15 d10 TN6 (2, 2, 3, 3, 3, 3, 4, 4, 6, 6, 7, 7, 9, 10, 10) ( success x 7 )

-retelling-

Lukas: OW MOTHERFUCKER. Claw Astaroth, since he's (finally) made his leap!

Dice: 13 d10 TN6 (1, 1, 1, 3, 3, 3, 4, 6, 6, 7, 8, 8, 9, 10, 10) ( success x 5 ) Re-rolls: 2

-retelling-

[that's 8, goddammit. damage!]

Dice: 16 d10 TN6 (1, 1, 2, 2, 4, 5, 6, 6, 6, 7, 7, 8, 9, 10, 10, 10) ( success x 8 )

-retelling-

x_X. 7 Overkill, which means... I CAN USE RENEWED VIGOR! Reflexive -1WP, all allies gain charisma in Rage (i.e. 3)

-retelling-

Demogorgon:

MAI FREND DED. I NOT HAPPEE. BITE LUKAS!

Dice: 9 d10 TN5 (2, 2, 4, 6, 6, 8, 9, 9, 9) ( success x 6 )

-retelling-

[Damage!]

Dice: 13 d10 TN5 (2, 2, 3, 3, 3, 5, 5, 6, 6, 7, 7, 10, 10) ( success x 8 )

-retelling-

[FML STOPPIT]

Dice: 15 d10 TN5 (1, 1, 1, 2, 3, 6, 6, 6, 7, 7, 7, 8, 8, 8, 10) ( success x 7 )

-retelling-

[I AM MADE OF IRON. that was 10succ]

-retelling-

[dammit i forgot to change diffs again. doesn't affect lukas's roll, but demo's damage was actually just 6.]

Beelzebub:

I'ma go cut my teefs on the shiny one. Bite Sinclair!

Dice: 8 d10 TN5 (2, 4, 5, 5, 5, 6, 9, 9) ( success x 6 )

-retelling-

[dam!]

Dice: 12 d10 TN6 (2, 2, 3, 3, 5, 5, 5, 7, 7, 7, 10, 10) ( success x 5 )

Brutal Revelation

[Soak! 6 +3]

Dice: 9 d10 TN6 (2, 5, 6, 6, 7, 9, 9, 9, 10) ( success x 7 )

Brutal Revelation

[R1. Fuck you, B.]

Dice: 13 d10 TN5 (2, 2, 2, 3, 3, 4, 5, 6, 6, 7, 7, 8, 9, 10, 10) ( success x 9 ) Re-rolls: 2

Brutal Revelation

[damage! 8+8]

Dice: 16 d10 TN6 (1, 1, 1, 2, 3, 3, 4, 5, 7, 8, 8, 8, 9, 9, 10, 10) ( success x 5 )

Brutal Revelation

[Actually 8]

-retelling-

Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (1, 3, 3, 5, 5, 6) ( fail )

-retelling-

1 succ :[

-retelling-

INCAP!

Brutal Revelation

Lukas 24
Demogorgon 22
Beelzebub 18
Sinclair 17
Maddox 16
Electricity 13
Gortak 12]


If there is one thing Sinclair has learned about surviving battles -- particularly against numerous foes -- it's that if you can't focus all of the pack's energies on a single opponent, each member of the pack should focus on a single attacker until they're put down. Cut them off one by one. So she goes for the first one she pins eyes on and destroys him in two quick bites, ripping open his intestines, snapping at his throat. She turns on another, one already clawed at by her alpha, and drops him to the ground with her teeth shredding up under his arm, opening up the side of his chest.

Two spirals fall bloody to the ground in moments after she joins the fray. Whatever else is on her mind -- banging her head against the wall that is god-damn Throat Cutter, a faint disgust with Billy Bourne's eversocoggie refusal to take the power he has and use it, Alex, the caern she knows, the caern that exists behind her -- is gone now, forgotten in not a red haze of bloodlust but a keen and clear focus.

The biggest, blackest spiral dies under a single swipe of Lukas's claws as he roars, and that roar -- and that death -- sends a shudder through the Unbroken. Even the other packs feel it. Katherine's eyes gleam, a sound coming from her throat that none of the Garou around them would imagine coming from the mouth of a Silver Fang. Sinclair rears back on her hind legs a moment, a vicious (bloodthirsty) howl issuing out of her as her paws slam back to the ground. Maddox's eyes fly open.

Lukas's rage floods through all of them, shared with them, multiplied and given to them, and Sinclair lunges for one of the others, she doesn't even care who, opens her jaws,

and the next thing they know, she's atop the body, bits of his throat dangling from her teeth, tendons, part of his larynx. She drops it back on his face. He's still alive, but ever so barely. His own blood hits his face, but he's unconscious and doesn't notice. Sinclair seethes, growling at the last Spiral who chose to come face the Unbroken.








Brutal Revelation

[oops. delete the init list from the top of that. durr.]

-retelling-

That last Spiral - last of the first wave that chose to face the Unbroken - falters, suddenly alone. Already the drymoat is drenched in blood. There are bodies impaled on the stakes. Corpses of Dancers torn apart and hurled back over the moat. Corpses of their own too: just yards to the left, a single frenzied Dancer had leapt the gap, leapt the wall, landed amongst an unlucky tangle of inexperienced Cliaths. The Dancer's dead now. So are the Cliaths, five or six of them torn nearly to shreds.

The momentum of that initial onslaught is broken. The battle is well and truly on, the front lines of both sides snapping, reaching, slashing, snarling. Noise everywhere - gunshots blasting overhead, kin shouting from behind the front lines. In the middle distance, black smoke is beginning to curl skyward, lit from below in infernal oranges and reds. Fires set by the Dancers, consuming the homes and crops of the Sept village. Snarls of outrage from the Fianna. Billy Bourne, shouting "Stay where you are! Stand your ground! Don't take the bait!" - but abruptly the Fianna line breaks. Brendan, the big Guardian, tested beyond his limits: leaping the wall and the drymoat in a single bound, two younger Ahrouns in his wake. "Goddammit," Billy spits;

the words are barely out of his mouth when a resurgent wave of Dancers is upon the three Fianna. The last they see of them: Brendan, snarling and snapping, ripping a Spiral's arm off as they drag him under.

The Unbroken regroup. A half-dozen Fianna kin run past them, fearlessly jamming fresh stakes into the moatwall. "Cover us!" the leader shouts over his shoulder. "'Ere come the basterds again!"

And he's right. The second wave, appetites whetted by Brendan's sacrificial charge, comes pouring across the flats.

Brutal Revelation

They are all but untouched. They haven't given their true pack name, but they hold fast to it today as in every other battle: they are Unbroken. Sinclair, oracle up til now, makes some of the other Garou realize why she was given 'savage' as part of her name, as well -- covered in blood, made of steel, she very well is. She uses a gift most of them have never seen before to protect her flesh, gleaming as much as any knife against firelight.

They regroup, and happen to regroup in front of kin -- their own in another time, out of reach and out of scent and unable to hear them howling or know that they are being protected, the Unbroken congregate among the kin of other wolves. Cover us, they say, as though it needed to be.

Sinclair tips her head back and lets loose a howl, wild and undulating, not a charge to the Garou but a warning to the Spirals. Come see, it says. Come and see what the Wyrm leads you to. Come see the destruction that awaits you. It's a nihilistic song, a prophecy of doom, the nightmares of their fates they all pretend they don't have, the nightmares they know the truly mad ones live in all the time. Useless, useless, it says. Nothing to fight for. No reason to come here but to die, quick and painful, on the claws and fangs of the Gaians.


[Using the 2 suxx from earlier CotW roll to see if we can up the BSDs' diffs for awhile!]


-retelling-

That howl ripples down the line of defenders, other Galliards taking it up. It's a chilling noise, and not one Lukas has heard often from his packmate. It makes the fur on his back stand up. It makes the Dancers, charging across the ruined Bawn, slow for just an instant.

Then they throw back a howl of their own. Mad and hissing, a song of the abyss. They sing of what they've done to the Caern's lands, the Garou's homes; what they'll do to the kin, how they'll defile the corpses. How they'll defile the Caern, rending the great totem spirit from its seat, violating the sanctity of the Heart, reducing it to ashes and taint. A roar of outrage from the Garou. They think the Dancers are taunting them. The Unbroken, at least, know better. It's not a taunt at all, but a promise.

It's already come to pass. It hasn't happened yet. And they're here to prevent it.

The sky is full of ashes and smoke. Firelight lights the battlefield: the Dancers advancing again, this second wave more cunning than the first rabid charge. They funnel themselves at the weak spots, the sections of wall ready to cave in, the youngest and most inexperienced of defenders. They drag the bodies of their compatriots with them as they come, hurling the corpses into the moat, filling it with their own dead. Trampling the dead as they come, tearing stakes from the earth -- Wyrmbreaker roaring at the kin to fall back, then, get back behind the line, while Throat-Cutter bellows for reinforcements at the weak points, a great surge of Garou to the front lines.

And then the clash. The Dancers at the wall, tearing it down faster than the Gaians can rebuild, or throw them back: a concentrated thrust of an attack rather than an onrushing wave this time. For a second the defenders hold, and then the onslaught breaks through, punching through, trampling defenders, surging into the breach only to be met by Gaians rushing to fill the voice.

Hold the line! Throat-Cutter roars. He's wading into the thick of battle, an enormous, brutish sword swinging like a scythe. A klaive: the sheen of silver deadly and pure. Push them back!

Beside Sinclair, a whuff of warning from Wyrmbreaker: behind the tangled front lines, the Dancers' warmachine is bearing down on them. They're pressed hard as-is. They'll be stretched thinner still when that beast descends.

Brutal Revelation

A promise. A plan. This is no random, angry attack; they prepared for this, have been preparing for this for a long time. They swear by Malfeas to eat this caern alive, violate Water Lynx, kill the Garou, rape the kin. Sinclair knows. Lukas and Maddox and Kate know, too. It is hard not to shudder, having seen it. Having lost Garou over the years to the Hive that this place becomes.

That makes her uneasy. They are standing in the place that becomes the Hive. They are standing in lands that, one day, will open up and swallow people they fought with. People they knew.

Sinclair knows how she fights best: fast and vicious. She stays with her pack, and she moves quick. Lukas, with his greater strength, holds down Dancers so that Sinclair can rip their throats out, so that Kate can eviscerate them with silver. Lukas takes off the head of one. Maddox sends Water to some wounded Kin; sends Earth shaking the ground around the Dancers, if only to shake their footing.

The Dancers break through anyway. Sinclair feels the rush of rage like vomit up her throat, wonders if she'll frenzy, but she bears down on it, thrashing at what is left of one of the Spirals they took down together. Blood drips off of the steel edges of her fur. She pulls back to Wyrmbreaker's side; the Unbroken gather together. So do several other packs. She huffs, seeing the war machine, wondering to her packmates aloud what it is, what it could be. She asks Maddox if he can send a spirit to disrupt its inner workings -- a gremlin maybe, if they're around in this day and age.

-retelling-

The Theurge instantly drops back from the front lines - drops into concentration, summons. Meanwhile the Unbroken, regrouping into a solid fist of rage, punches forward again: plunges into the thick of it, into the breach.

