ance[Attrition] (So Disclaimer:
1) The 'Taking a Hit Rule' in the Latest Announcements forums thread will not apply for the duration of this scene or any other scene that I run. I don't agree with it. Any objections or concerns can be made in the AIM chat.
2) All my scenes contain risk of death, just to get that out of the way. That said, I'm more of an advocate for experimenting and figuring things out with combative dicing as a last resort. Feel free to drop me a line with any concerns or questions as the Scene progresses, in the AIM Chat or if it is something you want to keep private (Merits, Flaws, background) then drop me an IM
[Attrition] "There's a blockage somewhere on the Western edge of Cabrini's reflection..."
Every Garou that was part of the Sept was required to run some Gauntlet and Guardian duty at some point or another. Patrols were a regular commodity within the Caern proper and no single Garou was exempt from the duty, tedious and somewhat superfluous as it might have been with so many of the Guardians to do the job. Still, part of duty was commitment and part of that commitment was dedication.
It is also an untold fact that patrols are meant to bring together small collections of Garou to go out and handle situations at a moment's notice, without howling about it for minutes in all directions. Easy enough to go and handle a Wyrm blight or incursion with those on hand as well as get word out to the necessary packs when one of their members was patrolling the bawn at any given moment.
"We isolated it to a few of the standard areas normally inhabited by the Wyrm and it's Beast of War affiliates. Hounds, scrags nothing out of the ordinary but activity has been quiet as of late."
Webrunner was a busy creature. He'd spent years mapping much of Chicago's penumbral expanse and watching the Taint and levels of triatic influence throughout the City ebb and wax with regularity, enough that he could probably have told just about anyone, anything they needed to know about what the Umbra in Chicago was doing at any given moment. A whisper from a Pigeon spirit or a Cockroach could deliver news of a forming Blight in need of stamping out or an Elemental blaze that was going out of control.
So it could hardly be considered out of the ordinary when he sent out brief messages to those in the bawn at the moment, picking out individuals with deft skill via small Gafflings and bringing them to his side for Briefing. He was a lean fellow in a lot of layers, fiddling with some ITouch or other touch pad device, sitting on a chuck of metal debris from the shipyard.
"Lot of you need to go clear the blockage as best you can. Flow of traffic out that way isn't meant to be so congested and the Wyrmlings start bulking up in that area, it's going to be a shit storm in another month. Fix the issue and get back to me as soon as you can with what's going on so I can moniter any other possible incursions..."
And that was that. The Glasswalker didn't seem entirely caring of their mode of transport or direction. He simply needed it done and it meant no more boring guardian duty as a superfluous unit to the Caern's true Protectors. The area in question was barely a thirty minute walk on human legs.
[Fire Claws] A call to duty was something that all Garou must abide when they are asked by the Warders. It was an honor to ensure the safety of the caern, not to the wyrm was constantly knocking at the Sept's door and any chance to knock back was a welcome change. That and Fire Claws felt this was probably the best chance to test his little ward. A mission handed down to them on something umbral would make the little teenage girl learn in the heat of battle. The only proper way for any Get to learn is in the forge of war.
Fire Claws dragged Gwen along for the ride on this one, listening to what Webrunner had to say. Debating what was needed for this mission to work.
[Stormbreaker] Mila's dark hair was pulled back into a low poney tail. A pair of sunglasses were perched atop of head. Arms were crossed across her chest as she listened to the Guardian lay out the mission. It was up to them to determine a plan.
Oddly hued green flicked across the faces of those gathered. There was only one she'd recognized and that was from a meeting over a year ago. It seemed Chicago's Sept was changing and growing every day. It wasn't a bad development, but this might have been an easier task if it were with people who's skills she knew and trusted.
"Right then - we'll go take a look. The only question is, ya'll want to slip Umbral here, or get down there.. see what things look like realm side before we pop over to clean it up?"
[Kalaratri] In her human skin, Asha is a black-eyed, sharply formed girl, not yet eighteen years old, with a certain slightness that never crosses into delicacy - in only because of her physical confidence, because of the spark of rage underneath her skin. The way she moves, as sure of her body, of its rightness, its rectitude, its power as most people are of the shape of their hands, the unconscious space they take up in the world.
She wears fine things, though not particularly fashionable. Not in the Caern, and rarely elsewhere. When she gathers with the others, her hands are already blooded - gloved in blood, the strong smell of iron in the air around her from some half-finished sacrifice to an oak-bound storm-bound god. She wipes them steadily on her fitted black jeans, getting only a sport, maybe two, on the cuffs of her white oxford blouse.
Her hair is loose; it looks like someone curled it today because it masses around her face and shoulders like some movie star's deceptively casual mane.
"We go over here," she returns, a steady look at Stormbender, a glance toward Fire Claws and Gwen. There's a British lilt to her voice; something softer, too - some internal exotic dissonance. "Gauntlet's softer. We can run in lupus, peek if we need to peek from there."
[Gwen Sullivan] Gwen and Fire Claws spent plenty of time in the Caern and it's Bawn. It was a good place for a cub to learn-- safe and protected with a thin Gauntlet and no prying eyes or straining ears to document Shifting, Learning, or Punishing. It was here that they worked, out in the Woods that things were more relaxed. There they would hunt, there Gwen felt like she could speak a little more freely with her mentor, asking honest questions without fear of his ire at her ignorance or not catching on fast enough to a lesson.
Today was a Work Day. Gwen and Fire Claws had been here for some time, bundled up in winter clothes and fighting the chill, going over intricacies of the Law and how it applied to those that were not True Born Garou. The interruption, the summoning by Webrunner in passing, wasn't necessarily unwelcome but it wasn't openly rejoiced either. Fire Claws saw it as an opportunity for hands-on learning and jumped aboard, seizing Gwen by her arm and literally hauling her along with until he was confident that her feet matched his and she wouldn't try to dawdle or shirk duties.
Not that she would anyways. They gather as a group, and Gwen stays within a few feet of Fire Claws's side while listening, hands in her heavy black coat pockets, hat tugged over her head to keep her ears warm. She didn't entirely understand the idea of an obstruction of Umbral traffic, so she didn't really say much as far as suggesting plans. She was busy visualizing what this 'blockage' could be made of.
[Erek Skulason] *Call of duty, it is a concept he was growing accustomed to. The young Get of Fenris would be found prowling the bawn when the Gaffling had found him, and the order came through for assistance. Whether his brand of skill would be put any use or not, he accepted the call and showed, being an able body was just as good as any. It would be a learning experience for Erek*
Hmm...
*The pitch of his voice cracks slightly, forcing him to clear his throat several times before speaking. Shaggy blond hair swept across his brow, blue eyes taking in the scene around him as he pulled up to the meeting place, the young Get of Fenris glancing around with curious eyes. His viking's blood pounding heavily in his veins and his appearance as he wore the face of a Get that had died gloriously in battle, and became reborn as him*
[Stormbreaker] "I would agree." Stormbreaker responds.
"Does anyone know the area in which this blockage is particularly well? Someone who knows the ins and outs of the area, both umbral and not?" If she had to take a guess, Asha did not - the area seemed a little too dirty for the likes of the Fang, but no doubt she'd be useful in other ways.
The others, she did not know - perhaps they would offer some insight into the area.
[Fire Claws] He hated the bitter cold of winter in this city. Each day seemed worse than the last and there was no comfort in this monkey skin. No fur to protect from the heat, no den to call one's own, nothing but cement and concrete.
"I 'gree wit Silver Fang, easia to cross 'ere. Wolf form good for scoutin, runnin, 'untin."
He looks at Gwen once more to size up the monkey girl. Her spiritual capability was a little lacking and trying to cross would only cause some sort of problem if she did it in the middle of the Green.
"Area close to Jarl's territory. Dangerous."
[Erek Skulason] *Erek rolls his tongue inside his mouth, from left to right and back again, arching blond eyebrows as he listens to the other Garou. He doesn't have a thin to offer as this wasn't exactly his territory and he didn't know all her secrets just yet*
[Gwen Sullivan] Fire Claws was concerned about Gwen's ability to push through the Gauntlet. If she was thinking of that aspect of the Umbra-- the getting there-- she'd be worried too. Rather she's concerning herself with what she's going to find when they do arrive and how to cope with it then. Imagining situation after situation, working through probable solutions for them as she went.
This made her look almost senseless-- because her mind wasn't so much in the conversation as ahead of it. It made her all the more forgettable that she didn't open her mouth, but just stood quiet and thoughtful, hands in her pockets and expression blank. The most her face moved was so she could tongue idly at the back of the crystal stud in the cleft of her upper lip.
[Kalaratri] "No." Stormbreaker's assumption was correct. The blood (mostly) wiped from her hands now stiffens her jeans, but the black fabric hides the stain except for the stiffness. She crosses her arms then, turning to look at Fire Claw, Gwen, and Erek each in turn. She's calmer now. The moon's waning; her rage is softer inside her chest. It gives her room to think; to breathe inside her body.
When Fire Claws speaks up, Asha nods. Her mane of black hair is a soft contrast to the stiffness of her well-starched collar. The white shirt is menswear - an Oxford - all straight lines, and the intimation of her body underneath is boyish rather than feminine except in the details - the just of a fine-boned wrist, the long fingers, the well-made hands, the subtle softness of her torso.
"I'm k&+257;lar&+257;tri, daughter of Vision of the Fall, great-great-great granddaughter of Svatantrya and descendant of the Maharaja Bahadur, the Great Prince of Princes, House Blood Red Crest, cliath Ahroun, member of the Unbroken," she gives a brief, shark-bright smile. "That's the short version, because my herald isn't here."
She glances at Fire Claws. "If you know the territory, we'll follow you there. If it comes to a battle, though - " a quicksilver sort of grin, all bright, " - take my lead."
Asha waits for other replies, introductions, the like - then pushes across the gauntlet, a certain native eagerness around alive underneath her skin.
[Kalaratri] (**descendant of the Descendant of the Maharajadhiraja Bahadur.)
[Stormbreaker] Soo.. none of them really knew the area. Fire-Claw's assesment only included it was 'dangerous' and near 'the Jarl's territory.' That was.. super helpful. But, even if he kinda knew where they were going, they'd follow him.
The female Lord just nodded slightly, and waited for Asha's introduction to conclude prior to her speaking up agian.
"It sounds like we sort of have a plan then. Let's try to keep this whole thing on the DL though, right? Nice and calm.. like we're there for business and then let's get the H out and come back home.."
"Oh.. and for those of you who don't know, I'm Stormbreaker. Cliath, Galliard. Grandchild of Thunder and Alpha of Darksky."
[Fire Claws] He turned between several of the gathered, each seemingly coming from a long line of heroes. He and his ward were somewhat on the outs when it comes to such things. For him, wolves didn't travel from the old world to the new one that often, not to mention his line was almost purely wolf. As for Gwen, well... she was a lost pup. Not much to go on there.
He waiting a few more moment as the introductions were made. Finally turning to him, he spoke up. His words touched in a southern accent, a horrific butcher of the english language.
"I Fire-Claws, Forseti Cliath and this cub. My ward. Gwen."
His thumb pulled out of the depth of his heavy wool coat to point back at the teenage girl.
"Let go now. Before too late."
[Erek Skulason] *The young Get of Fenris takes a deep breath, cold air filling his lungs as he regards the others in return. Asha being the first to introduce herself, the essence of her breeding and rage confirming everything he hears verbally. He doesn't speak up after her, waits for the others to make the rounds of introductions as he will go last. Clearing his throat, and testing his voice to make sure it doesn't crack*
Erek Skúlason, Spinebreaker to his enemies, a cliath no moon born of the Get of Fenris, nephew to the Skvaldír - Skúli Eriksson "Gutsaw", adren skald, grandson of Thorsteinn~Skull-splitter, died an Athro Modi doing what he loved best, and Brigid "Sif’s~Virtue" Telleny, an elder whom I share moon with.
*His head bobs in a curt nod to each of them*
New to the area, point me in a direction and just let go of leash.
[Attrition] They greet one another with titles and names and an urgency to finish the Duty before them.
