Thread: The Battle

ST’s note:
For those of you who made it to the game and participated; thank you so much for helping us create and tell this epic tale. For those of you who lost a character (Which will be noted at the end of the post), while no one wants to lose their PC, thank you for showing that the Garou don’t do anything half assed. This narrative is primarily for the readers and those who proxied their PC’s. It is by no means 100% accurate, as two other ST’s were running their portions. I will do my best to ensure that there is no confusion in my writing so that each Garou is accounted for, but please remember, I’m only human. If I should forget to mention your Garou, please PM and I can advise what occurred for you.


Road kill Range.

Not the most welcoming of names...but one the Garou of Gaia have come to know as a place of trial and tribulation.

A place of tested mettle; a place of victory...and failure.

Today, your name will be added to the silver record, be it current...or posthumously. By the spirits or the stars...by your elders or punishments, you are here now.

These people have become your Sept.your packs...your friends...your family. Brought together by Gaia’s design alone, to defend her and protect her sacred place of power.

Today, you will fight to reawaken the Caern so that her heart will beat stronger. Warriors to defend; Theurges to awaken. As dawn breaks, you awaken quickly...if you even slept at all...

The Ahrouns can feel it on their skin...and taste it on their tongues...Battle and Glory.
The Theurges can hear it on the winds...sacrifice and suffering. The Galliards wait to tell tales of sorrow or rejoice in tales of Victory...either way, lessons to be learned. The Philodox ponder both sides of the coin...judgment cometh. The Ragbash turn their trickterous pranks into cunning plans.

Deep beneath the Heartfire, the Theurges sit and prepare to begin the most difficult decision of their lives. Everything rests on their ability. This place will become your home...or your burial ground.

Above, amongst the spirits of the earth and trees, you wait...The early morning dew is thick and the mists linger under the canopy of leafed trees. Everything is quiet. Then gunfire...no wait, that’s a woodpecker...

You heave a sigh of "Calm the Eff down" and wait until the signal is given.

Quickly the wind spirit glides to each pack and battlement, alerting that the ritual has begun. Everyone goes on read alert and bristles for an immanent attack...that doesn’t come...

The silence seems deafening. Even the hispo and lupus form Garou cock their heads from side to side, straining to hear the faintest sounds of...wait...what’s that? Coming from the east...

As the Theurges gathered within the heart of the Caern, they looked upon each other both for assurance and reassurance; it was time. They began the ritual of awakening and sent a host of spirits of the wind to alert the packs.

The Dark Riders set up at the Eastern edge of the Bawn, facing closest to the city. Danu’s Prodigy had chosen to watch Sasha as her personal bodyguard. Ravens Feast, not yet fully formed, but being watched by Ravens grace stayed at the Heartfire, awaiting any stragglers who broke through the front line. Ayven, Roscoe and William perched upon the cabin rooftops with their guns, waiting for just the right shot.

As the Dark Riders waited, looking down into the mists, shadows and shapes began to take form. Not moving at breakneck speeds like the Wyrm coming to overtake this place, but slowly and methodically. As small humanoid shapes began to come into focus, the Dark Riders saw them first…children. The townsfolk of Robins tail Range had been ensorcelled by the Wyrm as the front line. Shambling awkwardly, like zombies they shuffled across the forest floor carrying knives and tools, some even carrying sharpened sticks or rocks. As they move closer, the children of the town join each other in song, bringing macabre irony to the fight.

“Jesus loves the little children, all the children of the world…red and yellow, black and white, they are perfect in his sight, Jesus loves the little children of the world…”

The pack bristled, watching “Enticers” who followed behind the front line moving their hands like macabre puppeteers. With malevolent rictus grins, the children of all ages stalked towards them.

Tala watched and began to direct her pack through the mind link the pack shared. Sebastian gathered his muscles and said, “This kids are about to fall into a pit trap! I need to get over the children to take out the puppeteers”… “Do it.” She said. As Sebastian bounded off his hispo form, something happened, as two arms reached from within the Umbra and grabbed Tala, wrenching her through the tear. Pitre growled and followed into the Umbra and disappeared from sight.