In the heart of battle there's no time for planning, no time to look ahead. There is only action and reaction. A Dancer lunges from the left. Katherine takes its head before it even comes close to her packmates. A trio suddenly from the front, rising up from behind the corpses of their own: and without thinking the Unbroken move as one, driving at the left, flanking, tearing into hamstrings and throats, bearing the enemy down. They're beside Throat-Cutter then, and whatever his faults - and they are so very many - Throat-Cutter is a warrior amongst warriors, drive his weapon through a Spiral even as the Unbroken surround him.

There are so many dead now. The ground is slippery, their footing unsteady: Dancers and Gaians alike. One of them might be Colleen. It's hard to tell. It's hard to see where Senachewine is, and for a moment panic grips at Wyrmbreaker: what if he dies? How will the world alter? - but no; there's no time for that. In battle, there's only time for the here, the now,

the next enemy, every instant a cutting razor between life and death.

They fall upon their next foe. And the next. And they're pushing back, lunging and snapping and physically forcing the Dancers out through the breach they've made. None of them are untouched now. There's red on Kate's white coat. Red on Sinclair's steel fur. The fur at Wyrmbreaker's flank is wet, but he's too dark to show blood. Throat Cutter isn't. Reddish to begin with, his entire side is matted with blood, one arm hanging half-useless. The other swings his sword,

takes the head off a Dancer clambering over his own dead to reach them.

"Press forward!" Throat Cutter bellows. "Force the cursed ones -- "

" -- Rhya, get back!" It's Seamus. Throat Cutter's head snaps around, but the Ragabash is already upon him, grabbing him in both handpaws, bodily throwing his Grand Elder back from the front lines. Throat Cutter stumbles back, trips and falls, and

in the next instant the spot where he stood, where Seamus still stands, turns into a column of flame. It's too fast for the Ragabash to even scream. There's an instant of stillness. Even the Dancers are shocked.

Everyone looks up.

The warmachine is overhead. It is massive, the size of two city buses side by side, a creature rolling forward on treads, dragged forward by piston-legs. Weaver spider, the Unbroken may think, or panzer tank. In this world, one is still a rare sight. The other hasn't been invented yet. Behind them, the kin are crying out in dismay and shock. Someone, a woman, is screaming on and on and on, and someone's trying to comfort her, and someone else raises a rifle and fires a round that bounces right off the monstrosity's underbelly.

It catches its attention, though. The head - eight eyes set into a corroded round shell - swivels about. Mandibles or a gun bay - one or the other - drop open. "Down!" someone shouts, and then the air catches on fire - a streak of liquid flame arcing across the distance, setting trees afire, scorching all moisture from the air. Machinery whirrs; gears turn. The great beast lurches forward another step. Crushes the moat and the wall in a ten-foot diameter.

"Maddox!" Wyrmbreaker roars. "We need that gremlin, now!"

Brutal Revelation

They are reacting. That is their greatest flaw; it took so much time to get Throat Cutter on board, so much effort to get him to believe that his second-in-command was against him, that they had no real time to prepare. It was only right at the end that he seemed willing to allow the others to help defend the caern. Sinclair will deal later with how she feels now, but she wishes him death in battle. She wishes him the death that history already gave him: valiant fighting, but a name ultimately tainted by his arrogance, his isolation, his blindness. If they save the caern he'll be a hero. But truthfully, for the risk he has put this caern and everyone in it at, she wishes him death. She wishes him some kind of punishment because his pride mattered more than the safety of the caern. He deserves to die before he can wreck what might be saved.

Might be saved. She doesn't know, still, as she thrashes through the battle with her packmates, what good this will do. Maybe even a dent will be enough; she doesn't know. She can't know. She can't think of it right now. They fight. Lukas feels a stab of panic that passes; Sinclair doesn't think of it. They've already altered so much. Their own caern may never be raised. They may die here, right now, and she will never be married on a beach, and no one will be left alive to tell Alex what the fuck happened to her. He'll never know she came back here. He'll just know: dead, dead. Gone, like all the rest of them.


Fire rages up, taking Seamus, and Sinclair feels her vision go black and red for a moment as the world goes silent and still a moment around them. The warmachine comes forward, and Sinclair is shaking. The kin begin to cry out, and she -- she roars at Throat Cutter, rage pouring out of her throat at him, wanting to call him all manner of things, she doesn't even care, she wants to kill him, she wants him to die, she wants him to wake up, why should he of all of those that are dying around him be saved, why him, when if he were not such a broken example of a Garou they might have lived, they might have had a better chance, but there are no words, and no song, no clarity. Just savagery, the veritable end of her tether, and the next time rage rises up in her,

she knows she won't be able to stop it.

The kin cry out. They scream. DOWN! Sinclair tackles Maddox, fire overheating the edges of her fur. She rolls off of him a moment later, singed and trying, trying to focus again, shaking way her anger, shaking away anything but what matters most. She clamps down on all the emotions she feels today, and she guards their Theurge while he rises again, raising crinos-formed handpaws to summon a gremlin.

Or two.


-retelling-

There's an inherent paradox to this entire desperate mission. Everything they've done, everything they're doing, everything they're trying to do: it's already happened. The future is their past, and it's all said and done.

A hundred eighty years from now, an August morning is dawning hot. Where the Caern of the Maelstrom stood, the ground is red with blood. The lakewater is stained with it. The heart of the Caern is shattered, all its defenses down -- humans passing by can see the carnage, but the twisted gifts of the Dancers keep them from acting. Convince them they're merely going mad. Convince them to move on with their day, forget what they've seen, repress it until, ten or twenty years down the line, it boils forth again. A gun rampage at their workplace. Abuse and maltreatment of their kids. Or perhaps simply the quiet, unassuming madness of a gun in the mouth, a finger on the trigger.

Corpses, in the end. Like the ones strung on what was once the Wyrmpole, bloody and naked in the morning light.

But it hasn't happened yet. And their kin are still waiting for them. Their families, their loved ones, have not yet heard of the horror. Have not yet fled the city of Chicago, running from that spreading black stain of taint. Sinclair might yet have that wedding on the beach. Lukas might yet have those cubs he's not prepared for, but can't wait to have; those children climbing Perun's oak in his backyard, filling the rooms of his little den.

They might die here tonight. But they're not dead yet, and as Sinclair hits the end of her tether, Lukas throws back his head and howls, raw and savage, the anthem of war.

And in that instant, Maddox's ritual completes. The air splits open. A gremlin - two, three - tumble out of the rift, mangle some poor kin's rifle, launch cackling into the air. Lightning is fast on their heels, joining the wild destructive play; crackles over the monstrosity's metal hide, fuses joints, scars armor. The warmachine reels. The gremlins plunge in, disappear. A second or two go by.

Then a shudder. A clank. A great belch of black smoke. The treads go dead. The warmachine screams its fury, a noise like train whistles, screeching metal. Fire blasts forward in spurts and sputters: it's half-immobilized, pissed off, still dangerous. But they have a chance.

Come on! Lukas shouts into their minds. He leaps forward. His claws rip earth and corpses, shredding metal as he lunges up one leg of the machine. Handpaw over handpaw, he pulls himself up, hanging on as the beast thrashes and stamps. Other Garou are leaping, climbing, swarming the beast --

-- even as the kin call a warning from the trees. That promised attack, finally, from the rear. Their traitorous brother returned for their blood.

Brutal Revelation

Danicka is in Stickney; she packed up and she drove there. It's protected in ways her apartment is not, and it's farther from battle. Lukas was trying to tell her to but she was already packing, she was already going. She feeds her cat, and she tends the oak, the glass spirits, the water. She sings to it, and she plays video games to make the time pass, stroking Kandovany on her lap. She hasn't heard anything yet. And that's strange. So many Garou battles are over in moments. It's been hours.

Alex is on the other side of the country. He's as safe as he ever is when Sinclair leaves him alone. He's frozen in time on the morning when she left him, and he hasn't heard from her yet. That's okay, he probably tells himself, just because he's gotten all Responsible and In Love doesn't mean he's going to turn into some kind of hand-wringing ninny. If she hasn't called it's just because she either can't get to her phone right now or because she's on her way back anyway.


Gremlins zip towards the war machine, giggling and grousing and leaping from machine to machine, warping everything in their path that's even slightly mechanical, delighted at the prospect of the Wyrm's machinations. It's so big and so complicated and so fuck-up-able.

They fuck it right up.

Sinclair barks at Maddox, a cheer, and jumps forward with Lukas, leaping over bodies, tearing up bloodied dirt. The flanking attack comes. Sinclair doesn't turn away from her pack's onslaught, but yips and howls at a nearby pack to go, help them at the rear. The Unbroken -- and a few others -- have got this.


-retelling-

Sinclair doesn't have to tell Throat Cutter twice. The massive Fianna is turning, one arm hanging, one foot dragging. He slogs through the dead, savagely kicking some half-dead Dancer aside on his way across the narrow heart of the Caern. His kin are firing into the woods, firing at the fresh Dancers pouring across the take their flank, they're falling back as the Garou move forward.

Throat Cutter is roaring across the distance: a single name over and over, over and over and over until Lorccán Bloody Smile slides out of the ranks. The Garou stop. The Dancers stop. They face each other for a frozen instant across a mere ten, fifteen feet of space. And Throat Cutter asks the question that must burn in the hearts of every one of the Fianna here:

"Why?"

But there is no grand speech. There is no long-held grudge, no careful and logical explanation of reasons. Bloody Smile only shakes his head.

"There is no why," he says.

And the ranks come together, screaming. There is blood.

Up atop the Wyrm's warmachine, the Gaians are clawing, biting, beating fruitlessly against armor they barely understand until someone - Katherine - shouts for everyone to stop, stop, arretez, maintenant! because they need to get this armor off. And then someone's forcing an axe under an edge, and someone else is prying, and meanwhile another gout of fire sets a half-dozen Garou on fire, screaming beneath them, one of them crushed like an insect under the beast's stamping feet --

and then the armor is coming off with a great creak of metal, crashing down on the ground. Wires inside, tangled as arteries. Wires and pistons and gears, the Weaver already more advanced than anything else of its age; corrupted through by the Wyrm. The Gaians fall upon the machine's innards, rip it out by the handfuls. Sparks fly. Electricity hums and snaps, someone is flung back by sheer voltage, slips, falls off the machine's back,

lands in the spiked pit. There's death everywhere. The machine is dying too, shuddering, steam hissing, alarms sounding, collapsing slowly to the ground as its circuits snap one by one. The legs twitch. A stray arc of electricity from one terminal to another, and then

Sinclair rips that last node out, and it is still.

Across the Caern's heart, the battle is coming to its end. The Gaians are down to a mere fraction of what they began with, but the Wyrm, finally, is flagging. In the west, Dancers see the demise of their warmachine and begin to falter. Begin to inch back. Others throw themselves into the fray with mad, last-stand fervor. The Gaians are rallying, banding together, pushing the enemy back toward the drymoat.