The collection of Garou plunge through the umbral landscape of the city, a comfortable distance kept between the various bodies and their 'suspect' relationships. Few of them were truly connected by anything other than the Sept boundaries and even then, it was a passing familiarity defined more by an errant Moot or a Caern duty nod to one another. None of those present were bound by the logic of totem or the system of Comraderie that Death and Constant War usually bred.
Each was still young. Still new. Perhaps that's why the distance between each as they ran through the Night cover and the Pattern work, was something telling. A territorial sign as much as a hallmark of their connection (or lack there of).
The City is beautiful and heart-breaking all at once: crystaline structures jut into the skyline, from their dominant place at the city Centre, while the glitter of frost and snow is a devastating accessory to the permanent gleam of patternwork that makes up the webbed material of the Umbral domain. Structures and buildings, barely decades old are made of some flimsy almost-cloth of cobweb loosely grained to appear as brick or mortar or concrete. Barely the shade of it (varying Grays) makes any comforting sense and does nothing but put the instincts on edge as the Wolf Mind that each carries screams at the 'Inaccuracy' of the City and it's Spirit life.
Nevermind that the world of the Physical is wrong with it's concrete and glass houses and hovels and havens and dens. The Spirit of a City was a sick thing, that could not even keep true to it's falsehoods.
Spirit life watches them pass by, nervous, fearful and secluding enough to keep out of general sight. Winged things on roof top ledges and scurrying things in alleyways and nooks, hurry from the wall of Rage that pushes down streets and around corners, in search of something.
They find it with ease. Not because they are good at what they do (though this much may well be correct) but because it is not hard to miss:
The Weaver.
Her bindings are everywhere, sometimes subtle and sometimes not. Within the spirit, she has no need of the Mortal mind or body or the function of logic and dogmatic bueracracy. She is perfection and the process of and it shows sometimes in maddening clarity and frightening power displays.
The impromptu pack 'rounds a corner onto a side street that borders the hovel of Carbini Green, a well known landscape formerly patrolled by the prestigous Eagles. Alas no more, perhaps this is one of the reasons the Weaver has grown so expansive in the area. The entire street is layered with webwork so thick as to obscure what passes for a sidewalk on either side. Strands of glittering resin transparency creep up the walls of the gray buildings and obscure their bland windows and doors. Long curving, reaching nets and blankets of the glittering material fall from second story rooftop ledges and awnings to join and spread over the middle of the street itself.
All the way down for yards and yards and yards, growing thicker the further in one pushes. The street itself is one of the few that connects to the bustling edges of Lakeview and on into the Downtown core from there.
Quite the blockage.
[Erek Skulason] *The city is unfamiliar territory for a boy that is used to the dark swell of bark and pine, the feel of grass or wet earth under his paws or feet. It was alien to his senses, causing a low growl to rumble from his vocal cords in response to it. His eyes wander around, trying to take everything in at once, muscles tensing in the lean musculature of his form at the slightest of shadow play that dance just beyond his peripheral vision. The young Get of Fenris is quiet during the journey to their final destination, bringing up the rear why he follows the more experienced patrons of Chicago's Garou*
[Stormbreaker] Mila's wolf form was that of a rather large, completely black wolf. The only thing that really stood out were her eyes. Her pace slowed as the blockage was revield before them.
She approached it with caution, and even sniffed it some. An infestation of this level.. she'd never before encountered. Mmm.. what she wouldn't give to have a GW along. Perhaps her own Theurge would be useful this area.. too bad he wasn't around today.
"Thoughts?" The wolf spoke. Frankly, she didn't expect much.. this crew was a little quiet, but it was worth the effort to ask.
[Fire Claws] It was a quick jump from the physical to the umbral at the caern, quicker for some. And in a quick shift he was once again in his birth form, the grey fur mixed at his face and part of his under belly with black and red splashes of color.
He would wait for the rest to cross and shift if they so wished to do so. He, however, was most comfortable in his birth form, hunting and training his ward as well. And once they were in the umbra and moving towards the Green, he moved deftly on sure paws. He waited every now and again for those not to sure of where they were going, or unsure of how well to run in the wolf form or what not.
His eyes focused on the level of Weaver here, nearly snarling at the amount of spider-bitch webbing. This was what the city was all about, levels and levels of weaver taint. But not this much, this was a mess of spider taint. Sniffing for any signs of weaver spirits around, or better yet spirits that were not weaver.
[Stormbreaker] {Intel + Enigmas}
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 2, 2, 4, 10 (Success x 1 at target 7)
[Kalaratri] Asha is silent on the run. In stark contrast to her black-eyed, black-haired, bronzed-skinned human self, she is a shimmering vision of Luna's grace in lupus, under the waning moon, amidst the snows. Pale fur - nearly white - glistening beneath the shimmer of silver guard hairs. The few darker markings on her coat have the same silver gleam under any light - the silver shine of the waning moon, or the electric blue glow of the weaver's webs.
They run; she's a bright thing, pacing beside them, her tail high and alert, ears swiveling as they move. There's joy in her; eagerness under her skin, her rage and breeding a coruscating corona around her. That brightness - curdles as they dive deeper into the web-covered regions until they find, at last, the "blockage" they were sent to investigator. She wuffs out a deep, suspicious breath, all the fine hairs stark, clearly on edge.
There is the brief flare of - gnosis - from the Silver Fang, enough to bolster their spirits, solidify their collective will in the face of such taint.
Then she paces forward, snapping sharply at the webbed strands around her, the chokepoint of weaver taint, studying -
[Kalaratri] [ -1 Gnosis - Inspiration. FYI.]
[Kalaratri] Intelligence + Leadership
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 3, 5, 7, 8 (Success x 2 at target 6)
to Attrition
[Fire Claws] [-1G Heightened Senses Active. FYI]
[Attrition] The extent of the Weaver's influence here has been somewhat severe, even excessive. The volume of pattern web is extensive, but the layout of the location is worthy of notice if only because of the stark disadvantage the Garou find themselves at ground level, surrounded by so much of the webwork while the upper ledges of the rooftops remain relatively free. The low ground is especially dangerous in this moment with relative strangers at her back and the street having been narrowed by the tall and slanted blankets and strands of weaver working.
There is also a distinct lack of spiritual presence here. Spider, Geomid or otherwise. A silence hangs that is at once telling as it is disturbing. This was no blockage.
It was a battlefield...
to Kalaratri
[Stormbreaker] Had she been in homid, the mass would have gotten a lip pursing and a slight head tilt as she tried to figure this out. Instead, the wolf did cock her head to the side slightly as she continued to examine it. Now where were the little buggers that made this?
Weaver stuff just wasn't her specality, neither were spirits.. so all of this was a bit out of her realm of experience.
[Gwen Sullivan] The soft, weak point in the Gauntlet was precisely where they'd stood. That's where they crossed. It was always easiest for Gwen there. It felt like Maelstrom had worn away at the curtain that separated the worlds, like it was gossamer rather than heavy drapes of chain mail. She'd pressed through, caught her breath on the Other Side, and shed her clothes hastily (she still needed dedicated clothing) and replaced nude flesh in the freezing air with a thick and healthy pelt of tawny and white.
She didn't look much like a Get of Fenris, yet she ran along the flank of one as though they'd been together for quite some time. Like it was where she belonged.
The run was nothing. It was finding the massive wall of webs clogging up the street that had Gwen on edge, tentative and unsure. She was stiff legged, her fur bristled at her shoulders and the back of her neck. Her muzzle, predominantly white, crinkled up at the sight, and her nostrils flared to pull in the smell of sterilized air. Her teeth were bared at no one entity, just the situation.
She rumbled her thoughts in her throat and chest, when requested by the black-furred female. Communicating as effectively as she could without English. "Nest?" The flavor of the voice was disdain, disgust, and honest hope that her musing was wrong. She really didn't want this thing to be like a real spider's web, she didn't want the thick center to explode in a shower of god-knows-what.
[Kalaratri] "Battlefield." The Silver Fang corrects, with a deep wuff and a sharp shake of her silver ruff. She had edged forward when they arrived, but now she backtracks, swinging a long, bright (-ice blue-) eyed look at the pair of Fenrir, the Shadow Lord, the cub. "No spiders. Danger here. Easy trap. We need high ground."
And, so saying she begins to back away from the tangle into which she had pushed, snapping at any filaments that cling to her bright fur, shaking herself free as she looks for a way up to the rooftops.
[Gwen Sullivan] [Perception + Alertness]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 3, 3, 3, 5, 5, 6 (Failure at target 6)
[Erek Skulason] *The young Get of Fenris appears massive and grey, like the timber wolves found in the icy north. He flicks an ear, the blue of his eyes replaced by the rich honey-amber of his species. He blinks, chuffing at the webbing and flicking an ear as he listens to the Silver Fang, his tail sliding along his back legs in a small wave*
[Stormbreaker] Any input from the others was good. Thus, the Lord was going to follow the Fang's lead at the moment. She carefully backed herself away from the webbing and began to look skyward for a nice, clean place to climb to obtain the highground that was suggested.
[Attrition] ...The nearest location for accessibility to the rooftops would have to be one of the buildings behind them, where the street remains thinned of Weaver webwork. The distance from the unaffected buildings behind to those touched with weaver presence is negligible for a Crinos or Hispo leap and would barely give a Lupus form difficulty.
The surrounding Roof tops are open and expand on the cityscape and Cabrini Green's rather malevolent presence. Buildings here are squat and recede into the neighbourhood with a clustered, even quiet repulsion that seems to instinctively suggest 'Go away'. Yet the way before them, alongside that Weaver mess seems to provide no small amount of warning, even threat. Carbini's umbral expanse, displeasing as it might be, has come under attack by the Weaver's own designs.
Comply or fall.
From the Roof vantage, the Garou can recognize the stretch of the Weaver 'Bombing' down that single street for no less than three blocks. Almost as if it had been flooded, by a rapid presence of the Maker's minions.
[Fire Claws] ~WS~ "No spiders. Hive like. A mixture of energies. Spiritual energies. Inactive spirits, sleeping maybe. Very dangerous."
When Kalaratri mentions the danger that lays ahead of them, there was no pathway deeper in from this way. But to go to the rooftops would allow them to be trapped should whatever it is sneak around them. Something he didn't mind himself, but his ward was still green.
~WS~ "Follow."
Spoken to Gwen, nothing better than trial by fire as it were.
[Erek Skulason] *Erek tilts his head to the side, swiveling his ears back and then forward, tilting his head up to survey the skyline. He watches the outcropping of the buildings, trying to gauge for himself it'd be easy to climb. The Silver Fang mentions for them to go to higher ground, he blinks, and snorts softly, following the others as they go up*
[Kalaratri] They have to climb; she shifts to her crinos, then glabro forms, clawing her way up the side of a building, pulling down some ghostly memory of a fireescape, leaping from ledge to ledge. The point is, they climb. At the top of the building, their perspective changes. Asha hulks forward, cro-magnon now, and turns a skimming circle around the rooftop, surveying the obvious wreckage of the battlefield.
Then shift; four-pawed again, a direwolf now, nothing slight about here. There's just the gleam of breeding, the utter confidence of madness or purpose that ghosts around her like a halo.
"Sleeping." The beast growls in roughened high-tongue to Fire Claws, swinging her great head back to study him. "Slumber?" A huff, a concept half-remembered from some long-dead theurge. Or maybe just her father. "Unmaker and Maker fight. Stalemate, spirits fall to slumber?"
Her bright gaze flickers between the others, the no-moon and half-moon fenrir, the gibbous shadow lord, the cub without a Name beyond her human one.
She begins to pick her way over the rooftops, looking for breaks, weak points, inclusions in the web.
[Erek Skulason] Perception + alertness
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 5, 6, 8 (Success x 2 at target 5)
[Stormbreaker] The roof seemed like a logical staging point. A now Hispo (post Crinos after the climb) Stormbreaker assessed the situation from the new vantage point.
Maybe they needed a song about this? Yeah, that she could do. If there was something tangable to kill? Hell yeah, she'd tear that stuff up. But this? Good lord, she just had no clue as to what to do.
"Where's a good Theurge when you need one?" It was more a muttering to herself than to any of those gathered.
"How do we.. undo this without waking them? There has to be a way.."
[Kalaratri] Per + Enigmas!