Samara caught a glimpse of one of the children, posey’s older brother. The rage inside her would not be contained and she succumbed to the fires of frenzy howling madly and bounding down the hill towards the front line. Using her gifts of speed, she over ran Sebastian, who quickly devised something was wrong. Turning his attentions to her, he attempted to halt her attack. Her mouth frothed as the rage ran wild within her. Her chest heaved as she tore up the ground racing towards the children, not knowing what she might do once she got there. Sebastian clamped down upon her and they wrestled for a moment, when suddenly, Sebastian was taken over by some spirit, causing him to howl in rage and tear and claw at himself. Samara, raced and reached the front line, only to be met by the gaze of a Hellishly beautiful woman whose eyes glowed like balefire…her honey sweet words invaded Samaras mind and turned it against Gaia with three subtle words…”Kill them all…” At that moment, all the townsfolk suddenly blinked momentarily and looked around in horror at the creatures all around them. The three children Sebastian was seemingly trying to save fell into one of the Ahroun pit traps, with one of them hanging for dear life before falling under her own weight, to her death. Samaras eyes glowed lambent green as small tufts of green smoke rose from them. Her lips curled as she lunged at Sebastian, who had leapt upon one of the enticers. He bit down upon its soft flesh and rended and tore at its face, hearing its maniacal laughter as some creeping poison in its veins began to crawl into his mouth.

On the top of the ridge, Tala crossed the umbra again, freed from what had pulled her across. Ayven, Charles and Roscoe came to the ridge surveying the battlefield quickly. Roscoe peered down the ridge seeing the broken and battered body of Lisa, sending him into a warrior’s frenzy. He bounded down the hill using the full weight of his body to propel himself forward and slammed into human and Wyrm creature alike. Charles dropped to his stomach and leveled the sniper rifle sighting in on any Wyrmfoe he could find. Ran and Thom Starsky joined the battle to be met by a horrifying creature that was humanoid, save for the four lashing barbed tentacles coming from its sides. It hissed and shot the tendrils at the Garou, slamming ragged talons into the flesh of the hispo and Crinos Garou. Starskys Armor of Luna was able to shrug some of the damage. As the creatures pressed on, the battle did not sway in the garous favor, as Starsky fell under the baleful talons and tentacles. Ran, dodging strikes and blows, scooped up Starsky and headed to the top of the hill.

Wapoke blinked in and out of the umbra, healing the garou as they lay there with Wyrm tainted slashes and chemical burns. Charles lined up his scope on a disgustingly huge, bloated fomori as it waddled across the battlefield. One shot, two shots, three shots. BOOM. It exploded in a gory shower of pus and acid. Windwalker kept Joseph by his side as they struck in tandem upon the Wyrm-kissed foes. Joe, only now beginning to stretch his newfound powers, was really starting to exert his Ahroun nature and enjoying the rage that flowed within him. Windwalker began to recall the rush of blood and the feeling of the rage that spurned him on with his brothers at his side. He whooped like a savage and counted Coux upon foe after foe. Looking to Joseph to make sure he was doing all right, he stabbed his spear into the head of one of the Fomori that was coming upon Joes flank. He smiled…and then his face contorted. A spray of blood washed over Josephs face as not one or two, but eight lashing tendrils spiked through the Adrens midsection. Two of the tentacled monsters had flanked the old Wendigo and attacked at his pause. The tendrils strained and contorted upon themselves as they tore the garous midsection apart. Too much damage at once for even Gaias breath to save him. The warmth of his body escaped into the early dawn light as his body reverted to his homid breed form.
Ayven moved closer down the hill and hurled a Molotov through the air, aided by the strength of his Crinos form. It sailed silently until connecting with a tree branch raining down fire upon fomori and human townsfolk alike. Though it would have been nice to save the townspeople, the taint that coursed through them marked them as Wyrmfoe as well. Charles watched as an older woman walked up the hill carrying an infant. He shook his head for a moment and then shots rang out, spilling her acidic blood all over the child’s body. He closed his eyes for a moment, perhaps asking forgiveness, when a chatter to his right caught his eye. The squirrel looked mangy and unkempt. Its lips had curled back and the two front teeth were more like tiny sabers. Charles flinched causing it to skitter back a few steps…then, it leapt upon his back and shuddered, exploding meat and bone into the air. He winced as the shards dug into his flesh.