In the east, the fresh onslaught is still pressing forward. Caught in the middle of that chaos are Throat Cutter and Bloody Smile, locked together, gripping fistfuls of one another's fur, claws tearing, teeth snapping. There's no room for finesse. No tactics, no strategy, no virtuosity to this battle: just a brutal, vicious fight to the finish.

The battle rises around them. Senachewine's people sweeping in from the left. Sweeps them under, the Fianna and his once-brother. They're lost in the mire, and are not seen again.

Brutal Revelation

So that is how Bloody-Smiles and Throat-Cutter die this time. Perhaps that is how they died last time. How they were always meant to die, how they will die in all the timelines from all the various points of decision within their lifetimes and the lifetimes before theirs -- and, given the presence of the Unbroken here -- all the lifetimes that are to come. Maybe that is just their fate.

There is such a thing as fate, Sinclair whispers, years from now, so far in her own future she can't even imagine it -- certainly can't imagine the person she's saying it to, or what her relationship to them is. But she will say it one day. There is such a thing as fate, which means there is such a thing as doom. Such a thing as prophecy. It's the same as history.

And they won't understand. By that time, she won't really understand much, either. It's very far away. The edges of it are dark.


One of her hind legs is broken. Maddox is wheezing, a gash in his side. They fight on.


-retelling-

[director's note!

originally i was gonna have Bloody Smile tell Throat Cutter that he was tired of being #2, tired of Throat Cutter not being as hardline, and/or tired of losing to the Wyrm -- but ultimately i decided it was better for him to just take his reasons to the grave. or maybe not even HAVE a reason.]

-retelling-

They fight on.

The tide has turned. Slowly but surely, they're pushing the Wyrm back. Both the Dancers' rallying points are gone now: the machine collapsed, the Ragabash unrecognizable amongst all the bodies. Seventy, eighty Garou warred on this ground, plus half again as many kin. Over a hundred souls fighting and dying, and now -- as the last of the Dancers are driven out of the breaches, driven back and harried across the field -- barely a fifth of that remains.

Some three or four Gaians tear into one of the last few Dancers. And a shot from a kin cracks across the night, takes off the top of the very last Dancer's skull. He falls, suddenly nerveless.

Then there's only the moaning of the dying. The wind in the trees. The sucking of chest wounds. The panting of the survivors. The crackling of fire.

And then Senachewine howls. He is a Galliard, after all, and his howl is pure and melancholy: a dirge in the name of victory, a paean to the dead.

They are victorious. The price was so very steep. Of the Fianna, only three live: Maeve, and two others. Of Senachewine's people, nine. Joseph lives. Billy Bourne lives. Colleen is dead, torn open, eyes staring.

Over half the kin have survived. They have begun the slow, filthy work of sorting through the dead. The Wyrm cannot be buried in the Bawn. The Gaians can only be buried in the Bawn. But one and the other are nearly indistinguishable - trodden by a thousand footsteps through the course of the night, torn to ribbons. One of the kin is utterly inconsolable. She was Seamus's mate, they find out later. She clings to his bloody body and wails until they drag her away.

The sun is nearing the horizon when Senachewine finds the Unbroken. He is pale and tattered; they all are. Their healers are drained dry, and nothing remains of the talens. He sits heavily by them and exhales, looking over the ragged survivors, looking at them with a wan smile.

"Twelve," he says. "That's how many of us are left. Twelve outta forty-three. But that's still victory, an' we wouldn'a done it without you.

"We're gonna need to rebuild. I talked to Maeve. She knows three ain't enough to hold a Caern, an' I know nine ain't enough to start a Sept. So I suppose we'll get our wish after all. We'll move in here, an' see how it goes. One day at a time.

"If you folks wanna stay," he adds, "we sure could use yer claws. This ain't over yet. Not by far."

Brutal Revelation

This is a longer battle than most of these Garou have ever seen. This is a longer battle than most of them will ever face again. Sinclair can barely move. Her rage has been depleted and spiked again so many times she feels like she's going to vomit as soon as she sees the moon. None of her forms feel right. She shifts aimlessly in the aftermath, trying to find a body that can cope with all of this, one that can stomach the exhaustion. She ends up in lupus, licking at her own wounds, licking at Kate's, smelling the burning crops, the blood, the bodies. Victory does not feel like it usually does.

Senachewine begins to howl, and Sinclair -- blood and ash on her tongue -- joins him, a higher harmony, a song from inhuman throats. There will be so many Gatherings to come, but so many of these spirits cannot wait. They sing them away from their bodies, away from this carnage. Go. Go. Don't linger here.


It is almost bitter, that the four of them should live while so, so many of the ones they came to help are dead. There's not a single pack now that has not lost at least one member. There are dead kin among the bodies, too, and one of the Children of Gaia is lost in the woods somewhere, frenzied at the loss of his brother, lost in his own grief, so much of it pressing down on him it seems like it will never stop.

Sinclair wants to help. She wants to help all of them. She has not felt her heart breaking so much for the pains of others since she was a child. And when she was a child, she could not bear to see others hurt without doing something. Right now there's nothing she can do. She can barely move. Her hind leg drags a bit, and she limps, but her gift is wearing off and she has no will to burn on renewing it. There are no more talens, no more gifts of healing. So: oh well. She'll live. It'll heal, fast enough. Lukas has to set it, though, and that... doesn't feel good.

They gather in a heap for awhile, bloodied fur sticking together, just breathing. Alive. Wondering how many hours til they go back, and see what their deeds have wrought.


Billy Bourne comes to find them. Twelve, he says. And he's not counting them, of course -- they are outsiders in every sense of the word. Sinclair chuffs as he says something about how they wouldn't have done it without you, growls like a shrug to get the words away, get them off, like a cobweb after you walk right through it. Maeve has more sense than Bloody Smiles or Throat-Cutter had.

Three's not enough to hold, nine's not enough to build. Sinclair lifts her head and looks at her packmates, uneasy, but -- well. Too tired not to accept it as it is. She gives a slow shake of her head. "No stay. Not able. We will be pulled away."



-retelling-

There's little surprise in the way Billy nods - once or twice, then looking away. "Yeah," he says. "I figgered as much."

Cleanup continues around them. Mostly the kin working now. Many of the Garou are as they are: licking their wounds in some non-human form or other. One or two are helping the kin drag bodies around. Some are digging stakes out of the drymoat; it's been decided that that same pit will now hold the bodies of their dead. Nothing more honorable than burial in the Caern's Heart. Even so, it somehow feels sacrilegious: burying the dead where so many died.

They have no choice. They have no strength to spare.

At length, Billy Bourne speaks again. "Is there... anythin' more you can tell me? 'Bout your prophecies." A pause. "Or anythin' I can tell you?"

Brutal Revelation

Sinclair lays her head back down. If she didn't have Alex and her parents and the Vaughns. If Kate didn't have a family and a company. If Lukas didn't have his family and his mate, his house. If Maddox didn't have them -- they might have different answers. If they had nothing to lose, they might stay. If they had nothing to go back to -- but.

"All dark now," she tells him. "I think it means change. All you could tell us is --"

She stops there. She gives a powerful yawn; she can't help it. But she has stopped, and paused, for another reason: "We came back in time, rhya. Almost two hundred years. It was a fetish that brought us back. If you should come across a fetish that can do such a thing, keep it safe.

"I am not an oracle. The names we have given you are not ours, but they are not lies. We have done what we came to do. We do not know what will come of it. But it has to be better than what drove us here in the first place."

-retelling-

Senachewine looks at Sinclair a moment as she finally gives him the truth of it. He's too tired to be stunned. Or perhaps he's simply from a time and culture that predates science fiction, where the fantastic can still be taken at face value.

He thinks for a moment. And then he nods. "That explains some things," he says. "We'll do our best here. And we'll remember ya in our own way." He looks past them -- Joseph is coming to them, moving slowly, bloody as all the rest.

"Rhyas," he greets them, "can I be askin' one more favor of ya?"

"We'll try," Lukas says. "What's up?"

"If you're headin' toward town," Joseph says, "maybe you can stop by my farm. Tell my wife an' daughter I'm all right. They'll be worryin'."

"And if it ain't too much to ask," Senachewine adds, "maybe you could tell her everythin' else that's happened here. We won't be able to go to town for a week at least. But she can start spreading the word. Tellin' other Garou to come out here, because we'll need every last one of 'em."

So that's what they do. They make their goodbyes, which don't take long. They haven't made many acquaintances in this era, and that's a purposeful choice. Most the people they did know are dead. Joseph and Senachewine are exceptions, and they walk with them to the edge of the Bawn. Maeve too. The Warder is the one that walks with them the farthest, past the borders of the Bawn and into the woods, all the way to where woods begin to give way to plains.

"Thank you," she says as they part, "for protectin' the Caern."

It takes much longer to cover twenty, thirty miles now than it did when they ran out here, hale and whole. The sun is past its peak by the time they see the lakeshore. Dipping low in the west by the time they find Joseph and Maryanne's house. Maryanne greets them at the door and invites them in, but they decline. Their time is short now. They tell her, plainly but accurately, of what happened that night. There are so many dead it's easier to name the living. Maryanne is kin to the Fenrir after all. She's ironfaced, doesn't shed a single tear. Not when she hears how many died. Not when she hears her mate has lived. She thanks them, and memorizes the story dutifully to pass on to the Garou of nascent Chicago.

Gracie waves goodbye as they go. She asks her mother if she'll see the nice people again. They hear Maryanne say no, baby, I don't think so as they go. There's a tremor in her voice at last, but by then the door is closed.

On the shores of the lake they gather, in the spot where their Caern fell. The sun is very close to the horizon now. As red casts across the sky, Sinclair can feel Lukas drawing a deep breath beside her. The last of the sun vanishes. A sudden wind, and they all blink -

the trip forward so much easier than the trip back. When they open their eyes again, the world is different. The moon is in the sky. It is full again, and it is in the same position it was in when they left. The shoreline is clean, though. No bodies. No carnage. No blood.

No Caern, either. No Wyrmpole; no assembly area. None of it. No sign that such things ever existed.

"Let's go home," Lukas says. "In the morning, we can figure out what's happened."

Brutal Revelation

They are not close to these wolves; could not be. Still, Sinclair gives Billy Bourne a rub of her head before they go, and she limps after her pack, flagging for a long while until her non-birth shape does its work and her back leg heals completely. She still drags, tired and aching, rent by claws here and there, terrified of what they will and won't find when they get back to their own time. She worries. God. She's so frightened of how her life will have changed; what she may have lost.

She licks the girl-cub when they tell Maryanne what's happened. Gracie wrinkles her nose, doesn't recognize her, isn't afraid of a wolf. Sinclair doesn't know why she does it. Gracie is a tiny, soft, unchanging thing, protected somehow from everything. She wonders if, in another timeline, Gracie never saw tomorrow's sunrise. She licks the girl-cub. She doesn't understand why. Only this: it is an act of the living. A recognition of something alive, and healthy, and untroubled.


The sun touches the horizon. Lukas inhales,

and time shifts,

and he exhales. Sinclair all but collapses. There are no bodies. No blood. She falls to the ground and holds the earth, shaking, no less frightened than before, no less exhausted, but grateful all the same. Lukas and Kate gnaw her up on her feet again, as they would, and she gives a whine: 'home', for her, is so very far away. And she doesn't know if she has the strength to get there and back. She doesn't want to leave her pack. She doesn't want to call Alex and find that the number doesn't exist, that he doesn't know who she is, she doesn't know -- and a moment later realizes these thoughts have been shared, that the other Unbroken have heard her.