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 4, 4, 7 (Failure at target 6)
to Attrition
[Gwen Sullivan] 'Follow,' the mentor commands. Up onto the rooftops. Gwen doesn't argue the strategy, it made fine sense to her. She followed, shaking thin flyaway strands from the mess they'd walked into out of her pelt and stepping a little awkwardly as she went. She wasn't the most graceful thing.. as Fire Claws knew, she was still young, still inexperienced, still 'green'.
She'd wait for the Foresti to move first, watch where his feet go and how he makes his way up, and mimics his moves. This is only after casting a glance over toward the other Fenrir, the Rotagar that went by Spinebreaker, and watching him for a second. The dark brown eyes were made all the darker by the white splash of fur across her face and up to her ears, gave a brief hello. A more personal, formal greeting could come later.
For now, though, she climbed and followed, keeping pace with the rest.
[Fire Claws] (Perception+Engima, diff 5 for Heigtened Sense)
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 2, 6, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 4 at target 5)
[Gwen Sullivan] [Perception + Enigmas]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 2, 4, 5, 9 (Failure at target 6)
[Erek Skulason] perception + engimas
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 1, 5, 10 (Failure at target 6)
[Erek Skulason] *Again, the young Get of Fenris brings up the rear to the others, not straying behind, but slow enough to keep an tabs on their rears in case something decided to sneak up on them. He is well-acquainted with the arts of shadowing prey. His attention is diverted, however, when they have reached higher ground and there is stable footing under his large massive paws. His ears twitch, constantly rotation back and forth, until they finally erect upright, perked to whatever has snared his attention. He doesn't quite ... hear it. Nor feel the thing that begins to bother him. In the distance, something lies in the far ahead of them. Instinct and senses seem to suggest it is quite a ways off, but it is much like wandering onto another Wolf's Territory and suddenly being alerted to the same fact. Not exactly but it's the closet sensation he has to what he is sensing*
...something.. in distance... feel it. Like go into another's territory
[Fire Claws] His eyes search over the webbing as the assault from the Weaver seems to have taken over the Cabrini's Western edge. Whatever it was that has taken over this area was nothing to scuff at either. He wuffs to his ward first and foremost. Teaching her still.
~WS~ "Look. Scrags. Wyrmhounds. Within webwork. Creature must be very powerful to do this. Get wyrm altogether. Trap them."
He looks to the others who have begun taking up more aggressive forms, ready for a fight it seemed.
[Kalaratri] Asha pads toward the edge of the rooftop and looks as Fire Claws directs Gwen to look; her great head swings in a moving line, a low snarl building up in the back of her throat, a bright point of it. Weaver laying claim? she returns to Erek, a whine of question in her lupine throat. Then turns and follows the path Fire Claws has directed his ward to follow.
She huffs. Free Wyrm as we tear up webs. We run through [chaos], clear blockage. Weaver-wolf sees prey escaping, not wolves-assaulting.
The plan, such as it is, is the best she has.
[Gwen Sullivan] Gwen's senses were usually sharper than even those of a seasoned Garou, parallel to the most vied after scouts. Yet tonight, for some reason, they failed her time and time again. Her eyes weren't as sharp, her hearing muted, perhaps by her ears refusing to adjust to the Umbra after transitioning through the Gauntlet. Her nose wasn't as keen, as practiced. Everything smelled sterile, she didn't know what to hunt for.
Fire-Claws helped out, explained what he saw, and she squinted to recognize as well. Most of these monsters she hadn't seen up close before, most were manifestations of man rather than entirely spiritual entities. She's wrinkling her snout up some, sticking close to Fire Claws, who did a fine job of dwarfing her even though she was an incredibly average sized female specimen, not too scrawny or petite in any way.
Suggestions are thrown out, and Gwen offers one of her own, ears flicking forward while she studied the block, sniffed at the webs that strayed up to the roofs.
Fire. Don't want the Wyrm free.
[Stormbreaker] "Fire would be a good plan.. if we could make it. Otherwise, we could slowly clear the blockage and kill the wyrm spirits one by one?"
It wasn't a good plan, it was just what she could come up with.
[Erek Skulason] don't know what it is, something out there.
*Erek snorts to Kalartatri, unsure of what could be out there. He listens to Gwen's suggestion of just burning the shit down, twisting his head to look at the webbing that held the wyrm creatures captive, thinking*
[Attrition] The air seems to charge slightly. A vague electric clatter that seems to live underneath the nerves. Licking a battery or the static gathering under fingernails. Each of them can feel it now, what Erek picked up moments before. It seems to be localizing from the West, where the Downtown skyscrapers make their home, glass and steel giants here within the Reflection.
The Webwork below them is still, the spiritual 'bodies' within trapped and slumbering, quiet and unaware of what approaches. The Blockage stands within one of the umbral pathways, an arterial measure clotted by the Weaver's minions. The Wyrm has been drastically reduced by this singular strike and one has to consider just how bad a thing that is, despite Webrunner's predictions.
Still yet, is it better to allow the Weaver to win in this matter as well? Is this the measure of how the City should be run? Lesser evils in circumstance? Situational Compromise?
Whatever is coming, is growing closer. Not yet visible, but definitely a presence within the wolf senses now.
[Kalaratri] I have no fire. The Silver Fang asserts, with a great shake of her head. Then, a swinging look at Stormbreaker. If we break up little by little, we wake that-which-caught-them. The last has the feeling of a title. The big thing in the distance, whatever claimed this territory. She wuffs quietly again, a look toward Fire Claws and the cub, next.
We have two enemies. Weaver. Wyrm. They fight each other to this. We push them against each other. Free Wyrm in midst of Weaver's web. Break more; stand at the end of street. Harry Wyrm that escapes into Weaver's maw.
[i]Static like this kills Caern. Devours, like spider - insects, sacs. No Moon and Shadow Lord run up flanks, breaking webs. Retreat before Weaver-beast comes. Fenrir and cub with me at entrance; fight whatever Wyrm escapes, send rest back into webs.
[Fire Claws] He continued to watch the webbing as the wyrm seemed to walk around and look for an escape from the trap that was created for them. Whatever the Weaver had unleashed was probably still around, watching its prey. But why did it leave them alive? Why not just kill them outright?
~WS~ "Fire work, but wound spiritual essence. City here may get worse. If it can. Test Silver Fang idea. Rip up some weaver, unleash weaker wyrm. If Weaver still fight us, we must protect us. If hunt wyrm, we continue."
[Erek Skulason] aight.
*Erek chuffs out in agreement to Kalaratri's plan, stepping away to move to the Shadow Lord's side, giving her a look over and waits*
[Stormbreaker] "Alright. I'm willing to give anything a try at this point."
[Gwen Sullivan] She didn't disagree with the plan-- the point that they didn't have fire was a good one. She couldn't summon it, nor negotiate with what little embers that could be found like she knew Linus could. She'd watched him talk a single spirit of electricity into a several square block blackout, he'd stood with his back to flames while they licked dangerously close to his body but let him be, focused instead on the food to be found in the building it was burning down.
Pegging one enemy against the other wasn't a bad thought, but she had to wonder...
...Why tear down wall at all? Why not let Wyrm concentrate in one area, be free on other side? Would make finding, killing, keeping track of easier.
[Stormbreaker] {Per + Alert }
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 5, 6, 6, 7, 7, 9 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[Kalaratri] Dex + Enigmas
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 6, 7, 7, 8, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 4 at target 8) [WP]
[Gwen Sullivan] [Wits + Leadership]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 5, 5, 5, 8, 9 (Success x 2 at target 7)
[Erek Skulason] Dex + enigmas?
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 2, 3, 3, 3, 4, 8, 9 (Success x 3 at target 8) [WP]
[Fire Claws] (Dex+Enigma)
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 8, 9, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 4 at target 8)
[Kalaratri] The Silver Fang sweeps a look at the cub, pins her with a bright-eyed glance, something like approval. Leave webs intact here - she returns, as cub says - a wall. Pull up deeper in.
Then, a sharp and sudden revelation. Webs here are trap! she all but barks. Tooth and claw stick; pull you in. Lift them with human hands.
Already, she's melting into her humanskin; slight again - neither small nor delicate, but finely formed. She stands at the precipitous edge of the rooftop, the umbra wind sends her hair fluttering around her, dark after the brightness. And she sinks to her haunches, then down to one knee, a glance back at the others as she reaches out to lift -
[Stormbreaker] She had to wonder; wouldn't the weaver come to clean this up in some sort of short notice? Especially if it was set by them.. you'd think they'd come back to check the traps and dispose of what it was caught. Well, that was at least her logic. If she set a mouse trap, she'd sure as hell come back to check it. Perhaps that was what the rumbling in the distance was?
The next step was clear enough to her: Eliminate what was left alive in the traps.
The Fang explained what could be caught by the traps.. and her words are heeded. The female Lord shifts, in no particular hurry back into her human skin as well. An arm raises in a bit of a strech - it was nice to be back in the form she was most comfortable with.
"Wait. The weaver set this trap to catch, and then kill the wyrm spirits. They've been caught.. I think the best course of action is now to kill them.. and then we can get rid of the webbing.."
[Erek Skulason] *The young Get of Fenris' body snaps out of its four-legged furry form at the sudden snap of the Silver Fang's revelation. His body doesn't drop into its human guise, but instead erects itself to that in-between state of human and crinos, making the boy appear more like a hairy, toothier version of himself that stood a good foot taller, and muscular than before. Despite the feral visage that twists over Erek's face, his glabro form seems to retain much of its humanity, making it possible for him to pass for human than some kind of half-monster*
It is a trap...
*His voice is guttural and deep, more growling with its pronunciation. His left ear twitches, the soft down of grey fur tufts cover his elbows and along his forearms in silken hairs, also racing down his chin and along the jawline. He grunts, squinting blue eyes that borderline that amber hue of his lupine form. The webwork was a trap for a reason. A trap for minions of the Wyrm who might fight and war with it as much as possible to be free, thus furthering miring themselves within the webs the harder they fought. Applying that same anger to the Webwork would inevitably cause the Garou the same problems in attempting to cut it apart with physical claws and teeth.
Add in the factor of the approaching enemy, steadily shaving off seconds and minutes of their time, and the Rotagar mind says...there isn't enough time to do this. Not with the thing approaching...unless...of course it was detoured, if only briefly*
We don't have time for this! Whatever comes, comes quickly. You better hurry the fuck up if you intend to do something.
[Fire Claws] He looks at the teeth and claws of large wyrmhounds stuck within the webbing. The brute force of the Wyrm surrounded and trapped within the web of the weaver. Kalaratri~yuf makes the same connection he makes as he watches the silky webs in the Umbra wind.
~WS~ "Leave this and Weaver stronger. Choke off Gaia. Weaken Caern, weaken our connection to spirits. We don't kill Wyrm. Ever watch old beaver dam. Unkept. If webbings rip away as wyrm gather up more, tidal wave of wyrm at caern doorstep."
He watches as the Silver Fang starts to lift away webbing. It was the only real thing they could work on at the time.
[Gwen Sullivan] They stay up at the rooftops, even though Gwen was under the impression that she, Kalaratri and Fire Claws should be down on the ground somewhere, waiting for the Wyrmlings to go for their only way out, picking them off as the stragglers made their way past the thrumming, electric something that was bearing closer and closer.
Gwen whuffed quietly, growled to show anxiousness. She paced along the roof's edge, looking down, still trying to make out the shapes that Fire Claws had assured here were there. As she does, she flicks her brushy tail back and forth and sniffs at the air.
Erek's snapping that they don't have enough time, and bodies shift to bring back human flesh and fingertips. Gwen stays, unsure, growling, looking down.
Will it be trapped in its own web? Should we wait?
[Attrition] ...And the electric sensation under the skin begins to gather more strength, setting nerves on edge and raising the hairs on the neck instinctively.
In the distance, the thrum of something. Repeated and heavy.
[Kalaratri] Without another word, Asha reaches down, grabs the webs, and lifts.
[Fire Claws] He starts to shift, not so easily as Kalaratri~yuf did. He was not born human, but he needed to shift to the monkey skin, or at least the near-monkey skin. Leave some sort of comfort of hair or fur a reminder of his wolf self.