Roscoe trained upon the body of the human he’d found love with. The heat having already slipped away from her, he raged and fueled his entire being down into the hulking masses, cleaving into fomor and human alike. Tala turned her steely gaze to Samara and commanded her to shrug off the Wyrms emanations. For a few moments, it worked as the pack worked together to dispatch Wyrmfoes, but, mere seconds later, Samara turned again upon Roscoe. The Dark Riders worked to free her from the possession, but the honey sweet words of another enticer ensorcelled Tala as well…Sebastian combated Samara and Pitre, after Tala. Before they could subdue the women and keep them from harming others, or worse, Roscoe was dead under their claws.

Tala screamed out in a moment of clarity for the packs totem, Owl. “Aid us please…” Like a bolt of lightning, the gauntlet opened up, as four Crinos Silent Striders came from the Umbra, bearing copesh and D’siah’s. Like a cavalry, they swept in and made short work of the remaining fomori.

Ayven had been set upon by another Wyrm creature who screamed and called for more of its own. Ran, Starsky and Charles went to his aid to combat the foe. A huge lumbering pus filled fomori spewed gouts of vomit and bile as they fought. When the final blow was claimed, Starsky and Charles had given their lives to protect this place. Even the stranger, Jason, who had come merely on this day to help, was dead upon the battlefield…none scarcely knew his name or his deeds.

Suddenly, a clap of thunder unlike anything ever heard by these warriors, resounded across the battlefield, stunned the Wyrmfoes and they stood, motionless. Taking the momentum, the garou began laying killing blows and using the advantage. Then, suddenly, it was done…like a sudden singe from an ember upon their bodies, the tear drop scar emblazoned itself…the ritual was complete…

Those who had made it were tending to their wounds and surveying the dead. There were far too many dead this day. The Gathering for the Departed would be somber indeed. Gaia would reclaim many this day…and but for the glimmer of hope that they would return to defend her.





Part 2




The mission statement of Raven's Feast as they watched The Dark Riders move to the front lines. The same statement ran through their heads as they attempted to focused on the battle at hand. A Cub, two Cliath, a Fostern, and an Adren stood among the early morning fog covering the camp grounds; they were a small group but each dedicated to the defense of this Caern and slaying the oncoming Wyrm forces.


Sweat beaded on their massive warform brows as they watched and listened; waiting for their time to come.


The fierce and astute eyes of the children of Raven scanned their surroundings for the sign to move. How the fog did make the trees seem to stretch tall and forever to the hazy sky above. Donovan, Adren Forseti Fenrir, knew his duty to lead this pack. The words of moments before constantly rolled through his head as his mind wandered to the assembly of Galliards and Philodox. Donovan had closed his eyes, focused, and breathed slowly as he prepared to view the Umbra. Opening them again, his connection with Gaia gave him leave to observe the ephemeral landscape of the Umbra.


At first he saw nothing more than anytime before in the local Umbra -- though it was decidedly less crowded then it had been once before. Taking some relief he slowly let his eyes move to close so he could see the real world again - and that is when he caught it. Several chameleon-esque nimbi that feintly sparkled and twinkled like the stars, drifted slowly toward the bawn. They were hardly distinguishable, really. Like the illusion of heat rolling off of hot summer pavement with the most feint glint of something otherworldly.


Brothers and sisters, something comes this way Umbraside. Follow me. He thought the words. Raven carried them to the pack as a subtle whisper in their minds.