I don't know what to do, she tells them, finally. I don't know where to go.


-retelling-

"Go home to your mate," Lukas answers. "He'll be there. I think we've done enough for Gaia that she owes us that much. If you want to come back afterward, we'll be here."


And he's right. And when Sinclair calls home, Alex picks up, sounding sleepy. He yawns and asks her if she's done in Chicago yet; should he put the phone down and back away. He doesn't seem to remember that she went there for an emergency, a terrible war,

and maybe someday she'll tell him what really happened. But not today.


They go home to their families. They come back. Lukas drives in with Danicka, who probably doesn't really get why he wants her there with the rest of his pack. Alex might very well end up flying in from San Diego. And they find that Kate's Loft still exists, and that there are enough rooms for all of them, and

they just stay close to each other. So much has changed; they need what stability they can find.


They piece the truth together slowly over the coming days, in fragments: from hearsay, from the historians of GW.net, from their own memories unfolding in their minds like ghosts. They rediscover the past, little by little:

In the spring of 1833, the last of the Potawatomi tribe, native to the western shore of Lake Michigan, are forced from their land by the Treaty of Chicago and death-marched to surrounding states. At the same time, a group of Fianna 'Wyrmbringers' defeat the native Uktena of the Sept and Caern of the Mishibizhiw (the Great Water Lynx) and drive them from the Caern. The Garou population becomes almost wholly Fianna in the aftermath; many move on, while two packs stay behind. When the dust settles, there are perhaps 10 or 12 Garou in the area at this point - two packs under Tighearnán Ó Séaghdha, Throat-Cutter, near-Athro Ahroun and new Sept Alpha, and Lorccán Bloody Smiles, Adren Ragabash and his staunch ally - an unpleasant, brutal lot that defends their unfairly won land with extreme territoriality.

As a result, new Garou in the area - mostly Fianna, Fenrir, Iron Riders and Shadow Lords - are reluctant to venture out to the Caern, leaving it underdefended. The non-Sept Garou begin setting about forging their own Sept. They begin to rally around Senachewine ("Difficult Current"), aka Billy Bourne, a young Potawatomi-American who pledged to the Children of Gaia instead of his ancestral Uktena, and who successfully evaded the eviction by passing as white.

On August 12th, 1833, the Town of Chicago is officially incorporated. Population: 200

Around the same time, smelling weakness, Black Spiral Dancers descend on the Caern of the Great Lynx. Senachewine and his followers - along with a mysterious pack of Garou that are never mentioned again in any of the histories - ally with the Fianna and drive back the Wyrm at terrible cost. The Wyrm influence over the area is broken, and the Gaians gain the chance to build anew.

In the wake of the Battle of the Water Lynx Caern, Senachewine - a consummate compromiser who abhorred confrontation - cedes Eldership of the Caern to Maeve Red Sky Dawning, who was previously Warder of the Caern. Although Maeve proves a capable and wise Elder, Water Lynx remains angered over the displacement of his people and departed the Caern soon thereafter. An emergency Caern binding ritual by the Sept Theurges manages to preserve the Caern, albeit under a different totem [TBA!].

As time passes, both Caern and city grow. Within ten years, the Town of Chicago expands to a population of thousands. With the population boom comes new Garou, most of whom add to the population of the Sept. The population at the Sept remains mixed. As peace is struck between the Native American Garou and their European counterparts, the Uktena begin to return to the area, while new immigrants - mostly Fianna and Shadow Lords following their kin west - join the Sept with little trouble.

When the railroad comes to Chicago, firmly establishing it as the preeminent city in the Midwest, large populations of Iron Riders, Bone Gnawers and Silver Fangs pour into the area, along with smaller representations of other tribes. The remoteness of the existing Caern and the rising importance of Chicago prompts calls for a second Sept to be established within city limits.

By the turn of the century, a second Sept rises in the city of Chicago [existence of Caern or not TBA!], and the Garou population of the Chicagoland area begins to gravitate toward one or the other. When the Depression hits a few decades later, stagnation and urban rot begins to reestablish a foothold for the Wyrm in the southside slums.

In the present day, Chicago's Garou population is split between the Caern in the Ned Brown Forest Preserve and the city proper. The Caern boasts the lion's share of the Garou - well over forty at last count. Fianna and Uktena maintain a strong presence, though Wendigo and Fenrir, along with fair numbers of the Children of Gaia, can also be found there. Meanwhile, the urban Sept - significantly smaller - reflects the makeup of the city: heavily Glass Walker, Bone Gnawer and Shadow Lord. [Status of Silver Fangs will depend on presence of Caern or not!]

A little detective work eventually turns up their once-Septmates. As far as they can tell, no one was simply wiped from history. Balance Without Fault is the Grand Elder of the Detroit Caern, with Evens the Odds his Warder. Bleeding Heart is in Seattle. There are others, too, names and faces from their previous life scattered around the nation: some in New York, some in DC, some in Los Angeles, some out in the middle of nowhere in Montana, Wyoming, the Dakotas.

As for their own lives: although the lack of Maelstrom carves a significant hole in their memories, they find most the events of their past occurred in one form or another. The changes are many, but subtle. In the end, they are who they are, and all the people and places and events that made them who they are have, through some magic of the spheres, been preserved.




-retelling-

And! One last director's notes:

- I think if the PCs had pushed harder for Senachewine to assume Eldership, he would've. The Caern would've been more heavily Uktena dominated in that case and, ironically, less tolerant. But they would've managed to keep Water Lynx.

- If that had happened, there would definitely be a Chicago Caern. Right now, we'll see what players want.

- Throat Cutter actually could have been saved in the final battle. If he had been, he would've maintained eldership, and the Caern would've been Fianna-dominated and less tolerant. They would have also lost their totem.

- If TC was preserved AND Senachewine was convinced to challenge, there would've been a bloody civil war in the Sept, leading to either of the single-tribe-domination scenarios.

- If the chars had, at an earlier point, chosen to face the Wyrm alone, they would've probably succeeded, but the Caern would have remained Fianna-only and probably wasted away. In that case, the Chicago Caern would have risen and grown very strong.

- If the chars had let the Wyrm crush the Fianna and THEN moved in (a Machiavellian but effective strategy!), they would have ended up with an Uktena-dominated caern, and probably a lot of political machinations thereafter.

- And of course, if the chars had actually FAILED, Chicago would've ended up Caernless, beHived up the ass, and horrific. Probably still playable, but. Horrific.

Friday, August 19, 2011

preparations.

-retelling-

For the Garou, combat is decided in seconds. Seconds ago, there were seven Dancers in this clearing. Six were alive. There was one Gaian, and he was nearly dead.

Seconds later, there are no Dancers in this clearing. There are six dead ones, the last living one fleeing as fast as his legs will carry him. There are five Gaians, all wounded, one of whom still lives only because the others came in time.

Seamus is sitting on the ground. He hasn't budged from where he was when Maddox healed him. He's still clutching his throat, blood still seeping between his fingers, but that terrible gash is half-mended already. His eyes are bugging, and as soon as he can speak he rasps, "Fookin' basterd traitor! Led me right inta ambush an' jus' left me!"

Brutal Revelation

Sinclair is bleeding from a couple of wounds, but they are not deep, and she doesn't notice them yet anyway. She doesn't even stop; she lunges after the fleeing Dancer, her paws kicking up dirt, lunging onto him and locking her jaws on his neck if she can.

Brutal Revelation

[Continuing!]

Of course she can. This is Warcry, Brutal Revelation, one of the hardest hitters in the Unbroken even when she was a Cliath and despite being a Galliard. She's always been known for her speed and her tenacity (among other things), and when the Galliards of this time recall the actions of one 'Savage Oracle', they'll know her for the same. Her paws slam into the Dancer's back and she barrels him to the dirt, her teeth already closing on his neck, pinning and holding him. He struggles and she snarls in response, digging her teeth in enough to cut, enough to warn him.

Loyalty, wickedness, madness -- even things things can be overcome by one's instinct to self preservation. He goes still and she clamps a bit harder, just to discourage him from pushing again, and then Sinclair begins to drag him back. By the neck, like he's nothing more than a pup to be carried from one place to another in her jaws.

Sidewalk's End

Maddox remains in Crinos, rust-colored fur stained with his own blood. He assesses the wounds of his packmates first and quickly, instinctively. The Unbroken's Theurge wasn't brought on as a healer, exactly. They all have their own collections of talens that they can use however they need. He takes them in with a glance, then looks down at Seamus, sitting on the ground.

Curling his clawed fingers, he rests his handpaws on furry hips. "Such is the nature of traitors."

Sinclair is off like a shot after the last Dancer trying to make his escape. There's no doubt that she'll catch him, she operates at ludicrous speed.

"Should I send for Difficult Current and Throat-Cutter?" he asks. "If he went back to the caern, there is no knowing what Bloody Smiles has told them."

Brutal Revelation

Sinclair dumps the Dancer in front of Lukas, flanking him to keep him from running. She's not sure what she wants to do with him, what they should do with him. He's dead meat regardless; he knows it. She doubts Billy Bourne's camp is comfortable with torture; maybe one of the Fenrir. Probably not Joseph. He has cubs. This is how her mind words; this is who her mind excuses.

"We should get back there," she says. "As you say: there is no knowing. We will go to them, and if worse comes to worse, we have numbers on our side."

-retelling-

"I'll carry the Dancer," Lukas says. "Sinclair, stay behind me and keep an eye on him. In case he decides to cut my throat or his own. Let's move."

The camp isn't far. They take the distance at a pace just short of punishing - a long-striding trot through the woods, their eyes and ears alert. Long before they cross the bawn's edge, they see Maeve barring their path, rippling up into Glabro as they approach. The big Guardian, Brendan, flanks her closely. Just behind that front line is Throat-Cutter, fists clenched. Behind him, what must be the entirety of the Fianna Caern - a dozen or so Garou. What they lack in numbers they make up in strength and rank. Whereas Billy Bourne's number are largely Cliaths with a few Fosterns sprinkled in, these Garou are nearly all Adrens with, again, a few Fosterns.

Billy Bourne stands alone amongst them. He is drawn, taut as a bowstring. The air is thick with misgivings and tension. Some of the Fianna are openly baring their teeth. A group of them, in fact, standing close enough to be a pack.

And all of them, every last one of the Garou gathered there, are looking toward the Unbroken and their allies.

"Seamus," Maeve calls. "'Tis good ye're back. Billy Bourne 'ere gave us some story o' Bloody Smiles turnin' coat." The angriest of the Garou snarl at the very mention. "Mayhap ye'd like ta shed light on the matter."

Seamus draws a breath to speak. Then his eyes slide to the angry cadre; to the Unbroken; back to Maeve. He licks his lips.

"Is he here? Is Bloody Smile-rhya here?"