He snarls as he slowly starts to shift, pushing to his Glabro form. Muscle and bone shifted around, fur shrinking and disappearing. Calling to his ward. Gutteral and butchered.
"Stay be'ind. If needed I call. Clean up wha' gets throug'."
[Erek Skulason] We still won't have time. We need a diversion to distract the thing that's coming.
*Erek looks at the others, already starting to step away from the Shadow Lord's side as Asha begins to reach down and grab at the webbing. He looks away, towards the outlining edge of rooftops where the webbing was attached*
I'm going to buy us some time.
*He is already off, moving along the webbing away from the group towards the electrical current, tapping the webbing wherever he goes to draw the thing's attention*
[Gwen Sullivan] Gwen didn't like the situation, it set her on edge. There was too much uncertainty, they were barreling in-- but what choice did they have? The thing that had her fur standing up and her teeth itching and head aching was coming closer and closer. It felt huge, intimidating, impossible to defeat with claws and teeth. This demanded strategy and intellect, experience and cooperation. Gwen was a cub. She lacked in too many areas to be of much use. Her nose and ears were failing her tonight, and while she'd deduced that the only safe way to handle the manipulation of this web was from above, she'd presumed that common knowledge. No one was eager to jump to the floor. It was safer up here, out of reach (hopefully), watching and determining next steps based on what came next.
Fire-Claws told her to hang back, and she did. The one without a proper Name, born of two-legs, walking on four for less than half a year, was the one to stay on four legs, with paws and teeth and claws. She paced several yards behind the backs of those unhinging the edges of the webs, careful to use the soft pads of human fingers and thumbs rather than running the risk of entanglement with lethal tooth and claw.
She rumbled, paced, whined quietly and seldomly, and waited to see what came next.
[Erek Skulason] Extended roll 1, dex + brawl
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 2, 4, 5, 5, 6, 6, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 3 at target 7)
[Erek Skulason] Extended roll 2, dex + brawl
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 3, 4, 4, 7, 8, 9 (Success x 1 at target 7)
[Stormbreaker] Mila silently prayed that this was going to work. Did she think it was the best plan? Not really. But she was smart enough to realize that sometimes, she didn't have the right ideas and sometimes, it was best to step out of one's comfort zone and follow another.
Thus, deft human fingers lifted the web along with the others.
[Erek Skulason] extended roll 3, dex + brawl
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 1, 4, 6, 6, 7, 8, 8, 9, 9 (Success x 4 at target 7)
[Fire Claws] (Straight Strength)
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 1, 4, 4, 8 (Failure at target 7)
[Stormbreaker] {Oooh Strength! Gooo Homid Mila!}
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 1, 5 (Botch x 1 at target 7)
[Kalaratri] (Heave-ho!)
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 3, 5, 7, 7, 9, 9 (Success x 5 at target 6) [WP]
[Kalaratri] YOU CAN DO THIS WEE FANG-GIRL.
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 8, 8, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Fire Claws] (Strength again, wp ftw)
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 4, 6, 7, 7, 8 (Success x 4 at target 7) [WP]
[Stormbreaker] {Try harder!}
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 7, 10 (Success x 2 at target 7)
[Attrition] With no Totem bond to keep them within one another's mindsets and instinctual patterns, the Garou take time to co-ordinate. Almost enough time to call it quits but in the end, Silver Fang Breeding and accumulative certainty bend them to the webwork with reaching hands and snarling grunts. This needed to be done. It could be-
-The Rotagar is insistent. They don't have enough time. Not nearly enough. Without another word, he turns and goes rushing down the length of the rooftops, hands snapping out to shake and slap at the webwork. It doesn't manage to snag him on his run, but the sensitive flutter of the Pattern still works much like a Spider's own cobweb. Sensitive and alarming.
Whatever was rushing their position seems to halt briefly, an instinctual shiver dropping down the spines of all those present even as they surge and grunt with the effort of pulling at the web between buildings.
...And Erek suddenly skids to a halt a good three buildings down from the rest of the Collective. Not because it's done but because he is out of space to run forward:
It Clambers through the webwork like some surfacing whale; a monstrosity of hard metal plates, black and gleaming that stretch out over the broad and bulbous shape of a giant Tarantula. Long fibre optic cabling juts out like tines and glowing hackles across the plating itself, while the underbelly is nothing more than the bent and shapely curvature of copper and steel wiring fluttering with arcs of electricity.
The Eyes are a dozen blazing red lenses, over the chattering movement of whirling needles and slender circular saws, that dance on the tips of over a hundred long finger instrumental arms where the mandibles would normally be on a spider.
Those slender legs, tipped with razor fine claws, reach through the webwork and the Monstrous creation orients on Erek scaling through the webwork toward the building's edge, even as the Rotagar comes to a halt.
...And the others pull and with one last surge of strength, tear up the moorings of the webwork along the roof's edge. It sends a wave of lassitude through the lower reaches of the Trap, dumping bodies down into a tangled mass of wakefulness on the streets below. Wyrm spirits suddenly come to life, gnashing and snapping as the static trap is disturbed. Webs begin to constrict anew and the sharp bellows and howls of Scrags and Wyrmhounds erupt into the air between the buildings.
...Erek is spared the Monstrosity's attention as it swivels in place to regard the sudden 'flaw' in it's Trap. Smooth and precise, it begins to scale across the webwork and the side of the buildings, several plates on it's back shifting aside to reveal the flickering presence of a many cabled cannon emerging along it's back, the tip of which sparks and spits with a liquid blue flame before a rather broad nozzle.
[Kalaratri] "Come on! - " says Asha, with a low shout. The webs are upended and she's already in motion, running to take the distance between umbral buildings with a flying leap, rageshifting to hispo as she leaves the roof. The buildings are close here, easy to leap in warform, and so she does not - not waiting to see where the monstrous spider aims its cannon, not waiting to see how the freed wyrmlings might start to swarm it. She's moving, itching to attack but stirred on by other memories, fired by other hands.
This is how she runs: a streak of silver in the dull gray umbral twilight, hitting roof after roof until she has found a position behind the spider, distracted by the flaw in its trap, by the whole in its carefully calibrated webs. When she has reached a position well enough behind it, she shifts again, more carefully this time, and shifts to Glabro.
The others have followed, or they haven't. It doesn't matter. She's reaching to concentrate, pulling on memories as she moves.
[Kalaratri] Ancestors -> CRAFTS.
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 3, 8 (Success x 2 at target 8) [WP]
to Attrition
[Erek Skulason] *Adrenaline runs the coarse of his veins, blood pounding wildly in his ears to a deafening roar that he barely register any sound except the loud drum of his heartbeat thudding a million miles a second inside his chest. It feels like it is ready to explode out of his ribcage. He is athletic to a default, perceptive enough with hand-to-eye coordination to make each target as he slaps the webbing, sending spams upon spams ricocheting through the web design. Much like it's insect counterpart, the Mechanical monstrosity falls for his diversion*
Ah, fuck!
*Hot air explodes from his mouth and nose in a hoarse grumble as he skids to a stop when he runs out of room to run further. He stands, legs braced to the width of his shoulders, head thrown back as shaggy tufts of blond hair slick along his forehead with sweat. He watches the Spider with a fierce awe flashing in his eyes, not backing down as Its attention is quickly diverted to the chaos sparked behind him. Asha becomes an elegant blur of grey mist in Erek's peripheral, shooting off like a bullet towards another crop of buildings. He twists his frame, pivoting on his boots to turn away from the Spider and the Wyrmlings, watching where the Silver Fang stops.
A raised eyebrow is garnered in her direction, but if the others are following, the young Get of Fenris moves quickly to reach her side*
[Stormbreaker] The full moon moved - Mila had been watching her out of the corner of her eye.. and as soon as she moved, so did the Galliard. She'd learned to trust -her- full moon with her life and well, tonight she was going to trust -this- full moon. Asha took off. Mila followed, snap shifting forms as needed to make the jump.. and then to prepare for removing more of the webbing.
To be honest.. the Lord had never seen the weaver like this before. Usually, it was just the monstrosities of the wyrm that she encountered.. but this, was something else all together. It did give her pause for a moment - once she was safely on the other building.
[Kalaratri] Asha: Str + Crafts - this time with the aid of insane ancestors!
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 4, 4, 4, 6, 6, 7, 8, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[Fire Claws] With the approach of the creature he knows that this will be nothing worse than a blood bath. He instinctually calls upon his ability to resist pain as he sees the monster of the weaver. He fells the rage boil on under him, calling to battle. But as the webs come undone, he watches the Silver Fang run to get behind the distrusting spider creature, looking to uproot more webs.
Quickly his body rageshifts to his hispo form. And watches as the creature becomes distracted. He barks quick orders to his ward.
~HT~ "Follow her. Help."
He looks between the spider thing and the building across from him. Looking to Jump to the next building. Leaping across.
(-1WP Resist Pain Active)
[Stormbreaker] {This time..: A more helpful form!}
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 3, 5, 8, 10 (Success x 2 at target 7)
[Erek Skulason] *Erek moves upward from glabro to crinos, using the heavier form for its strength to make the leaps across the buildings easier for him. His large frame a silvery brown blur across the buildings as he comes up onto Asha's side and using his claws and crinos strength to help tear at the webs*
(-1 rage for shift to Crinos, -1 willpower for resist pain)
[Erek Skulason] Extended roll, pure strength
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 7, 9, 9, 9 (Success x 4 at target 7) [WP]
[Gwen Sullivan] The thing that they'd felt coming for a while now emerges, and Gwen's pacing comes to a stand still. She's rigid, stiff-legged and staring hard at what she sees, as though she can't entirely believe her own eyes. It's either stand and stare or bark and yap and run up and down the roof like a dog that sees a cat on the other side of the fence.
Things occur quickly. With an effort the group manages to tug the strands enough to shake loose some Wyrm creatures below. They bellow and howl and snarl and froth, and the Spider moves to correct this, to kill or wrap snares about these creatures once more. No sooner does its back turn that they are hurdling over rooftops, up the street, to try and surround it. Confused it. Busy it up. Make it bring down its own creation.
A barked order is thrown back toward her, and Gwen jerks her head, no longer watching the spider but looking after those that hurdle from rooftop to rooftop. She follows, she manages to keep up well enough. She scrabbles to a stop, claws changing to something more blunt, thick, and yellow as she pushes into Glabro-- something without real claws, that won't get caught in the webs. That's the last place she wanted to be.
She takes up space between Asha and Erek, utterly nude and atrocious to view in such a state while swollen with muscle, broad sturdy bones, and a fuzz of tawny fur lining most of the lines of her body.
But hey, who's she impressing right now?
[Strength + Crafts]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 2, 4, 6, 7, 8, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[Fire Claws] (Opps forgot the -1 Rage for Hispo rage shift)
[Attrition] The Garou change positions. Like a game of cat and mouse, the Spider charges down the centre, already situating itself along the webwork which slides off it's metallic body like water, to take up a position over the Wyrm things sliding free and out of the Trap zone.
The Cannon along it's back rears, hiccups once and then with a mighty whoosh liquid fire erupts across the grounds below, incinerating both web and spirit in a broad conflagration that begins to eat through the Pattern web with ferocious intent. The Wyrm spirits shriek, scream and howl under the power of the fire delivery, the cannon sweeping broad arcs across the downed area.
Yet no sooner has it cleared the one section, then the combined effort of the gathered Garou bring down another. The tumbling web slaps down hard this time, vomiting forth several forms which lunge to their feet with instinctive wakefulness. Several Hounds are shaking themselves even as the Spider re-orients along the building face and drops into the middle of the street with a metallic Thunk
The Garou need only watch as the Wyrmlings they've freed, steadily pushing and pulling through the disintegrating webwork in this part of the Street section, turn their Rage toward their captor who in turn, orients upon the Wyrmlings themselves. Hounds and Scrags begin to pull themselves free...
...It looks as if the battle is about to erupt once again.
[Gwen Sullivan] Gwen's grin is a monstrous thing, canines elongated in a still relatively human looking mouth, making it appear too full of teeth. She's beaming fiercely at the line of Garou to her left-- only Erek to her right for how they were positioned.