Slowly, Donovan parted the Umbra, calling upon the connection to Gaia deeply seeded within his core. With a flash of silver light the "real world" was torn open only slightly, and Donovan stepped through. Nikki, Cliath Child of Gaia Philodox, gritted her teeth, knowing that it would be her hands that her pack could rely upon to mend wounds in battle. She too thought of the words of the meeting before, a lengthier deliberation that what was available but ultimately would decide the fate of this effort. Culls With Care, Fostern Red Talon Philodox, followed suit, using the powerful nostrils at the end of his massive snout to attempt to sense for danger. He had been at the meeting before, but his mind was on the battle at hand. Marcus, Cliath Shadow Lord Ragabash, would not allow his emotions rule him and he calmly stepped through. Shawn, Theurge Cub, was only slightly more comfortable stepping in to the Umbra, but the uncertainty of what was to come made his stomach roll in painful anticipation.


As the silver doorway closed behind them, Donovan's eyes dropped into a scowling glare as the nimbi stopped and turned on the pack. The once perhaps alluring and gorgeous guise of floating, sparkling, nimbi quickly faded away to reveal four banes of Rage that howled and roared for the oncoming battle. A slight smirk settled on Donovan's face as the mighty Spirit Ward he carried flashed with glowing light and basked them in protection. The Rage Banes cared not for the massive weight that the Ward would put upon them, slowing their movement and reaction time. After all, they had no plans to spend their time manifested. These Garou would be fine specimens of destruction to possess and lead against the Sept.


The battle was immediately upon Raven's Feast as the Banes swooped like spectral avatars of animosity at the Garou. Marcus evaluated the fight, and instinctively followed the orders he had been given before - he became like the nimbi before, only an invisible shifting pattern in the otherworld. Unseen and safe for the time being. A few blurring movements and the pack launched back at the banes.


In only the first few seconds two Banes roared and slammed into Nikki and Shawn, causing their eyes to go wild and bloodshot with hatred as the Banes slowly assimilated and possessed their consciousness. It was a battle of the wills now to retain their control, and as they felt the hot flood of hate wash over their minds they were quickly overthrown by an alien mind of bloodlust. Though Nikki and Shawn were no longer in control of themselves, they were not given the reprieve of a blank wait while they were being used. They were still fully aware -- given front seat to the auditorium of bloodshed and malice. The two Garou looked on in horror through their own eyes, watching and feeling as in a frenzied state their massive claws began to rend their own flesh. Something akin to eating themselves alive in a furious, mauling, berserker rage.


Donovan, Culls With Care, and Shawn watched their packmates fall and heard the mental screams of their packmates who felt themselves being torn apart from the outside to the in. Their resolved steeled they launched at the other two Banes that had narrowly missed possessing them as well. Rending and spirit essence with axe and fang the two stood side by side and fended off several attacks and launched blows of their own. Nikki and Shawn continued to devour themselves as they convulsed on the Umbra ground, a pool of their own blood beginning to from beneath them. Marcus obeyed his orders, though he could not bare to look at his helpless packmates that lie writhing on the ground next to him. It was all a person could take to not be able to block out their screams that the packlink was being used by the Banes to communicate. He watched on in horror as he saw another Bane slam into Culls With Care and he winced as he anticipated the Red Talon's demise something like a rabid dog devouring itself.


Though this was not the case. Culls may have been a Red Talon, but he was not an ignorant beast. He was, as wolves are, a cunning predator and he knew the definition of balance. It was long ago he knew that the Rage of his Tribe would prove his undoing if not tempered by the logically advanced mind that separated him from his kinfolk. He was able to better the Bane that rode him, and control his frenzy. He felt the warm wash of blood lust roll over his mind, and he channeled it. In doing, he gave it what it wanted. Turning now from the last Bane that was involved with Donovan, Cull's eyes caught glimpse of two shadows lurking in the trees above; shadows that Nikki had seen and been watching only moments before she lost all control. Leaping up with the powerful leg muscles of a killing machine his massive maw wrapped around the torso of one of the shadows and bit deep. Massive gouts of foul tasting blood rolled down his throat as he violently thrashed his head in attempted to pull the Fomori in half. His eyes opened as he watched a massive, scorpion like tail curve up and over the creatures head stabbing down at him but only glancing off of his thick hide.