Brutal Revelation

Duhhh, Sinclair says to Lukas -- and the rest of the pack, for that matter -- when he says he'll carry the Dancer. As good a fighter as she is, no one in the pack is as strong as Lukas. In their own time, when surviving to Athro is a real accomplishment and there are few Elders left, there are few even in other carns that are stronger than Lukas. She's pretty sure the Warder could take him. The Warder who, as far as her memories are concerned, is dead now. She slips behind her Alpha and follows close by.

When they reach the edge of the bawn and another Warder -- one who is alive now but dead long before their own is born -- rises up to meet them, they slow to a stop. Sinclair draws up alongside Lukas, her eyes on the Dancer, as Maeve addresses Seamus. She's tense. There's a Dancer on her Alpha's back. There's a traitor in their midst and his sept doesn't believe he's in the wrong. Snarls go through the Fianna at the mention of Bloody Smiles being a traitor.

Sinclair thinks of the punishments leveled on such traitors. The ones that betray their own caerns. If any deserve it, he does. Even if they manage to stop this place from being turned into a Hive.

Seamus is worried. Lip-licking, asking if the Ragabash is among them. Sinclair gives a low snarl, but it isn't threatening. "My pack has bled to keep you alive once. If he is here, we will do so again for the sake of this caern. Speak the truth."

Sidewalk's End

Maddox does his best to stay with the group. He doesn't lag behind this time, not without pushing himself as hard as his thin frame can be pushed. Only when he sees that line of angry faces does his gait change to something slightly less ground eating, just so he can come to a stop without panting heavily, tongue lolling and frothy.

It helps, a little, so that when Seamus asks after Bloody Smile instead, Maddox is able to snap his head in that direction, ears starting to cock back.

"If he was," he adds after Sinclair, moving to stand beside the other Fiann and nodding toward Billy, "do you think he would be allowed to be here?"

-retelling-

Seamus glances sidelong at Sinclair. Hard to say if he draws courage or terror from her. He takes a breath, but before he can speak one of the Fianna shouts from across the bawnsedge.

"Seamus is one o' ours amongst four o' theirs, an' he comes back bloodied an' bruised. How are we ta know he isna bein' made to speak their side? How are we ta know they arena makin' him speak against our Alpha?"

"Well, heck, I'm one amongst many too," Billy counters. "I've spoken the truth, unpopular as it may be, without fearin' for my life. Surely yer own brave Guardian can do the same."

"Speak, Seamus," Throat-Cutter growls. "Know that your Philodox Septmates are attendin' ta every word."

Seamus glances again at Sinclair. At Maddox. And then he turns to his Sept and takes a breath.

"Bloody Smile-rhya betrayed me," he says. There's an immediate uproar; Bloody Smile's packmates roaring curse, redfaced with rage. Seamus lifts his voice over theirs, shouts right back at them: "He led me straight into ambush. I smelled the Dancers an' asked him if we weren't movin' too close, an' he tol' me no' ta worry. Then we were set upon by seven o' them. An' Bloody Smile-rhya -- no, Bloody-Smile-ikthya -- abandoned me. He looked me right in the eye. It werena some clever plan; it werena even cowardice. Right an' deliberate, Bloody-Smile left me ta die."

Everyone's shouting now. Bloody Smile's packmates, the other Fianna; Colleen, even Billy. It's a pandemonium of noise, no one managing to be heard, until Throat-Cutter sucks in a breath and proves that nine-tenths of leadership comes down to volume:

"BE... SILENT!"

And there is silence. Throat-Cutter looks to the Philodoxes. They look back. They nod, and Throat-Cutter grimaces, teeth clenching, fists clenching, a vein beating in his forehead.

"Oh, that basterd," he murmurs. "Oh, that lyin', deceivin' basterd."

Brutal Revelation

Sinclair works very hard to conceal the surge of triumph she feels when Seamus refers to Bloody Smiles as ikthya. She breathes. She breathes when the sept erupts into shouting and snarls, roars of the High Tongue, the flickering of rage like a fire being stoked to the height of an inferno. She breathes when Throat Cutter slams all the voices down with the full weight of his rank -- and the betrayal he has suffered, too -- behind it. The noise snaps off. The Philodoxes confirm what so many reacted to before they even knew if it was true or not. Rage pulses off of Throat Cutter in a dizzying aura.

She stops breathing and steps forward. "Rhya, you know him -- what do you think he will do now?"

-retelling-

Throat-Cutter exhales in a bitter, humorless laugh.

"Play the scout," he says. "Give information to his new masters. Tell them everythin' he knows about us. Tell them exactly where we are weak. Give them everything they might need to crush us utterly."

A beat. And then the fire comes back into Throat-Cutter's eyes - a half-mad, furious glare. "Or so he thinks!" he snarls. "But damned if I'll let him conquer me like some green pup fresh off his Rite. I am Throat-Cutter, damn it, and this Caern is mine!"

Brutal Revelation

It's the half that's madness in his eyes that makes Sinclair wary. She leans back against her packmates -- mentally, at least. She thinks of reminding Throat-Cutter that this caern is Gaia's, but this is a different time. You win a caern through battle, fine. It's yours. They don't realize just how many caerns will be overrun, killed, drained, destroyed, in the coming centuries. So she bites that back and reaches in another direction:

"We brought back one of the Dancers," is all she says, drawing attention to the burden Lukas carries. "Still alive.

"Mostly."

Sidewalk's End

Like Sinclair, Maddox, too, could offer reminders. That the Ahroun is not alone, that there's Billy Bourne and his group. Water Lynx has more potential allies than it did just yesterday. There's more strength to tap.

He doesn't mention it. He's not that crazy.

Instead he waits to see what Throat-Cutter will do with the Spiral and his knowledge of the enemy.

-retelling-

Unceremoniously, Lukas dumps the Spiral at Throat-Cutter's feet. The Dancer is a bloody wreck, groggy, half-conscious at best. He moves weakly. His eyes roll in his head. He looks at the Gaians, and then

he spits in the Sept Alpha's direction.

Throat-Cutter nearly frenzies. "What are ye waitin' for?" he roars. "Kill the wretched thing. And to hell with the rest of its kind as well!"

"Perhaps," Maeve interjects, "we ought ta question it first. Find out what we can about the Cursed Ones' plans."

"I'll be happy ta do the askin'," Seamus says. "Just say the word, Throat-Cutter-rhya."

"Fine," Throat-Cutter snaps. "Get what ye can out o' it. Then tear its bloody throat out. I'm goin' ta prepare for war."

Brutal Revelation

The thump that the Spiral lands with is sort of wet and shifting, his body just this side of dead weight. Sinclair wonders how they ever worried that it might turn on Lukas, but then -- Spirals lie. Some of them can lie quite well. He spits, just as weak as everything else, but the gesture doesn't need strength behind it. Throat Cutter, losing his right-hand man, losing a wolf he thought was his friend and brother, all but tears his head off. And Sinclair wouldn't blame him. Right now, she'd almost be grateful for Throat Cutter to have a distraction, something to vent on. Better a Dancer than any of them.

Maeve stops him. This time, without Bloody Smiles anywhere near, Throat Cutter listens. Sinclair looks over to Maddox briefly, thoughtfully, then turns back to paying mind to the Fianna. Throat-Cutter tells them all he's going to war, and Sinclair doesn't speak to him.

Instead, she sidles on over to Billy Bourne and bumps against him, wordless.

-retelling-

Bumped, Billy Bourne looks at Sinclair. There's a faint half-smile on his mouth. He inclines his head; says quietly: "Walk with me, will ya?"

Colleen stays behind. Lukas as well, after a glance to his packmates. Their small party separates; Billy leads Maddox and Sinclair away from the bawnsedge, away from Fianna territory.

"They'll need our help now," Billy says, "but Throat-Cutter'd sooner die than admit it. Hell, he probably wouldn't even accept help if we make it sound like we're helpin' him out. Way I see it, only way Throat-Cutter'll let us join the fight is if we make it out like they'd be doin' us the favor. Tell 'im you folks want vengeance for whatever cataclysm it was that drove ya here like heralds'a the Apocalypse. Tell 'im I want vengeance for ... hell, for what Bloody Smile did to my momma's folks, I s'ppose.

"Chances are he won't wanna give us a voice in the Caern either, at least not up front. He'll drive a painful bargain, but that's all right with me. Right now, we just need ta get in the fight, shoulder ta shoulder with the Fianna, for the sake'a the Caern. Afterward, when the dust's settled, we can go back to negotiatin'. An' I'm willin' ta bet a show'a good faith an' hard knuckles'll do wonders for Throat-Cutter's opinion of us.

"Anyhow. I ain't talkin' jus' ta hear myself talk. Here's the thing. When they're done draggin' the truth outta that poor Dancer, we'll have another parley. You've all done wonders gettin' my foot through the door, but let me do the talkin' now. What I need you guys to do for me is to take what information they can dredge up, combine it with what the spirits or the scouts can figger out, and come up with a plan of attack for us all. We let Throat-Cutter do it, and his plan'll be run in with axes, kill people. I can't overrule him, he's my elder. But you got Adrens in your midst. If you come up with a good idea, he'll fall in."

Brutal Revelation

Sinclair gives a sharp nod to Billy Bourne, a swift wag of her tail. She's been in lupus most of this time, baring her tattoos and her scars and her piercings and her bizarre underwear only occasionally in front of the wolves of the past. It hasn't been enough of an object of interest to be discussed, and for that she's grateful.

A painful bargain, Billy forsees, and Sinclair hesitates, thinking of her own past, this land's future, wondering what changes they've already wrought. She exhales a huff of air. Good faith in battle does as much good with Fianna as good faith according to law and good faith in hospitality, she knows that much. So she nods again, and goes to prepare.

-retelling-

[Okay, on the NPC end:

- Colleen will go scout out the Wyrm camp. Seamus will accompany her, with more interest in figuring out where Bloody Smile went.

- The rest of the Fianna and Billy Bourne's people will prepare for combat. Their "default" action (i.e., unless you guys want to convince them to do otherwise) will be to beef up the Caern's physical defenses - digging spiked moats, etc. Because of their few numbers, they'll make their stand immediately around the Caern's Heart, well within the Bawn.

- There are kin who can fight, who may aid if asked.

- Billy Bourne's people will express their concern that the Caern totem may still be upset at the usurping.]

Sidewalk's End

[WHAT'CHU LOOKIN' AT, WILLIS (Sinclair): empatchee]

Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (1, 1, 2, 3, 9, 10) ( fail )

Brutal Revelation

[Sinclair's going to relay info to the rest of the pack, then talk to Throat Cutter about strategy.]

Sidewalk's End

[Maddox would ask to be allowed to see the Caern totem, with local Theurges if need be]

-retelling-

[Sinclair - I'll make some rolls for the NPC scouts, give info, and then you can take that into account re: strategy!

Maddox - will be grudgingly allowed to see the Caern totem, accompanied by a surly Cliath theurge]

Brutal Revelation

[lulz. 'surly'.]

-retelling-

[Colleen, scouting!]

Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (1, 4, 6, 7, 9, 10, 10) ( success x 4 )

-retelling-

[Colleen, staying hidden!]

Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (2, 2, 2, 5, 8, 9, 9) ( success x 3 )

-retelling-

[Collective wyrmlings: Do we see her?]