Eyes, in this form, are a muggy bogged up color, brown and green and murky like a swamp. It's an ugly color, nothing about this form is complimentary. It was function, pure and simple. Muscles are taut and heavy rock-like lumps under her skin as she finishes dragging the webbing up.
"There's our fire!"
[Stormbreaker] "Dang straight there's our fire.."
Mila backed away from the edge of the building, trying to stay out of view from the spirits and the weaver creature as they battled it out down below. If any got by.. then they'd worry about clean up.. but for now, the two forces seemed to be doing the work for them..
[Fire Claws] Fire-Claws watches as the webbing goes up in flame across the street. Watches as the wyrm goes into war with the spider-bitch thing and only goes up in flame. He watches as the flames burn and churn along the web.
He calls up his gift, his first gift ever learned when the flame nearly engulfs everything around him. He watches from above and waits until the fire continues to consume the wyrm and the webbing around them.
(Sigurd's Stride active. -1 Gnosis)
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 2, 4, 4, 5, 5, 6, 6, 7, 9, 9 (Success x 9 at target 4)
[Kalaratri] The Silver Fang huffs in satisfaction as a cascade of new wyrmlings join the battle with the old. She keeps moving, here - working to lift more webbing and increase the wave, as if the whole of it might somehow do more damage. When it seems they've run out of webs here, she follows Fire Claw - hispo - a great, dangerous leap across the battleground below (or, well, maybe she ACTUALLY has some sense, dashes down the fireescape and up the other side.)
And so on. When there are no more webs to lift, she returns to some feral form - hispo or lupus - and paces back and forth watching the battle from the roof, ready to charge snarling at any scrab or wyrmhound escaping up onto the roofs, ready to jump down to take down anything that escapes the weaver-spiders cannons, to run howling back into the Green.
[Erek Skulason] *The young Get of Fenris straightens up, erecting to the full height of his war form as he watches two opposing forces clash together in a violent fray of combat. His ears swivel back and forth atop his head, the upper line of his muzzle trembling with a low growling sound of pleasure. He can still feel his heart pounding in his chest, the thick bulging muscles under his fur shivering with adrenaline. The youth in him can't help but throw his arm into the air like a football player after making a successful touchdown, and throwing his head back to howl out.. Tail and hips swinging in a little victory dance*
1) The 'Taking a Hit Rule' in the Latest Announcements forums thread will not apply for the duration of this scene or any other scene that I run. I don't agree with it. Any objections or concerns can be made in the AIM chat.
2) All my scenes contain risk of death, just to get that out of the way. That said, I'm more of an advocate for experimenting and figuring things out with combative dicing as a last resort. Feel free to drop me a line with any concerns or questions as the Scene progresses, in the AIM Chat or if it is something you want to keep private (Merits, Flaws, background) then drop me an IM
[Attrition] "There's a blockage somewhere on the Western edge of Cabrini's reflection..."
Every Garou that was part of the Sept was required to run some Gauntlet and Guardian duty at some point or another. Patrols were a regular commodity within the Caern proper and no single Garou was exempt from the duty, tedious and somewhat superfluous as it might have been with so many of the Guardians to do the job. Still, part of duty was commitment and part of that commitment was dedication.
It is also an untold fact that patrols are meant to bring together small collections of Garou to go out and handle situations at a moment's notice, without howling about it for minutes in all directions. Easy enough to go and handle a Wyrm blight or incursion with those on hand as well as get word out to the necessary packs when one of their members was patrolling the bawn at any given moment.
"We isolated it to a few of the standard areas normally inhabited by the Wyrm and it's Beast of War affiliates. Hounds, scrags nothing out of the ordinary but activity has been quiet as of late."
Webrunner was a busy creature. He'd spent years mapping much of Chicago's penumbral expanse and watching the Taint and levels of triatic influence throughout the City ebb and wax with regularity, enough that he could probably have told just about anyone, anything they needed to know about what the Umbra in Chicago was doing at any given moment. A whisper from a Pigeon spirit or a Cockroach could deliver news of a forming Blight in need of stamping out or an Elemental blaze that was going out of control.
So it could hardly be considered out of the ordinary when he sent out brief messages to those in the bawn at the moment, picking out individuals with deft skill via small Gafflings and bringing them to his side for Briefing. He was a lean fellow in a lot of layers, fiddling with some ITouch or other touch pad device, sitting on a chuck of metal debris from the shipyard.
"Lot of you need to go clear the blockage as best you can. Flow of traffic out that way isn't meant to be so congested and the Wyrmlings start bulking up in that area, it's going to be a shit storm in another month. Fix the issue and get back to me as soon as you can with what's going on so I can moniter any other possible incursions..."
And that was that. The Glasswalker didn't seem entirely caring of their mode of transport or direction. He simply needed it done and it meant no more boring guardian duty as a superfluous unit to the Caern's true Protectors. The area in question was barely a thirty minute walk on human legs.
[Fire Claws] A call to duty was something that all Garou must abide when they are asked by the Warders. It was an honor to ensure the safety of the caern, not to the wyrm was constantly knocking at the Sept's door and any chance to knock back was a welcome change. That and Fire Claws felt this was probably the best chance to test his little ward. A mission handed down to them on something umbral would make the little teenage girl learn in the heat of battle. The only proper way for any Get to learn is in the forge of war.
Fire Claws dragged Gwen along for the ride on this one, listening to what Webrunner had to say. Debating what was needed for this mission to work.
[Stormbreaker] Mila's dark hair was pulled back into a low poney tail. A pair of sunglasses were perched atop of head. Arms were crossed across her chest as she listened to the Guardian lay out the mission. It was up to them to determine a plan.
Oddly hued green flicked across the faces of those gathered. There was only one she'd recognized and that was from a meeting over a year ago. It seemed Chicago's Sept was changing and growing every day. It wasn't a bad development, but this might have been an easier task if it were with people who's skills she knew and trusted.
"Right then - we'll go take a look. The only question is, ya'll want to slip Umbral here, or get down there.. see what things look like realm side before we pop over to clean it up?"
[Kalaratri] In her human skin, Asha is a black-eyed, sharply formed girl, not yet eighteen years old, with a certain slightness that never crosses into delicacy - in only because of her physical confidence, because of the spark of rage underneath her skin. The way she moves, as sure of her body, of its rightness, its rectitude, its power as most people are of the shape of their hands, the unconscious space they take up in the world.
She wears fine things, though not particularly fashionable. Not in the Caern, and rarely elsewhere. When she gathers with the others, her hands are already blooded - gloved in blood, the strong smell of iron in the air around her from some half-finished sacrifice to an oak-bound storm-bound god. She wipes them steadily on her fitted black jeans, getting only a sport, maybe two, on the cuffs of her white oxford blouse.
Her hair is loose; it looks like someone curled it today because it masses around her face and shoulders like some movie star's deceptively casual mane.
"We go over here," she returns, a steady look at Stormbender, a glance toward Fire Claws and Gwen. There's a British lilt to her voice; something softer, too - some internal exotic dissonance. "Gauntlet's softer. We can run in lupus, peek if we need to peek from there."
[Gwen Sullivan] Gwen and Fire Claws spent plenty of time in the Caern and it's Bawn. It was a good place for a cub to learn-- safe and protected with a thin Gauntlet and no prying eyes or straining ears to document Shifting, Learning, or Punishing. It was here that they worked, out in the Woods that things were more relaxed. There they would hunt, there Gwen felt like she could speak a little more freely with her mentor, asking honest questions without fear of his ire at her ignorance or not catching on fast enough to a lesson.
Today was a Work Day. Gwen and Fire Claws had been here for some time, bundled up in winter clothes and fighting the chill, going over intricacies of the Law and how it applied to those that were not True Born Garou. The interruption, the summoning by Webrunner in passing, wasn't necessarily unwelcome but it wasn't openly rejoiced either. Fire Claws saw it as an opportunity for hands-on learning and jumped aboard, seizing Gwen by her arm and literally hauling her along with until he was confident that her feet matched his and she wouldn't try to dawdle or shirk duties.
Not that she would anyways. They gather as a group, and Gwen stays within a few feet of Fire Claws's side while listening, hands in her heavy black coat pockets, hat tugged over her head to keep her ears warm. She didn't entirely understand the idea of an obstruction of Umbral traffic, so she didn't really say much as far as suggesting plans. She was busy visualizing what this 'blockage' could be made of.
[Erek Skulason] *Call of duty, it is a concept he was growing accustomed to. The young Get of Fenris would be found prowling the bawn when the Gaffling had found him, and the order came through for assistance. Whether his brand of skill would be put any use or not, he accepted the call and showed, being an able body was just as good as any. It would be a learning experience for Erek*
Hmm...
*The pitch of his voice cracks slightly, forcing him to clear his throat several times before speaking. Shaggy blond hair swept across his brow, blue eyes taking in the scene around him as he pulled up to the meeting place, the young Get of Fenris glancing around with curious eyes. His viking's blood pounding heavily in his veins and his appearance as he wore the face of a Get that had died gloriously in battle, and became reborn as him*
[Stormbreaker] "I would agree." Stormbreaker responds.
"Does anyone know the area in which this blockage is particularly well? Someone who knows the ins and outs of the area, both umbral and not?" If she had to take a guess, Asha did not - the area seemed a little too dirty for the likes of the Fang, but no doubt she'd be useful in other ways.
The others, she did not know - perhaps they would offer some insight into the area.
[Fire Claws] He hated the bitter cold of winter in this city. Each day seemed worse than the last and there was no comfort in this monkey skin. No fur to protect from the heat, no den to call one's own, nothing but cement and concrete.
"I 'gree wit Silver Fang, easia to cross 'ere. Wolf form good for scoutin, runnin, 'untin."
He looks at Gwen once more to size up the monkey girl. Her spiritual capability was a little lacking and trying to cross would only cause some sort of problem if she did it in the middle of the Green.
"Area close to Jarl's territory. Dangerous."
[Erek Skulason] *Erek rolls his tongue inside his mouth, from left to right and back again, arching blond eyebrows as he listens to the other Garou. He doesn't have a thin to offer as this wasn't exactly his territory and he didn't know all her secrets just yet*
[Gwen Sullivan] Fire Claws was concerned about Gwen's ability to push through the Gauntlet. If she was thinking of that aspect of the Umbra-- the getting there-- she'd be worried too. Rather she's concerning herself with what she's going to find when they do arrive and how to cope with it then. Imagining situation after situation, working through probable solutions for them as she went.
This made her look almost senseless-- because her mind wasn't so much in the conversation as ahead of it. It made her all the more forgettable that she didn't open her mouth, but just stood quiet and thoughtful, hands in her pockets and expression blank. The most her face moved was so she could tongue idly at the back of the crystal stud in the cleft of her upper lip.
[Kalaratri] "No." Stormbreaker's assumption was correct. The blood (mostly) wiped from her hands now stiffens her jeans, but the black fabric hides the stain except for the stiffness. She crosses her arms then, turning to look at Fire Claw, Gwen, and Erek each in turn. She's calmer now. The moon's waning; her rage is softer inside her chest. It gives her room to think; to breathe inside her body.
When Fire Claws speaks up, Asha nods. Her mane of black hair is a soft contrast to the stiffness of her well-starched collar. The white shirt is menswear - an Oxford - all straight lines, and the intimation of her body underneath is boyish rather than feminine except in the details - the just of a fine-boned wrist, the long fingers, the well-made hands, the subtle softness of her torso.
"I'm k&+257;lar&+257;tri, daughter of Vision of the Fall, great-great-great granddaughter of Svatantrya and descendant of the Maharaja Bahadur, the Great Prince of Princes, House Blood Red Crest, cliath Ahroun, member of the Unbroken," she gives a brief, shark-bright smile. "That's the short version, because my herald isn't here."
She glances at Fire Claws. "If you know the territory, we'll follow you there. If it comes to a battle, though - " a quicksilver sort of grin, all bright, " - take my lead."
Asha waits for other replies, introductions, the like - then pushes across the gauntlet, a certain native eagerness around alive underneath her skin.
[Kalaratri] (**descendant of the Descendant of the Maharajadhiraja Bahadur.)