Marcus watched below as Donovan fended off the bane inside and his eyes went wide as he saw a second shadowy Fomori move to flank Culls who fought in the trees. Already he had seen too much of his packmates falling and devouring themselves, he would not watch other torn asunder by two Wyrmbeasts. Orders to remain out of sight be damned. He too moved to leap up to help Culls with the Fomori above, but as he did so he watched the flanking Fomori pounce-tackle Culls With Care, and in a blinding flash of Umbral quicksilver the second Fomori and Culls were gone. Marcus cried out in anger as he knew not the fate of his packmate and he moved to engage the already wounded Fomori. The two danced around each other for several moments, but the Fomori knew it could not win this battle wounded as it already was. It's spring-like legs leapt out and away from Marcus, denying him his vengeance as it faded far away in to the Umbral treeline.


Donovan knew the prognosis to be grim. This battle would not last much longer for the Garou, and while he was skillfully handling the Bane that could not match him in physical prowess - he knew his packmates that lie shredded by their own talons on the ground beside him could not endure much more of their punishment. He closed his eyes to focus and attempt to think of the best strategy to prove victorious from this mess. He had to center himself, and he thought of the wind-chimes that blew about several of the cabin doors of the camp. Then it clicked. He kept his eyes closed and he howled a powerful howl of summoning. A Call to Duty - spirits of tranquility that blew as the breeze through the camp. He beckoned them come in hopes they would stave off these beings of hatred and help his packmates regain control. He was uncertain as to whether they would arrive in time.




* * *.


Limping slightly from the battle in the cave where he fought aside the Fianna, Snaps Chains, Cliath Red Talon Ragabash wandered the Umbrascape. Searching for where he was needed next. It was not long before he heard the sounds of battle, and in Hispo, he moved quickly toward the battle ahead. As it came into sight he surveyed the two Garou lying on the ground as blurs of self destruction, and the mighty Get of Fenris fighting off the Bane spirit with supreme skill. He called upon his connection to Gaia and blurred with his surrounding and approached from the creatures flank. At the opportune moment, he leapt at the remaining Bane and began to tear into it ferociously - seeing it greatly wounded. The Fenrir had no time to nod his acknowledgement to the new Red Talon that assisted him, but Snaps knew where he was needed, and the battle was joined.




* * *


Marcus leapt from the trees down among the new Red Talon and his Alpha, Donovan. The three faced off the Bane who knew it had not long to live. In a final attempt to avoid utter destruction, the spirit leapt into the new Red Talon - and merged successfully. At first, Snaps held his composure well though he too began to lose his mind to the red hot scalding of blood drunkeness. With their only Theurge, the young Cub, writhing on the ground next to him, Donovan knew this battle was shortly over. The Garou were going to consume themselves and then all three Banes would emerge to do the same to he and Marcus. It was at this time he felt the cool breeze wash over him and the group, and he saw the spirits of air, the tranquility spirits descend from the sky and circle the frenzied Garou. The sound of wind chimes beckoned to the Garou and as they wind chimes became louder and more prominent - the roar of battle began to fade away. At the same time, Culls appeared back in the Umbra next to the group - still possessed, the Bane inside him that had been feeding off of Cull's rage, shrieked in anguish at the sound of the tranquil wind-chimes. One by one, the wind-chimes exorcised the hate spirits from the Garou who where barely more than self-mutilated, bloody, messy, pulps of flesh. Nikki and Shawn both came to their senses and cried out as the pain they had inflicted on themselves was finally able to be verbalized. The inner feeling of having been, essentially, raped lurked to the back of their minds to emerge later when the time for reflection of the battle came to haunt them in their dreams. Next the spirit within Culls, and finally, the spirit within Snaps were expelled from them. The Garou felt that these leeching Banes had not just inhabited them, but now, had taken all of their inner rage as a parting present.