Dice: 8 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 4, 4, 5, 6, 10, 10) ( success x 2 )

-retelling-

[Seamus, tracking Bloody!]

Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (7, 8, 10, 10, 10, 10) ( success x 6 )

-retelling-

[hot damn, that's one fianna out for revenge.]

-retelling-

[Results of scouting:

- Wyrm forces number around 30; mostly Fosterns with some Adrens and Cliaths. With the combined forces of the Unbroken, the Fianna and Bourne's crew, the two sides are about equal in strength

- Wyrm also has some sort of Awakened and/or possessed "steam-powered engine o' doom" at their disposal, though. Strength is unknown, but presumably great. Every so often they feed it something alive.

- The Wyrm's forces are mostly in the physical plane. Apart from the typical tagalong banes, there aren't any significant threats Umbraside.

- From what Colleen was able to overhear, the Wyrm forces will attempt a two-prong physical attack: the main force will attack from the west, and the engine-o-doom, plus a small contingent, will flank and launch a surprise attack after the Gaians are already engaged on the western front.

- She gets away cleanly, though she has a close call with a Wyrm sentry that almost catches her.

- Seamus tracks Bloody Smile into the Wyrm camp. There's no question that he's in league with the enemy. There are hints that he will be part of the flanking attackers.]

Sidewalk's End

[Meanwhile, at the Caern: Maddox would figuratively sidle up to Water Lynx, put his arm around him/her, and go "'sup?" He'd assess the situation and try to locate the cause of the totem's instability if possible]

-retelling-

[is he going for a chummy approach?]

Brutal Revelation

[Meanwhile, back at the ranch, Sinclair takes Lukas by the lapels and yells "DAMMIT JIM! I'M A FOSTERN GALLIARD, NOT AN ADREN AHROUN."]

-retelling-

[Lukas thinks they should utilize the kin. Not on the front lines, obviously, but arm them with projectiles and firearms and let 'em go to town. Normally he'd be hesitant to endanger the kin, but a Caern is under attack and it's time to pull all stops. Also, having their kin directly behind them could motivate the Fianna to fight harder and not retreat.

He thinks just because the Wyrm has no spiritual big guns doesn't mean they shouldn't try to bring some of their own in. Even something so simple as awakening the earth and getting it to chomp on the wyrmies could help.]

Sidewalk's End

[Well it's a sept totem, and he's still a cliath. He'd approach more like a student would approach that just irrationally flunked everyone in the class. Respectful and concerned.]

-retelling-

[roll char + etiquette vs diff 6. if you have no etiquette, roll expression at diff 7!]

Sidewalk's End

[char + expression, diff 7 (Air of Confidence: I'm a Theurge, I totally know what I'm doing even if my player does not)]

Dice: 5 d10 TN7 (1, 2, 4, 5, 9, 10, 10, 10) ( success x 3 ) Re-rolls: 3

-retelling-

[Water Lynx is neutral. He's not friendly, but he's not outright pissed off either. He recognizes Maddox as Fianna, but not as one of the Fianna of this Caern. He wants to know what Maddox's stake here is.]

Sidewalk's End

[Maddox would explain the Unbroken's purpose in the past to help hold this caern against corruption from the Spirals waiting outside as the immediate concern. And since these Fianna don't seem willing to give up what they've taken, what can be done to keep lynx happy in the long-term.]

-retelling-

[Water Lynx is seething as soon as Maddox says the Fianna aren't willing to give up what they've taken. He demands that his rightful children be returned to the Caern, and the Caern to them.]

Sidewalk's End

[Addendum!: his personal stake is that events here could affect the outcome of events in the future, his present]

-retelling-

[Water Lynx has no real concept of time. Surly Cliath, however, is casting Maddox an askance look at the talk of present and future.

Surly Cliath also bristles when Water Lynx demands that the Caern be returned to the Fianna, but he has the good sense to STFU right now.]

Sidewalk's End

[Maddox would look sidelong at the surly Fianna Theurge and ask if lynx's desire for his rightful people being returned the caern was brought up with Throat Cutter in light of the negotiations with Billy Bourne's peeps.]

Sidewalk's End

[Note: Maddox is pretty much insta-relaying everything he finds out to Sinclair and everyone]

-retelling-

[Surly Cliath snorts and says something along the lines of, We won this land and we have every right to keep it. Water Lynx will come around sooner or later. Maybe when we save him from certain doom at the hands of the Wyrm.]

-retelling-

[...and Water Lynx seethes more. Like, A LOT.]

Sidewalk's End

[Maddox refrains from asking the Theurge if he's fucking mental. What he does say is something along the lines of a placating, "be that as it may," he reminds him that, there being a Spiral force on their borders right now, they don't have time for "or later." Fighting to protect the caern with lynx in his current state of agitation would be the equivalent of a soldier riding into battle alongside the best mate he just cuckholded.]

Sidewalk's End

[correction: cuckolded!

-retelling-

[Surly Cliath, snitty: So what do you suggest?

Meanwhile, Water Lynx is hissing and spitting. It's becoming quite clear that his patience is running out.]

Sidewalk's End

[Maddox: What I would suggest is that you don't cuckold your best mate.

Reminding Surly Fiann #18 that Throat Cutter-rhya and Difficult Current-rhya will resume their negotiations after the Spiral threat's been dealt with, he'll suggest they get themselves a Theurge to speak on Lynx's behalf in these negotiations so that the totem's desires are heard and taken into consideration.

Returning to the totem, Maddox will tell him about Billy Bourne and what he knows of the Galliard's hopes for peace or a truce or whatever between his group and the Fianna. It might take time for the Uktena to have a presence here again, but none of them will know for certain until the Spirals are dealt with. He respectfully asks for the totem's patience.]

-retelling-

[Water Lynx will demand that Surly Cliath leaves. After he does, Water Lynx demands that Billy Bourne become Sept Alpha. If this condition is not met, Water Lynx will not aid in the coming battle. His words are: Why should I care if those who spilt the blood of my children see their own blood spilt?]

-retelling-

[I didn't actually have this stuff up my sleeve. Like Bloody Smile's betrayal, this sort of grew out of the direction that Sinclair and Maddox were going in!]

Sidewalk's End

[Maddox will say that, as he's not part of this sept, he can't speak for its new people, but he'll take Lynx's demand to them.]

-retelling-

["Then I have nothing more to say to you."

Annnnd that's where we pause for tonight!

-retelling-

[okay - let's quickly IC-dialogue-ify between sinclair and TC! Scene is set with TC in the bawn, overseeing Fianna preparations, which thus far consist of a spiked moat around the heart of the caern and lots of pointy-slashy weapons.]

"What do ye want?"

Brutal Revelation

For this conversation, Sinclair shifts. It's chilly now, and she borrows something from someone to generally cover up, but her arms are still mostly bared from the elbow down, tattoos showing, piercings in her ears glinting.

"To protect the caern from violation, as always," she says.

-retelling-

"An' yet, not like always, ye're here pesterin' me. Speak plainly an' speak fast. Can ye no' see I've a battle to prepare for?"

Brutal Revelation

Speak plainly, he says, and finds out just how plainly the high-falutin' oracle galliard can talk. Bluntly, rapidly, and perhaps with dirt sketches, she lays out suggestions for Throat-Cutter's preparations. Such as:

Putting the kin who can fight behind the Fianna. One more motivator to refuse to fall back, and aid if needed. Kin that can hold a rifle steady while straddling a tree branch should be doing so, though she might have to explain to him what she means by 'sniping'.

Mixed forces. This pack of Fianna next to several of Bourne's followers, some of Bourne's followers fighting alongside the Unbroken, the wanderers they brought fighting with the Fianna, and so on. Packs together; otherwise, blended ranks.

Get the Uktena theurges, if they have any, working on Water Lynx to protect the Garou and their kin at the caern's heart. Others should be present as well -- Water Lynx may be demanding that the Fianna GTFO and the Uktena come back (she leaves out the part where Lynx wants Bourne to be made Grand Elder), but Sinclair insists that Water Lynx cannot survive as a one-tribe caern spirit being constantly battled over. But get the Uktena in there so they have some spiritual backup from the Caern if possible, even if only for the sake of the Kin.

Get any other able theurges calling on rock, root, and earth spirits that can harm their enemies, water spirits for healing, and if Earth would be so kind as to swallow that doom engine right quick, well they'd be much obliged, yessir.

Battle theurges and a few heavy hitters across the gauntlet to deal with the banes they know are coming, then they need to zip back ot the physical plane to join their brethren against the spirals.

Finally, she tells Throat Cutter that with the suspicion that Bloody Smiles is coming to flank them, he should fight on that front and wait for him. He is Throat Cutter's to deal with on the battlefield. She watches him as she says this: it is not just so that he has the satisfaction. It is his duty, if he wants to be Grand Elder. His responsibility, to kill the traitor he trusted for so long.

-retelling-

"Ye've got a spine, doon'tcha? I've half a mind ta rip it out for ye. Half a mind ta keep ye on as m' war counselor, too. Comin' on my land an' tellin' me how ta run my battle. Tellin' me how ta wreak my vengeance, besides. Girl, ye don't teach a Fiann about honor, duty an' vengeance. 'Tis mother's milk ta us. Ye understan'?

"Now, as fer your suggestions. There's wisdom in some o' them, an' I'll see that they are carried through. In others? Pure madness. I am no' allowin' bloody backbitin' Uktena anywhere near the totem. Bloody redskins, an' these the worst o' the worst. Ye canna take yer eye off them or they'll find a way ta fook ye. You know 'ow it is.

"If they want ta fight, they can fight on their own, far from the Caern's heart. An' that reminds me. This business about blended ranks is folly. We fight best as packs, where we can predict one another's breaths. An' that is how we'll stay."

-retelling-

[*coughs* ignore everything after "an' that reminds me."!!!]

Brutal Revelation

You've got a spine, doon'tcha? Throat Cutter says, and Sinclair's eyebrows flick. "And then some." Of course he's threatening to rip it out and then giving her one of his cute little lectures, and Sinclair just sits through it. Truth be told, she's bored of it. She's sick of it. He's so much fucking talk, and he let a traitor nearly rape the caern he 'won', that's 'his'. She waits for him to finish, and he bitches about the Uktena. So she shrugs.

"Water Lynx is not on the side of the Fianna, Throat Cutter-rhya, that is the plain and honest truth and it will have consquences if you ignore it. And to tell you the truth, I have no stake whatsoever in who runs this caern. I don't care what tribe calls it home. What I do care about is seeing it turned into a hive because of inter-tribal rivalries and other horseshit. Take what you will, toss what you don't like. You're the Grand Elder of this caern. It's fate is in your hands and on your head."

-retelling-

A long, deliberative pause.

"Is Senachewine tryin' ta weasel in on this Caern? Tell me tha', with your oracular eye."

Brutal Revelation

She was about to walk away. Waited a moment to make sure he wouldn't go ahead and shove her or attack her again, then started to turn. She stops when he speaks, and looks back at him.