[Stormbreaker] Soo.. none of them really knew the area. Fire-Claw's assesment only included it was 'dangerous' and near 'the Jarl's territory.' That was.. super helpful. But, even if he kinda knew where they were going, they'd follow him.
The female Lord just nodded slightly, and waited for Asha's introduction to conclude prior to her speaking up agian.
"It sounds like we sort of have a plan then. Let's try to keep this whole thing on the DL though, right? Nice and calm.. like we're there for business and then let's get the H out and come back home.."
"Oh.. and for those of you who don't know, I'm Stormbreaker. Cliath, Galliard. Grandchild of Thunder and Alpha of Darksky."
[Fire Claws] He turned between several of the gathered, each seemingly coming from a long line of heroes. He and his ward were somewhat on the outs when it comes to such things. For him, wolves didn't travel from the old world to the new one that often, not to mention his line was almost purely wolf. As for Gwen, well... she was a lost pup. Not much to go on there.
He waiting a few more moment as the introductions were made. Finally turning to him, he spoke up. His words touched in a southern accent, a horrific butcher of the english language.
"I Fire-Claws, Forseti Cliath and this cub. My ward. Gwen."
His thumb pulled out of the depth of his heavy wool coat to point back at the teenage girl.
"Let go now. Before too late."
[Erek Skulason] *The young Get of Fenris takes a deep breath, cold air filling his lungs as he regards the others in return. Asha being the first to introduce herself, the essence of her breeding and rage confirming everything he hears verbally. He doesn't speak up after her, waits for the others to make the rounds of introductions as he will go last. Clearing his throat, and testing his voice to make sure it doesn't crack*
Erek Skúlason, Spinebreaker to his enemies, a cliath no moon born of the Get of Fenris, nephew to the Skvaldír - Skúli Eriksson "Gutsaw", adren skald, grandson of Thorsteinn~Skull-splitter, died an Athro Modi doing what he loved best, and Brigid "Sif’s~Virtue" Telleny, an elder whom I share moon with.
*His head bobs in a curt nod to each of them*
New to the area, point me in a direction and just let go of leash.
[Attrition] They greet one another with titles and names and an urgency to finish the Duty before them.
The collection of Garou plunge through the umbral landscape of the city, a comfortable distance kept between the various bodies and their 'suspect' relationships. Few of them were truly connected by anything other than the Sept boundaries and even then, it was a passing familiarity defined more by an errant Moot or a Caern duty nod to one another. None of those present were bound by the logic of totem or the system of Comraderie that Death and Constant War usually bred.
Each was still young. Still new. Perhaps that's why the distance between each as they ran through the Night cover and the Pattern work, was something telling. A territorial sign as much as a hallmark of their connection (or lack there of).
The City is beautiful and heart-breaking all at once: crystaline structures jut into the skyline, from their dominant place at the city Centre, while the glitter of frost and snow is a devastating accessory to the permanent gleam of patternwork that makes up the webbed material of the Umbral domain. Structures and buildings, barely decades old are made of some flimsy almost-cloth of cobweb loosely grained to appear as brick or mortar or concrete. Barely the shade of it (varying Grays) makes any comforting sense and does nothing but put the instincts on edge as the Wolf Mind that each carries screams at the 'Inaccuracy' of the City and it's Spirit life.
Nevermind that the world of the Physical is wrong with it's concrete and glass houses and hovels and havens and dens. The Spirit of a City was a sick thing, that could not even keep true to it's falsehoods.
Spirit life watches them pass by, nervous, fearful and secluding enough to keep out of general sight. Winged things on roof top ledges and scurrying things in alleyways and nooks, hurry from the wall of Rage that pushes down streets and around corners, in search of something.
They find it with ease. Not because they are good at what they do (though this much may well be correct) but because it is not hard to miss:
The Weaver.
Her bindings are everywhere, sometimes subtle and sometimes not. Within the spirit, she has no need of the Mortal mind or body or the function of logic and dogmatic bueracracy. She is perfection and the process of and it shows sometimes in maddening clarity and frightening power displays.
The impromptu pack 'rounds a corner onto a side street that borders the hovel of Carbini Green, a well known landscape formerly patrolled by the prestigous Eagles. Alas no more, perhaps this is one of the reasons the Weaver has grown so expansive in the area. The entire street is layered with webwork so thick as to obscure what passes for a sidewalk on either side. Strands of glittering resin transparency creep up the walls of the gray buildings and obscure their bland windows and doors. Long curving, reaching nets and blankets of the glittering material fall from second story rooftop ledges and awnings to join and spread over the middle of the street itself.
All the way down for yards and yards and yards, growing thicker the further in one pushes. The street itself is one of the few that connects to the bustling edges of Lakeview and on into the Downtown core from there.
Quite the blockage.
[Erek Skulason] *The city is unfamiliar territory for a boy that is used to the dark swell of bark and pine, the feel of grass or wet earth under his paws or feet. It was alien to his senses, causing a low growl to rumble from his vocal cords in response to it. His eyes wander around, trying to take everything in at once, muscles tensing in the lean musculature of his form at the slightest of shadow play that dance just beyond his peripheral vision. The young Get of Fenris is quiet during the journey to their final destination, bringing up the rear why he follows the more experienced patrons of Chicago's Garou*
[Stormbreaker] Mila's wolf form was that of a rather large, completely black wolf. The only thing that really stood out were her eyes. Her pace slowed as the blockage was revield before them.
She approached it with caution, and even sniffed it some. An infestation of this level.. she'd never before encountered. Mmm.. what she wouldn't give to have a GW along. Perhaps her own Theurge would be useful this area.. too bad he wasn't around today.
"Thoughts?" The wolf spoke. Frankly, she didn't expect much.. this crew was a little quiet, but it was worth the effort to ask.
[Fire Claws] It was a quick jump from the physical to the umbral at the caern, quicker for some. And in a quick shift he was once again in his birth form, the grey fur mixed at his face and part of his under belly with black and red splashes of color.
He would wait for the rest to cross and shift if they so wished to do so. He, however, was most comfortable in his birth form, hunting and training his ward as well. And once they were in the umbra and moving towards the Green, he moved deftly on sure paws. He waited every now and again for those not to sure of where they were going, or unsure of how well to run in the wolf form or what not.
His eyes focused on the level of Weaver here, nearly snarling at the amount of spider-bitch webbing. This was what the city was all about, levels and levels of weaver taint. But not this much, this was a mess of spider taint. Sniffing for any signs of weaver spirits around, or better yet spirits that were not weaver.
[Stormbreaker] {Intel + Enigmas}
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 2, 2, 4, 10 (Success x 1 at target 7)
[Kalaratri] Asha is silent on the run. In stark contrast to her black-eyed, black-haired, bronzed-skinned human self, she is a shimmering vision of Luna's grace in lupus, under the waning moon, amidst the snows. Pale fur - nearly white - glistening beneath the shimmer of silver guard hairs. The few darker markings on her coat have the same silver gleam under any light - the silver shine of the waning moon, or the electric blue glow of the weaver's webs.
They run; she's a bright thing, pacing beside them, her tail high and alert, ears swiveling as they move. There's joy in her; eagerness under her skin, her rage and breeding a coruscating corona around her. That brightness - curdles as they dive deeper into the web-covered regions until they find, at last, the "blockage" they were sent to investigator. She wuffs out a deep, suspicious breath, all the fine hairs stark, clearly on edge.
There is the brief flare of - gnosis - from the Silver Fang, enough to bolster their spirits, solidify their collective will in the face of such taint.
Then she paces forward, snapping sharply at the webbed strands around her, the chokepoint of weaver taint, studying -
[Kalaratri] [ -1 Gnosis - Inspiration. FYI.]
[Kalaratri] Intelligence + Leadership
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 3, 5, 7, 8 (Success x 2 at target 6)
to Attrition
[Fire Claws] [-1G Heightened Senses Active. FYI]
[Attrition] The extent of the Weaver's influence here has been somewhat severe, even excessive. The volume of pattern web is extensive, but the layout of the location is worthy of notice if only because of the stark disadvantage the Garou find themselves at ground level, surrounded by so much of the webwork while the upper ledges of the rooftops remain relatively free. The low ground is especially dangerous in this moment with relative strangers at her back and the street having been narrowed by the tall and slanted blankets and strands of weaver working.
There is also a distinct lack of spiritual presence here. Spider, Geomid or otherwise. A silence hangs that is at once telling as it is disturbing. This was no blockage.
It was a battlefield...
to Kalaratri
[Stormbreaker] Had she been in homid, the mass would have gotten a lip pursing and a slight head tilt as she tried to figure this out. Instead, the wolf did cock her head to the side slightly as she continued to examine it. Now where were the little buggers that made this?
Weaver stuff just wasn't her specality, neither were spirits.. so all of this was a bit out of her realm of experience.
[Gwen Sullivan] The soft, weak point in the Gauntlet was precisely where they'd stood. That's where they crossed. It was always easiest for Gwen there. It felt like Maelstrom had worn away at the curtain that separated the worlds, like it was gossamer rather than heavy drapes of chain mail. She'd pressed through, caught her breath on the Other Side, and shed her clothes hastily (she still needed dedicated clothing) and replaced nude flesh in the freezing air with a thick and healthy pelt of tawny and white.
She didn't look much like a Get of Fenris, yet she ran along the flank of one as though they'd been together for quite some time. Like it was where she belonged.
The run was nothing. It was finding the massive wall of webs clogging up the street that had Gwen on edge, tentative and unsure. She was stiff legged, her fur bristled at her shoulders and the back of her neck. Her muzzle, predominantly white, crinkled up at the sight, and her nostrils flared to pull in the smell of sterilized air. Her teeth were bared at no one entity, just the situation.
She rumbled her thoughts in her throat and chest, when requested by the black-furred female. Communicating as effectively as she could without English. "Nest?" The flavor of the voice was disdain, disgust, and honest hope that her musing was wrong. She really didn't want this thing to be like a real spider's web, she didn't want the thick center to explode in a shower of god-knows-what.
[Kalaratri] "Battlefield." The Silver Fang corrects, with a deep wuff and a sharp shake of her silver ruff. She had edged forward when they arrived, but now she backtracks, swinging a long, bright (-ice blue-) eyed look at the pair of Fenrir, the Shadow Lord, the cub. "No spiders. Danger here. Easy trap. We need high ground."
And, so saying she begins to back away from the tangle into which she had pushed, snapping at any filaments that cling to her bright fur, shaking herself free as she looks for a way up to the rooftops.
[Gwen Sullivan] [Perception + Alertness]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 3, 3, 3, 5, 5, 6 (Failure at target 6)
[Erek Skulason] *The young Get of Fenris appears massive and grey, like the timber wolves found in the icy north. He flicks an ear, the blue of his eyes replaced by the rich honey-amber of his species. He blinks, chuffing at the webbing and flicking an ear as he listens to the Silver Fang, his tail sliding along his back legs in a small wave*
[Stormbreaker] Any input from the others was good. Thus, the Lord was going to follow the Fang's lead at the moment. She carefully backed herself away from the webbing and began to look skyward for a nice, clean place to climb to obtain the highground that was suggested.
[Attrition] ...The nearest location for accessibility to the rooftops would have to be one of the buildings behind them, where the street remains thinned of Weaver webwork. The distance from the unaffected buildings behind to those touched with weaver presence is negligible for a Crinos or Hispo leap and would barely give a Lupus form difficulty.
The surrounding Roof tops are open and expand on the cityscape and Cabrini Green's rather malevolent presence. Buildings here are squat and recede into the neighbourhood with a clustered, even quiet repulsion that seems to instinctively suggest 'Go away'. Yet the way before them, alongside that Weaver mess seems to provide no small amount of warning, even threat. Carbini's umbral expanse, displeasing as it might be, has come under attack by the Weaver's own designs.
Comply or fall.
From the Roof vantage, the Garou can recognize the stretch of the Weaver 'Bombing' down that single street for no less than three blocks. Almost as if it had been flooded, by a rapid presence of the Maker's minions.
[Fire Claws] ~WS~ "No spiders. Hive like. A mixture of energies. Spiritual energies. Inactive spirits, sleeping maybe. Very dangerous."