The Garou stood to their feet, but the battle was not yet over. The Banes that had emerged were long from gone - they now stood several times larger than they were when they had taken over the pack and Snaps. They had used them as Rage batteries, and in doing so, fed themselves to become mighty and powerful. Their heads now were topped with grotesque wolfen ears, and their hands ended in massive jagged claws. Screaming, the newly empowered Banes descended upon the Garou, who stood little to no chance with all of their might sapped and themselves badly wounded. Yet this, obvious and ultimately fatal fact would not prevent them from doing their jobs. Bloodied, battered, and empty, Raven's Feast and their Red Talon ally launched back at the new massive Hate Banes.


As axe and talon and claw met the now obsidian consistency of the banes a blur of battle began. Donovan had called his inner reserve, his Might of Thor, knowing that this may be his last battle, and lead the pack to all move and fight down the banes one at a time. Where the Garou did wound the banes they found that the innards, beneath the black glass surface of the Banes were no more than devastatingly hot magma that slopped, slushed, and geysered out with every blow; burning the Garou as they fought.



Snaps knew these creatures had to be put down, but he was also aware of the damage he was sustaining. With one, heroic and final leap - he lunged at the first massive Bane, his Hispo fangs shattering a huge part of the creature, but as the liquid hot magma rolled into his open mouth and filled his open throat he felt great pain for the briefest moment and he slowly was incinerated from the inside, slumping the ground - shifting to the small form of a badly broken, burned, and dead wolf.


As Raven's Feast watched the one who had come from nowhere to attempt to help them fall to the ground they felt a great mourning bell release inside. They would mourn the one who died for them, but it could not be now.


The last few blows delivered by the Pack and the creature cried out to the sky as it began radiating powerful heat from the inside - it's core of anger that it had stolen could not be snuffed, only released. As it did so the form of the Bane shattered and the lava inside rained down in massive waves on the Pack, burning and charring them all.


The other Banes then moved to attack the group, but as they did some subtle wrang out in the Umbra. The Garou could not hear it, but observed as suddenly the massive obsidian spirits of rage floated listlessly before them. Without a moments thought or hesitation they took advantage of the break before them the descended upon the second Bane. Shawn, already wounded badly attempted to move away as the creature exploded again, but he was brought down by a large gout of lava - he lay burnt and wounded on the ground. Culls watched and felt Shawn fall over the Pack link and let loose a chuff of warning, but it was too late - as the third Bane finally detonated and the lava covered the group again. Putting himself over Shawn he felt the lava that would have finished the cub pour down his back and take his flesh with it as it rolled off of him.


Marcus moved to push the last Bane away from the group, but as his fingers touched it - it had come to life, and in a blur of hatred it tore into the young Shadow Lord. The Pack attacked the creatures flank as it relentless buried it's glass talons in the Cliath - and then there was something that washed through the Umbra. Like the bell that halted the spirits before, only this time a powerful clap like the thunder of a God that blew through all that stood in the Umbra. As it did, the final Bane took it's last wound, and exploded again. The lava that reigned down washed over the entire pack, killing Marcus, who it was closest to and finishing Shawn who lie on the ground. Nikki and Donovan fell to the Umbral ground, their eyes fluttering as their lives flashed before them. Slowly their bodies began to shut down, and they drifted into blankness. Noticing his pack all fallen around him, Culls released his plea to Raven to call for help as he attempted to tend to Nikki and Donovan who were on their last thread. He noticed that on his own flesh, as well as the flesh of his packmate, an odd mark scarred into them - a tear drop. A sign of hope. Only moments later, Raven escorted clouds of rain to wash down a small amount of healing over the pack. Enough to stabilize Nikki and Donovan.


As the other packs arrived at the call of Raven - they witnessed the sacrifice of Raven's Feast. Three dead Garou. Many much too young to have been in this battle.


And so it was that the real horror of this battle sank in and the first lesson of battle with the Wyrm was learned. Not the blood, or the guts, or the wounds sustained will ever tell the true grimness that is the sacred duty of the Garou. But the memories, and the horror of what they will witness. Knowing now that no Garou enters battle with the Wyrm, regardless of how victorious, and emerges on the other side the same or without loss.