She huffs a breath out, shaking her head. "Senachewine-rhya has forgiven the Fianna. He, like me, could not care less who holds the caern so long as it does not fall. He wishes to protect it. When others in his group rant and rave about vengeance or leaving you to die or this or that, he quells those voices with more strength than you or I have in our arms. He is a good leader, Throat Cutter-rhya. Those that follow him don't have to be beaten back into line. But does he intend or even want to 'take back' this caern?" She shakes her head again, more deliberately. "As far as I can see into what will be and what may be, I do not see that."

Sinclair pauses. "As for that 'oracular eye', I will tell you this: another caern may indeed rise, -rhya, with Difficult Current-rhya as their Elder, if you persist in holding this caern to only Fianna, and only the Fianna you deem worthy. These things are already changing and I cannot tell you what will be with clear vision. I do not know who will live through the day. This caern may yet fall. But I will die before I see it happen today. As will you. As will we all."

Thursday, August 18, 2011

treachery.

-retelling-

They have an escort on the way out - surly, silent wolves and wolfmen tailing them to the edge of the bawn. At the very borders they stop, watching their 'guests' depart. They don't turn back until Senachewine's people are utterly out of sight.

And when they are out of sight, Billy Bourne slows until he comes alongside of the Unbroken. In a low voice he asks, "So, what didja think?"

Brutal Revelation

Sinclair flicks a glance at Maddox, then back to Billy Bourne. "I think we should worry about Seamus out there with Bloody Smiles," she says. "He undermined the Warder right in front of the Grand Elder, and he seemed a little rabid about keeping anyone from even investigating the possibility of Spirals nearing their lands. I don't trust him."

Sidewalk's End

"That thing 'e said," Maddox adds, "'bout bein' able to smell the Spirals. It's true. A Ragabash of his rank, 'specially one in a caern that bloody paranoid about outsiders, would've."

-retelling-

"And yet he didn't," Billy replies, frowning. Then, slower, "Or... he said he didn't."

Brutal Revelation

Sinclair looks at Billy and raises both her eyebrows high on her forehead, staring at him a second. The look is expressive as that mouth she has: YUP. WHATCHA THINK THAT MEANS. She shakes her head. "We're off of their land. We should follow them if we can. It's no use casting doubt on him without proof."

Sidewalk's End

The corner of Maddox's mouth quirks, his expression wry. He nods once, shrugs his shoulders. "And as much as I'd love to see that Seamus knocked around a bit, being a smarmy arsehole doesn't mean he deserves to die. Otherwise the Fianna'd've all died out before they even started." He turns to his packmates. "We're going after them, too, I take it?"

-retelling-

"Now hold on a second." Joseph jogs up beside them. "If I'm hearin' correct, y'all think Bloody Smile's been turned, and he might move on his own packmate. That right? And now you're sayin' maybe we oughta follow 'em and, what, try to save one Fiann from the other?

"Now what if - just what if - he kills the poor bugger and then pins it on us? That'll be war."

Brutal Revelation

Sinclair is somewhere between the hardline Fianna and the more democratic group she finds herself in. She snaps her head around to look at Joseph. For a moment she just stares at him expectantly, a look he probably knows from his own mate. Then, a few seconds later: "Oh, see I thought since you spoke up you might have some better ideas." She looks from him to Billy, Billy to the rest of the group. "Anyone? You're all Garou. Wise Philodoxes and Theurges, strong Ahrouns, Galliards with minds full of ideas, crafty Ragabashes. The war is coming whether Throat-Cutter believes it or not, and whether Bloody Smiles will speak truth or not. So either come up with a better plan, or: those of you that are willing, get in line to come watch Bloody Smiles and, if we need to, save Seamus's life. And -- if we can -- bring proof to Throat Cutter.

"Of course there's always the chance that we're wrong, and if so, I want proof that's just as definitive of Bloody Smiles's innocence."

Sidewalk's End

At move on his own packmate Maddox's brows lift. He must have missed that part of the introductions.

"If they're pack," he says once Sinclair has finished, "then as likely as not Seamus is in on the plot. If they're traitors, no one would know until it was much too late."

Turning to Billy, he drops his chin and lifts a brow. "Would you really be willing to risk that on a what if, mate?"

-retelling-

[*coughs* SEPTMATE.]

Sidewalk's End

[scrap everything before "Turning to Billy..."!]

-retelling-

"I'm willing to bet a group of us can overpower one Ragabash, no matter how crafty or sly he might be," Billy replies. "Even if we can't, we gotta try. If Bloody Smile's up to something, this might be our best shot at catching him and finally gettin' our foot through the door at the Sept. Gotta admit for a while there today I thought we were done for," he adds, glancing at Sinclair, "but amazingly 'nough you managed to pull us all back out of the fire.

"Regardless," back to business, "we're not gonna get nothin' done standin' around debatin'. Colleen, you're with me, Savage Oracle 'n End of the Road. Joe, get everybody else back together and wait -- either for us to come back or the Fianna to send word, or both."

Joseph shakes his head. "Whatever you say, cap'n. Jus' don't blame me if y'all end up lynched or somethin'."

"I'll go with you," Lukas says. "You might need extra muscle."

"I ain't arguin' that," Billy replies, "but we'll need to move fast."

Which is what they do. The small group becomes smaller still, half returning to the main camp, the other five circling back north, and west.

[Let's have some tracking rolls! I'll let you guys roll percep + PU at +3 dice b/c Colleen's with you, and a pretty good tracker.]

Sidewalk's End

[percept + PU +3, diff -2 (lupus)]

Dice: 7 d10 TN4 (4, 4, 7, 8, 9, 9, 10) ( success x 7 )

Brutal Revelation

[per + PU + Colleen]

Dice: 9 d10 TN4 (4, 4, 5, 5, 7, 7, 8, 8, 10) ( success x 9 )

Brutal Revelation

"I try to put out the fires I start," Sinclair tells Billy Bourne, giving a tongue-lolling grin. "Least I can do." And she puts her nose to the ground.

Brutal Revelation

[THEN GOD REACHES OUT AND TOUCHES THAT NOSE]

-retelling-

[actually, one more roll to determine how quickly you get there! stam + ath, normal diff!]

Brutal Revelation

[stam + ath]

Dice: 8 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 2, 6, 6, 6, 8, 9) ( success x 4 )

Sidewalk's End

[stam + lup]

Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (3, 4, 4, 9, 10) ( success x 2 )

-retelling-

They're the definition of a special task force. That term hasn't been invented yet, but they still fit it to a tee: mobile, swift, skilled. The five wolves have no trouble at all picking up the Fianna trail, and the pace they set is hard and fast. They swing wide of the Bawn, stay clear of where they know the Wyrm to be - this shunts them down a narrow corridor between the two influences, but the scent is clear as a beacon. The only question is how fast they'll run to reach it,

and the truth is, some can run faster than others.

Lukas and Sinclair have no trouble maintaining their pace. The Ahroun and the Galliard: they don't seem to tire. Colleen's a trooper too -- panting but running without strain, leaping nimbly over obstacles, skirting noisy patches as though by instinct. Maddox and Senachewine, though, soon begin to fall behind. It becomes readily apparent that the ones in the lead will either have to slow -- or leave their allies behind.

Brutal Revelation

Sinclair is not the first to notice that Billy Bourne and Maddox are falling behind -- Billy and Maddox are, most likely -- but when she does she hangs back a bit, sending over the totem bond: Lukas, take Colleen and go on ahead. I'll run with Difficult Current and Maddox. I don't think I could lose that trail in a thunderstorm. We'll catch up.

Sidewalk's End

Their Theurge is not a physical creature. If it weren't for his shifting blood, his ability to change form into a four-legged beast from a two-legged, he'd be a complete weakling. He'd probably live his life by his guitar, more so than he already does, showing up for gigs in bars, taking home the odd girl, getting by just barely. This suits Maddox just fine, most days.

He's not surprised when he starts to fall behind the others. His packmates are stronger and faster than he could ever hope to be. When it starts to become obvious he's not going to be able to keep up, he doesn't slow down his pace, but, he doesn't try to force himself to keep up, either.

That's alright, he sends back. We'll catch up. If there's trouble up there you'll need all the muscle you can muster.

Brutal Revelation

The Galliard of the Unbroken was, from early childhood, an athlete. Double back handsprings, breaststroke, aggressive beach volleyball, surfing, basket tosses -- this was all conditioning her body long before she Changed. If she hadn't been born Garou --

well, let's not follow that thought to its conclusion. There are aching regrets as well as pastel sweater-sets down that road.

But there is this: she could run Bloody Smiles and Seamus down just as fast as Lukas, and she could track their quarry tonight with no stars and nothing but dry ground. She lives in this world, and in this world she is a strong, athletic, swiftly running wolf. There's a flicker of disappointment in her as she hangs back and notices that Maddox is just keeping his pace, neither slowing down -- giving up -- nor pushing that much harder when he realizes he's falling behind, which to someone like Sinclair is just another form of giving up.

And if there's trouble back here, Sinclair shoots back, who's the muscle with you and Difficult Current? The Ragabash and the Ahroun should go ahead: her wit and scouting ability, his strength in case of trouble. We'll catch up. Just move! she says, and circles behind him and Difficult Current,

snapping at their heels, harrying them forward

like she has harried forward everyone today, and last night.

Sidewalk's End

He doesn't argue with that. There are spirits a thin veil away, and Maddox is a competent summoner. All it would take is him reaching across and dragging something -- anything -- over to buy time for escape or to call upon more firepower.

When Sinclair circles around behind him, he knows what's coming. Before her jaws can snap at his heels, he pushes himself to pick up the pace.

-retelling-

Wyrmbreaker casts only one glance over his back. Then - a Shadow Lord, after all - he surges forward, vanishing into the thicket with the lanky-legged Fianna Ragabash. Left behind, Senachewine picks up the pace as well. Sinclair snaps at Maddox's heels, but he tries to go faster before she gets a chance, and all three of them, all together, move a little quicker.

They're still a good quarter-mile away when they smell it suddenly: blood on the wind. And close on the heels of that, distant snarls and growls. Lukas's voice in their minds, urgent and angry:

Found Seamus. He's almost dead. A pack of Dancers here. Bloody Smile's nowhere to be seen, but how much do you want to bet he's either running for the Dancers or running back to the Sept with a tongue full of lies?

Brutal Revelation

Immediately -- even as Lukas is still speaking -- Sinclair begins barking aloud to Billy Bourne what she's hearing from her Alpha. When it's over, she surges forward, snapping to the Child of Gaia: "Go back to your sept and the Fianna caern -- tell them we are fighting the Dancers that don't exist." And, whether Maddox can keep up or not, she lunges over a fallen tree, kicking up mud with her hind legs as she pounds toward the battle.

Sidewalk's End

A moment before Lukas' words reach them, Maddox would have sworn he was going just as fast as his paws could carry him. He strains his muscles to work harder, to go faster, to get there.

Then, the report comes. The Theurge's ears flatten to his skull. A burst of adrenaline gives him just that much more of a boost for a few steps more. Sinclair breezes past him easily, barking to the other Galliard, and Maddox begins to shift upward as he runs. Up to Hispo, and again into Crinos, still on all fours, his loping ungainly. He claws at the earth, tearing huge gouges as he finally pushes himself from four legs to two.