When Kalaratri mentions the danger that lays ahead of them, there was no pathway deeper in from this way. But to go to the rooftops would allow them to be trapped should whatever it is sneak around them. Something he didn't mind himself, but his ward was still green.
~WS~ "Follow."
Spoken to Gwen, nothing better than trial by fire as it were.
[Erek Skulason] *Erek tilts his head to the side, swiveling his ears back and then forward, tilting his head up to survey the skyline. He watches the outcropping of the buildings, trying to gauge for himself it'd be easy to climb. The Silver Fang mentions for them to go to higher ground, he blinks, and snorts softly, following the others as they go up*
[Kalaratri] They have to climb; she shifts to her crinos, then glabro forms, clawing her way up the side of a building, pulling down some ghostly memory of a fireescape, leaping from ledge to ledge. The point is, they climb. At the top of the building, their perspective changes. Asha hulks forward, cro-magnon now, and turns a skimming circle around the rooftop, surveying the obvious wreckage of the battlefield.
Then shift; four-pawed again, a direwolf now, nothing slight about here. There's just the gleam of breeding, the utter confidence of madness or purpose that ghosts around her like a halo.
"Sleeping." The beast growls in roughened high-tongue to Fire Claws, swinging her great head back to study him. "Slumber?" A huff, a concept half-remembered from some long-dead theurge. Or maybe just her father. "Unmaker and Maker fight. Stalemate, spirits fall to slumber?"
Her bright gaze flickers between the others, the no-moon and half-moon fenrir, the gibbous shadow lord, the cub without a Name beyond her human one.
She begins to pick her way over the rooftops, looking for breaks, weak points, inclusions in the web.
[Erek Skulason] Perception + alertness
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 5, 6, 8 (Success x 2 at target 5)
[Stormbreaker] The roof seemed like a logical staging point. A now Hispo (post Crinos after the climb) Stormbreaker assessed the situation from the new vantage point.
Maybe they needed a song about this? Yeah, that she could do. If there was something tangable to kill? Hell yeah, she'd tear that stuff up. But this? Good lord, she just had no clue as to what to do.
"Where's a good Theurge when you need one?" It was more a muttering to herself than to any of those gathered.
"How do we.. undo this without waking them? There has to be a way.."
[Kalaratri] Per + Enigmas!
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 4, 4, 7 (Failure at target 6)
to Attrition
[Gwen Sullivan] 'Follow,' the mentor commands. Up onto the rooftops. Gwen doesn't argue the strategy, it made fine sense to her. She followed, shaking thin flyaway strands from the mess they'd walked into out of her pelt and stepping a little awkwardly as she went. She wasn't the most graceful thing.. as Fire Claws knew, she was still young, still inexperienced, still 'green'.
She'd wait for the Foresti to move first, watch where his feet go and how he makes his way up, and mimics his moves. This is only after casting a glance over toward the other Fenrir, the Rotagar that went by Spinebreaker, and watching him for a second. The dark brown eyes were made all the darker by the white splash of fur across her face and up to her ears, gave a brief hello. A more personal, formal greeting could come later.
For now, though, she climbed and followed, keeping pace with the rest.
[Fire Claws] (Perception+Engima, diff 5 for Heigtened Sense)
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 2, 6, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 4 at target 5)
[Gwen Sullivan] [Perception + Enigmas]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 2, 4, 5, 9 (Failure at target 6)
[Erek Skulason] perception + engimas
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 1, 5, 10 (Failure at target 6)
[Erek Skulason] *Again, the young Get of Fenris brings up the rear to the others, not straying behind, but slow enough to keep an tabs on their rears in case something decided to sneak up on them. He is well-acquainted with the arts of shadowing prey. His attention is diverted, however, when they have reached higher ground and there is stable footing under his large massive paws. His ears twitch, constantly rotation back and forth, until they finally erect upright, perked to whatever has snared his attention. He doesn't quite ... hear it. Nor feel the thing that begins to bother him. In the distance, something lies in the far ahead of them. Instinct and senses seem to suggest it is quite a ways off, but it is much like wandering onto another Wolf's Territory and suddenly being alerted to the same fact. Not exactly but it's the closet sensation he has to what he is sensing*
...something.. in distance... feel it. Like go into another's territory
[Fire Claws] His eyes search over the webbing as the assault from the Weaver seems to have taken over the Cabrini's Western edge. Whatever it was that has taken over this area was nothing to scuff at either. He wuffs to his ward first and foremost. Teaching her still.
~WS~ "Look. Scrags. Wyrmhounds. Within webwork. Creature must be very powerful to do this. Get wyrm altogether. Trap them."
He looks to the others who have begun taking up more aggressive forms, ready for a fight it seemed.
[Kalaratri] Asha pads toward the edge of the rooftop and looks as Fire Claws directs Gwen to look; her great head swings in a moving line, a low snarl building up in the back of her throat, a bright point of it. Weaver laying claim? she returns to Erek, a whine of question in her lupine throat. Then turns and follows the path Fire Claws has directed his ward to follow.
She huffs. Free Wyrm as we tear up webs. We run through [chaos], clear blockage. Weaver-wolf sees prey escaping, not wolves-assaulting.
The plan, such as it is, is the best she has.
[Gwen Sullivan] Gwen's senses were usually sharper than even those of a seasoned Garou, parallel to the most vied after scouts. Yet tonight, for some reason, they failed her time and time again. Her eyes weren't as sharp, her hearing muted, perhaps by her ears refusing to adjust to the Umbra after transitioning through the Gauntlet. Her nose wasn't as keen, as practiced. Everything smelled sterile, she didn't know what to hunt for.
Fire-Claws helped out, explained what he saw, and she squinted to recognize as well. Most of these monsters she hadn't seen up close before, most were manifestations of man rather than entirely spiritual entities. She's wrinkling her snout up some, sticking close to Fire Claws, who did a fine job of dwarfing her even though she was an incredibly average sized female specimen, not too scrawny or petite in any way.
Suggestions are thrown out, and Gwen offers one of her own, ears flicking forward while she studied the block, sniffed at the webs that strayed up to the roofs.
Fire. Don't want the Wyrm free.
[Stormbreaker] "Fire would be a good plan.. if we could make it. Otherwise, we could slowly clear the blockage and kill the wyrm spirits one by one?"
It wasn't a good plan, it was just what she could come up with.
[Erek Skulason] don't know what it is, something out there.
*Erek snorts to Kalartatri, unsure of what could be out there. He listens to Gwen's suggestion of just burning the shit down, twisting his head to look at the webbing that held the wyrm creatures captive, thinking*
[Attrition] The air seems to charge slightly. A vague electric clatter that seems to live underneath the nerves. Licking a battery or the static gathering under fingernails. Each of them can feel it now, what Erek picked up moments before. It seems to be localizing from the West, where the Downtown skyscrapers make their home, glass and steel giants here within the Reflection.
The Webwork below them is still, the spiritual 'bodies' within trapped and slumbering, quiet and unaware of what approaches. The Blockage stands within one of the umbral pathways, an arterial measure clotted by the Weaver's minions. The Wyrm has been drastically reduced by this singular strike and one has to consider just how bad a thing that is, despite Webrunner's predictions.
Still yet, is it better to allow the Weaver to win in this matter as well? Is this the measure of how the City should be run? Lesser evils in circumstance? Situational Compromise?
Whatever is coming, is growing closer. Not yet visible, but definitely a presence within the wolf senses now.
[Kalaratri] I have no fire. The Silver Fang asserts, with a great shake of her head. Then, a swinging look at Stormbreaker. If we break up little by little, we wake that-which-caught-them. The last has the feeling of a title. The big thing in the distance, whatever claimed this territory. She wuffs quietly again, a look toward Fire Claws and the cub, next.
We have two enemies. Weaver. Wyrm. They fight each other to this. We push them against each other. Free Wyrm in midst of Weaver's web. Break more; stand at the end of street. Harry Wyrm that escapes into Weaver's maw.
[i]Static like this kills Caern. Devours, like spider - insects, sacs. No Moon and Shadow Lord run up flanks, breaking webs. Retreat before Weaver-beast comes. Fenrir and cub with me at entrance; fight whatever Wyrm escapes, send rest back into webs.
[Fire Claws] He continued to watch the webbing as the wyrm seemed to walk around and look for an escape from the trap that was created for them. Whatever the Weaver had unleashed was probably still around, watching its prey. But why did it leave them alive? Why not just kill them outright?
~WS~ "Fire work, but wound spiritual essence. City here may get worse. If it can. Test Silver Fang idea. Rip up some weaver, unleash weaker wyrm. If Weaver still fight us, we must protect us. If hunt wyrm, we continue."
[Erek Skulason] aight.
*Erek chuffs out in agreement to Kalaratri's plan, stepping away to move to the Shadow Lord's side, giving her a look over and waits*
[Stormbreaker] "Alright. I'm willing to give anything a try at this point."
[Gwen Sullivan] She didn't disagree with the plan-- the point that they didn't have fire was a good one. She couldn't summon it, nor negotiate with what little embers that could be found like she knew Linus could. She'd watched him talk a single spirit of electricity into a several square block blackout, he'd stood with his back to flames while they licked dangerously close to his body but let him be, focused instead on the food to be found in the building it was burning down.
Pegging one enemy against the other wasn't a bad thought, but she had to wonder...
...Why tear down wall at all? Why not let Wyrm concentrate in one area, be free on other side? Would make finding, killing, keeping track of easier.
[Stormbreaker] {Per + Alert }
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 5, 6, 6, 7, 7, 9 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[Kalaratri] Dex + Enigmas
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 6, 7, 7, 8, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 4 at target 8) [WP]
[Gwen Sullivan] [Wits + Leadership]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 5, 5, 5, 8, 9 (Success x 2 at target 7)
[Erek Skulason] Dex + enigmas?
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 2, 3, 3, 3, 4, 8, 9 (Success x 3 at target 8) [WP]
[Fire Claws] (Dex+Enigma)
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 8, 9, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 4 at target 8)
[Kalaratri] The Silver Fang sweeps a look at the cub, pins her with a bright-eyed glance, something like approval. Leave webs intact here - she returns, as cub says - a wall. Pull up deeper in.
Then, a sharp and sudden revelation. Webs here are trap! she all but barks. Tooth and claw stick; pull you in. Lift them with human hands.
Already, she's melting into her humanskin; slight again - neither small nor delicate, but finely formed. She stands at the precipitous edge of the rooftop, the umbra wind sends her hair fluttering around her, dark after the brightness. And she sinks to her haunches, then down to one knee, a glance back at the others as she reaches out to lift -
[Stormbreaker] She had to wonder; wouldn't the weaver come to clean this up in some sort of short notice? Especially if it was set by them.. you'd think they'd come back to check the traps and dispose of what it was caught. Well, that was at least her logic. If she set a mouse trap, she'd sure as hell come back to check it. Perhaps that was what the rumbling in the distance was?
The next step was clear enough to her: Eliminate what was left alive in the traps.
The Fang explained what could be caught by the traps.. and her words are heeded. The female Lord shifts, in no particular hurry back into her human skin as well. An arm raises in a bit of a strech - it was nice to be back in the form she was most comfortable with.
"Wait. The weaver set this trap to catch, and then kill the wyrm spirits. They've been caught.. I think the best course of action is now to kill them.. and then we can get rid of the webbing.."
[Erek Skulason] *The young Get of Fenris' body snaps out of its four-legged furry form at the sudden snap of the Silver Fang's revelation. His body doesn't drop into its human guise, but instead erects itself to that in-between state of human and crinos, making the boy appear more like a hairy, toothier version of himself that stood a good foot taller, and muscular than before. Despite the feral visage that twists over Erek's face, his glabro form seems to retain much of its humanity, making it possible for him to pass for human than some kind of half-monster*
It is a trap...
*His voice is guttural and deep, more growling with its pronunciation. His left ear twitches, the soft down of grey fur tufts cover his elbows and along his forearms in silken hairs, also racing down his chin and along the jawline. He grunts, squinting blue eyes that borderline that amber hue of his lupine form. The webwork was a trap for a reason. A trap for minions of the Wyrm who might fight and war with it as much as possible to be free, thus furthering miring themselves within the webs the harder they fought. Applying that same anger to the Webwork would inevitably cause the Garou the same problems in attempting to cut it apart with physical claws and teeth.