Sinclair and Lukas rush toward the battle. Maddox finds his talens, readies them between the fingers of one hand as he hurries to join them.

-retelling-

Billy hesitates only for a second. Then he whips around and races away, sparing only enough time to shout, "Be careful!" before he's gone.

[If you guys wanna activate anything/do anything, now's the time!]

Brutal Revelation

[shifting to hispo as she runs.

resist pain, -1WP.

steelfur. -1WP, stamina + science. suxx add to health pool.]

Dice: 8 d10 TN7 (2, 3, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10) ( success x 4 )

Sidewalk's End

[soak talen!]

Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (2, 2, 3, 5, 9, 9) ( success x 2 )

-retelling-

When Sinclair and Maddox burst onto the scene, they find battle already joined and pitched. There are six Dancers. Seven, actually, but one lies dead, crumpled at the base of a tree, eyes staring and horrible. Another is badly wounded, but five others are circling like vultures, cackling, taunting.

The Ahroun and the Ragabash are back to back, teeth bared. They're guarding the ragged, convulsing ruin of Seamus - already in breed form, choking on blood. They circle too, and it takes the rest of the Unbroken only an instant to see that they're trying to keep the strongest Dancers facing Lukas. His eyes flick over to his packmates when they're in sight. He doesn't give them away. He waits, though, and when they attack -

so does he.

-retelling-

[for the record: lukas probably put a BB on (+6) and activated resist pain en route, but i doubt he had time to do much else!]

Brutal Revelation

Maddox -- if you can heal Seamus... are the last coherent words any of the Unbroken hear from Sinclair for awhile after that. As for her, she catches Lukas's eye and moves, quick as she can, behind the Dancers that face her pack Alpha.

-retelling-

[let's init! same as ever: dex + wits + 1d10

also, FOR THE RECORD, this is a new dice system. if it's obviously not working, we'll scrap and go back to old one.]

Brutal Revelation

[+10]

Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (2) ( fail )

Sidewalk's End

Sinclair moves to take the Dancers from behind. Maddox waits only to clear a path to his alpha and the wounded butthead on the ground.

[+7]

Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (9) ( success x 1 )

-retelling-

lukas! +20

Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (6) ( success x 1 )

-retelling-

colleen! +8

Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (6) ( success x 1 )

-retelling-

Albert! +20

Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (1) ( botch x 1 )

-retelling-

Buck! +7

Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (9) ( success x 1 )

-retelling-

Cade! +8

Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (3) ( fail )

-retelling-

Dan! +8

Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (8) ( success x 1 )

-retelling-

Eli! +10

Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (8) ( success x 1 )

-retelling-

Fred! +4 (gurk... almost ded...)

Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (9) ( success x 1 )

-retelling-

Init
Lukas 26
Al 21
Eli 18
Dan 16
Maddox 16
Buck 16
Colleen 14
Fred 13
Sinclair 12
Cade 11











-retelling-

Cade:

1. Try to bite Seamus!

a. Again!

b. I'm really out to get him!

Brutal Revelation

[1a. get behind Albert

1b. bite Albert omnomnom

1c. OM NOM NOM

r1. still on albert, switching to Eli otherwise]

-retelling-

[oh man, for the record, by 1 / a / b i meant 1 / R1 / R2]

-retelling-

Buck

1a. claw lookasch!

R1. again!

R2. bite him!

Colleen

0. Will take hit Cade-1 for Seamus

1. Claw Albert!

R1. Again!

Fred

1. Ow... ow... hamstring Sinclair!

R1. RUN AWAY, RUN AWAY.

Sidewalk's End

[Who needs physical stats when you a TALEN MACHEEN?

1a: Moon Sign on Cade
1b: Moon Sign on Al
1c: -1G GB butthead]



-retelling-

Lukas

0. Take other two hits for Seamus!

1a. bite Al

b. again

R1. sommore!

R2. srsly, chomp

R3. CHOMP

Al

1. Bite Lukas!

R1. Bite Colleen!

R2. Lukas!

R3. Colleen!

R4. I CAN GO FIVE TIMES TOO. Bite Lukas!

Eli

1. Oh hey, new people. Bite Maddox!

R1. Stay on him!

R2. Like white on rice!

Dan

1. Bite Sinclair!

R1. Stick to her!

R2. Like glue!

-retelling-

Lukas

Biting: attack score = 20, Al's defend = a disgusting 15; rolling 5 dice at diff 5 (biting). 1's don't subtract, 10's are rerolled. Each succ = -1 health!

Dice: 5 d10 TN5 (2, 3, 7, 7, 7, 10) ( success x 4 ) Re-rolls: 1

-retelling-

Again!

Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (1, 3, 8, 8, 8) ( success x 2 )

-retelling-

+1 succ for the 1. Al down 7, but he had more than 7 to start so he's still up.

-retelling-

Al: bites Lukas! Al has resist pain, so does not lose dice. Al's attack is 18; Lukas's defense is 13. Rolling 5 dice at diff 5.

Dice: 5 d10 TN5 (3, 4, 6, 7, 7, 10) ( success x 4 ) Re-rolls: 1

-retelling-

Eli: biting Maddox. Eli's attack is 16. Maddox's defense is 9. Rolling 7 dice at diff 5!

Dice: 7 d10 TN5 (2, 4, 4, 5, 6, 7, 7) ( success x 4 )

-retelling-

Dan: biting Sinclair! 16 attack - 12 def = 4 diff 5.

Dice: 4 d10 TN5 (1, 2, 2, 9, 10) ( success x 1 ) Re-rolls: 1

-retelling-

[2 succ! 1 doesn't count]

Sidewalk's End

[1a: Talen actimication! Gnosis -3, -1 (ow!), diff 5]

Dice: 2 d10 TN5 (6, 10) ( success x 2 )

-retelling-

Cade: don'tshiftdon'tshift

Dice: 5 d10 TN7 (1, 2, 3, 4, 8) ( fail )

-retelling-

Cade: lupus!

Sidewalk's End

[1a: Talen actimication onnnnnnnn Eli! Gnosis -4 -1 (ow!), diff 6]

Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (2) ( fail )

Sidewalk's End

[-1G, +4HL to Seamus!]

-retelling-

[Seamus heals up a little and groggily wakes up - will be active next round!]

-retelling-

Buck: clawing Lukas! Attack 14, Lukas's Defense is 13. Buck takes +1 diff; Lukas's defense drops to 11. 3 dice at diff 7!

Dice: 3 d10 TN7 (5, 7, 8) ( success x 2 )

-retelling-

Colleen: FINISH AL! 16 attack vs 15 defense; taking +2 diff to drop defense to 11. 5 dice at diff 8! +WP

Dice: 5 d10 TN8 (1, 4, 7, 9, 9) ( success x 2 ) [WP]

-retelling-

[3 succ... and Al is incap!]

-retelling-

Fred: I be hamstring nao? 7 attack vs 12 defend. Base diff is 8; +2 diff only drops defense to 8, so... no. Fred does not hamstring. FAIL.

Brutal Revelation

[1b. ELI NOM]

Dice: 5 d10 TN3 (2, 3, 4, 4, 5) ( success x 4 )

Brutal Revelation

[1c. ELI NOM 2]

Dice: 4 d10 TN3 (3, 3, 3, 8, 10, 10) ( success x 6 ) Re-rolls: 2

-retelling-

Eli: (x_X)

-retelling-

Cade: I be nom Seamus, k? 11 Attack

Colleen: NEWP. 13 Defend.

Cade takes +2 diff; Colleen at 9.

Dice: 2 d10 TN8 (3, 9) ( success x 1 )

Brutal Revelation

[THOU SHALT NOT BITE THE HEALBOT, ELI.]

-retelling-

[midround summary:

Format is: Name Init Attack Defense StartHP CurrentHP

Lukas 26 20 13 13 6
Eli 18 16 10 7 x_X (OK 3)
Dan 16 16 10 7
Maddox 16 9 8 4
Buck 16 14 10 7
Colleen 14 16 13 7 6
Fred 13 7 7 7
Sinclair 12 12 11 9
Cade 11 11 8 7

Seamus 10 8 4

INCAP
Al 21 18 15 10 0]










-retelling-

er. THIS.

Init Attack Defend Health
Lukas 26 20 13 13 6
Dan 16 16 10 7
Maddox 16 11 9 8 4
Buck 16 14 10 7
Colleen 14 16 13 7 6
Fred 13 7 7 7
Sinclair 12 19 12 11 9
Cade 11 11 8 7

Seamus 10 8 4

INCAP
Al 21 18 15 10 0

DED
Eli 18 16 10 7 x_X (OK 3)











-retelling-

Lukas, R1 - chomping Dan! Attack 20, Defense 10

Dice: 10 d10 TN5 (1, 1, 3, 3, 5, 5, 7, 8, 8, 8, 10, 10) ( success x 6 ) Re-rolls: 2

-retelling-

+2 from the stupid 1's.

-retelling-

Dan: obviously NOT biting Sinclair anymore. On to Maddox!

-retelling-

Er. On to Buck!

R1. Biting lukas! Attack 14, Defense 13, taking +2 diff to drop defense to 9.

Dice: 5 d10 TN7 (1, 2, 4, 7, 9) ( success x 1 )

-retelling-

+1

-retelling-

Colleen: moving on to claw Cade! Attack 16, Defense 8.

Dice: 8 d10 TN6 (1, 3, 3, 5, 8, 8, 8, 8, 10) ( success x 4 ) Re-rolls: 1

-retelling-

+1

-retelling-

Fred: I BE RUN NOW, TAY. -5, ow ow ow.

Dice: 2 d10 TN6 (1, 9) ( fail )

-retelling-

or not.

Brutal Revelation

[R1. CHOMP BUCK IN HIS BADONKADONK.]

Dice: 9 d10 TN3 (1, 3, 3, 3, 5, 6, 8, 9, 9, 10, 10, 10, 10, 10) ( success x 12 ) Re-rolls: 5

Brutal Revelation

[+1. 13 HP annihiliated. Buck is a splatter.]

-retelling-

LOL. Buck: ____ __

-retelling-

Cade: WELL I'M STILL BITIN SEAMUS! Attack is currently 9

Lukas: defend! 13

Cade: +3 diff, drops defense to 7!

Dice: 2 d10 TN8 (3, 6) ( fail )

-retelling-

Lukas: R2, attacking Cade, 20 vs 6

Dice: 14 d10 TN5 (1, 1, 1, 2, 2, 2, 3, 7, 7, 7, 7, 8, 8, 9, 10, 10, 10) ( success x 7 ) Re-rolls: 3

-retelling-

+3; Cade also down. Combat ends!

-retelling-

Final score:

Format is Name Init Attack Defense StartHP CurrentHP

Lukas 26 20 13 13 4
Maddox 16 11 9 8 4
Colleen 14 16 13 7 6
Sinclair 12 19 12 11 9
Seamus 4

INCAP
Al 21 18 15 10 0

DED
Buck 16 14 10 7 0 (OK 6)
Cade 9 9 6 7 0 (OK 8)
Dan 16 16 10 7 0 (OK 1)
Eli 18 16 10 7 0 (OK 3)

FLEEING

Fred 2










 
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