Add in the factor of the approaching enemy, steadily shaving off seconds and minutes of their time, and the Rotagar mind says...there isn't enough time to do this. Not with the thing approaching...unless...of course it was detoured, if only briefly*
We don't have time for this! Whatever comes, comes quickly. You better hurry the fuck up if you intend to do something.
[Fire Claws] He looks at the teeth and claws of large wyrmhounds stuck within the webbing. The brute force of the Wyrm surrounded and trapped within the web of the weaver. Kalaratri~yuf makes the same connection he makes as he watches the silky webs in the Umbra wind.
~WS~ "Leave this and Weaver stronger. Choke off Gaia. Weaken Caern, weaken our connection to spirits. We don't kill Wyrm. Ever watch old beaver dam. Unkept. If webbings rip away as wyrm gather up more, tidal wave of wyrm at caern doorstep."
He watches as the Silver Fang starts to lift away webbing. It was the only real thing they could work on at the time.
[Gwen Sullivan] They stay up at the rooftops, even though Gwen was under the impression that she, Kalaratri and Fire Claws should be down on the ground somewhere, waiting for the Wyrmlings to go for their only way out, picking them off as the stragglers made their way past the thrumming, electric something that was bearing closer and closer.
Gwen whuffed quietly, growled to show anxiousness. She paced along the roof's edge, looking down, still trying to make out the shapes that Fire Claws had assured here were there. As she does, she flicks her brushy tail back and forth and sniffs at the air.
Erek's snapping that they don't have enough time, and bodies shift to bring back human flesh and fingertips. Gwen stays, unsure, growling, looking down.
Will it be trapped in its own web? Should we wait?
[Attrition] ...And the electric sensation under the skin begins to gather more strength, setting nerves on edge and raising the hairs on the neck instinctively.
In the distance, the thrum of something. Repeated and heavy.
[Kalaratri] Without another word, Asha reaches down, grabs the webs, and lifts.
[Fire Claws] He starts to shift, not so easily as Kalaratri~yuf did. He was not born human, but he needed to shift to the monkey skin, or at least the near-monkey skin. Leave some sort of comfort of hair or fur a reminder of his wolf self.
He snarls as he slowly starts to shift, pushing to his Glabro form. Muscle and bone shifted around, fur shrinking and disappearing. Calling to his ward. Gutteral and butchered.
"Stay be'ind. If needed I call. Clean up wha' gets throug'."
[Erek Skulason] We still won't have time. We need a diversion to distract the thing that's coming.
*Erek looks at the others, already starting to step away from the Shadow Lord's side as Asha begins to reach down and grab at the webbing. He looks away, towards the outlining edge of rooftops where the webbing was attached*
I'm going to buy us some time.
*He is already off, moving along the webbing away from the group towards the electrical current, tapping the webbing wherever he goes to draw the thing's attention*
[Gwen Sullivan] Gwen didn't like the situation, it set her on edge. There was too much uncertainty, they were barreling in-- but what choice did they have? The thing that had her fur standing up and her teeth itching and head aching was coming closer and closer. It felt huge, intimidating, impossible to defeat with claws and teeth. This demanded strategy and intellect, experience and cooperation. Gwen was a cub. She lacked in too many areas to be of much use. Her nose and ears were failing her tonight, and while she'd deduced that the only safe way to handle the manipulation of this web was from above, she'd presumed that common knowledge. No one was eager to jump to the floor. It was safer up here, out of reach (hopefully), watching and determining next steps based on what came next.
Fire-Claws told her to hang back, and she did. The one without a proper Name, born of two-legs, walking on four for less than half a year, was the one to stay on four legs, with paws and teeth and claws. She paced several yards behind the backs of those unhinging the edges of the webs, careful to use the soft pads of human fingers and thumbs rather than running the risk of entanglement with lethal tooth and claw.
She rumbled, paced, whined quietly and seldomly, and waited to see what came next.
[Erek Skulason] Extended roll 1, dex + brawl
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 2, 4, 5, 5, 6, 6, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 3 at target 7)
[Erek Skulason] Extended roll 2, dex + brawl
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 3, 4, 4, 7, 8, 9 (Success x 1 at target 7)
[Stormbreaker] Mila silently prayed that this was going to work. Did she think it was the best plan? Not really. But she was smart enough to realize that sometimes, she didn't have the right ideas and sometimes, it was best to step out of one's comfort zone and follow another.
Thus, deft human fingers lifted the web along with the others.
[Erek Skulason] extended roll 3, dex + brawl
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 1, 4, 6, 6, 7, 8, 8, 9, 9 (Success x 4 at target 7)
[Fire Claws] (Straight Strength)
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 1, 4, 4, 8 (Failure at target 7)
[Stormbreaker] {Oooh Strength! Gooo Homid Mila!}
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 1, 5 (Botch x 1 at target 7)
[Kalaratri] (Heave-ho!)
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 3, 5, 7, 7, 9, 9 (Success x 5 at target 6) [WP]
[Kalaratri] YOU CAN DO THIS WEE FANG-GIRL.
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 8, 8, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Fire Claws] (Strength again, wp ftw)
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 4, 6, 7, 7, 8 (Success x 4 at target 7) [WP]
[Stormbreaker] {Try harder!}
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 7, 10 (Success x 2 at target 7)
[Attrition] With no Totem bond to keep them within one another's mindsets and instinctual patterns, the Garou take time to co-ordinate. Almost enough time to call it quits but in the end, Silver Fang Breeding and accumulative certainty bend them to the webwork with reaching hands and snarling grunts. This needed to be done. It could be-
-The Rotagar is insistent. They don't have enough time. Not nearly enough. Without another word, he turns and goes rushing down the length of the rooftops, hands snapping out to shake and slap at the webwork. It doesn't manage to snag him on his run, but the sensitive flutter of the Pattern still works much like a Spider's own cobweb. Sensitive and alarming.
Whatever was rushing their position seems to halt briefly, an instinctual shiver dropping down the spines of all those present even as they surge and grunt with the effort of pulling at the web between buildings.
...And Erek suddenly skids to a halt a good three buildings down from the rest of the Collective. Not because it's done but because he is out of space to run forward:
It Clambers through the webwork like some surfacing whale; a monstrosity of hard metal plates, black and gleaming that stretch out over the broad and bulbous shape of a giant Tarantula. Long fibre optic cabling juts out like tines and glowing hackles across the plating itself, while the underbelly is nothing more than the bent and shapely curvature of copper and steel wiring fluttering with arcs of electricity.
The Eyes are a dozen blazing red lenses, over the chattering movement of whirling needles and slender circular saws, that dance on the tips of over a hundred long finger instrumental arms where the mandibles would normally be on a spider.
Those slender legs, tipped with razor fine claws, reach through the webwork and the Monstrous creation orients on Erek scaling through the webwork toward the building's edge, even as the Rotagar comes to a halt.
...And the others pull and with one last surge of strength, tear up the moorings of the webwork along the roof's edge. It sends a wave of lassitude through the lower reaches of the Trap, dumping bodies down into a tangled mass of wakefulness on the streets below. Wyrm spirits suddenly come to life, gnashing and snapping as the static trap is disturbed. Webs begin to constrict anew and the sharp bellows and howls of Scrags and Wyrmhounds erupt into the air between the buildings.
...Erek is spared the Monstrosity's attention as it swivels in place to regard the sudden 'flaw' in it's Trap. Smooth and precise, it begins to scale across the webwork and the side of the buildings, several plates on it's back shifting aside to reveal the flickering presence of a many cabled cannon emerging along it's back, the tip of which sparks and spits with a liquid blue flame before a rather broad nozzle.
[Kalaratri] "Come on! - " says Asha, with a low shout. The webs are upended and she's already in motion, running to take the distance between umbral buildings with a flying leap, rageshifting to hispo as she leaves the roof. The buildings are close here, easy to leap in warform, and so she does not - not waiting to see where the monstrous spider aims its cannon, not waiting to see how the freed wyrmlings might start to swarm it. She's moving, itching to attack but stirred on by other memories, fired by other hands.
This is how she runs: a streak of silver in the dull gray umbral twilight, hitting roof after roof until she has found a position behind the spider, distracted by the flaw in its trap, by the whole in its carefully calibrated webs. When she has reached a position well enough behind it, she shifts again, more carefully this time, and shifts to Glabro.
The others have followed, or they haven't. It doesn't matter. She's reaching to concentrate, pulling on memories as she moves.
[Kalaratri] Ancestors -> CRAFTS.
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 3, 8 (Success x 2 at target 8) [WP]
to Attrition
[Erek Skulason] *Adrenaline runs the coarse of his veins, blood pounding wildly in his ears to a deafening roar that he barely register any sound except the loud drum of his heartbeat thudding a million miles a second inside his chest. It feels like it is ready to explode out of his ribcage. He is athletic to a default, perceptive enough with hand-to-eye coordination to make each target as he slaps the webbing, sending spams upon spams ricocheting through the web design. Much like it's insect counterpart, the Mechanical monstrosity falls for his diversion*
Ah, fuck!
*Hot air explodes from his mouth and nose in a hoarse grumble as he skids to a stop when he runs out of room to run further. He stands, legs braced to the width of his shoulders, head thrown back as shaggy tufts of blond hair slick along his forehead with sweat. He watches the Spider with a fierce awe flashing in his eyes, not backing down as Its attention is quickly diverted to the chaos sparked behind him. Asha becomes an elegant blur of grey mist in Erek's peripheral, shooting off like a bullet towards another crop of buildings. He twists his frame, pivoting on his boots to turn away from the Spider and the Wyrmlings, watching where the Silver Fang stops.
A raised eyebrow is garnered in her direction, but if the others are following, the young Get of Fenris moves quickly to reach her side*
[Stormbreaker] The full moon moved - Mila had been watching her out of the corner of her eye.. and as soon as she moved, so did the Galliard. She'd learned to trust -her- full moon with her life and well, tonight she was going to trust -this- full moon. Asha took off. Mila followed, snap shifting forms as needed to make the jump.. and then to prepare for removing more of the webbing.
To be honest.. the Lord had never seen the weaver like this before. Usually, it was just the monstrosities of the wyrm that she encountered.. but this, was something else all together. It did give her pause for a moment - once she was safely on the other building.
[Kalaratri] Asha: Str + Crafts - this time with the aid of insane ancestors!
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 4, 4, 4, 6, 6, 7, 8, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[Fire Claws] With the approach of the creature he knows that this will be nothing worse than a blood bath. He instinctually calls upon his ability to resist pain as he sees the monster of the weaver. He fells the rage boil on under him, calling to battle. But as the webs come undone, he watches the Silver Fang run to get behind the distrusting spider creature, looking to uproot more webs.
Quickly his body rageshifts to his hispo form. And watches as the creature becomes distracted. He barks quick orders to his ward.
~HT~ "Follow her. Help."
He looks between the spider thing and the building across from him. Looking to Jump to the next building. Leaping across.
(-1WP Resist Pain Active)
[Stormbreaker] {This time..: A more helpful form!}
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 3, 5, 8, 10 (Success x 2 at target 7)
[Erek Skulason] *Erek moves upward from glabro to crinos, using the heavier form for its strength to make the leaps across the buildings easier for him. His large frame a silvery brown blur across the buildings as he comes up onto Asha's side and using his claws and crinos strength to help tear at the webs*
(-1 rage for shift to Crinos, -1 willpower for resist pain)
[Erek Skulason] Extended roll, pure strength
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 7, 9, 9, 9 (Success x 4 at target 7) [WP]
[Gwen Sullivan] The thing that they'd felt coming for a while now emerges, and Gwen's pacing comes to a stand still. She's rigid, stiff-legged and staring hard at what she sees, as though she can't entirely believe her own eyes. It's either stand and stare or bark and yap and run up and down the roof like a dog that sees a cat on the other side of the fence.
Things occur quickly. With an effort the group manages to tug the strands enough to shake loose some Wyrm creatures below. They bellow and howl and snarl and froth, and the Spider moves to correct this, to kill or wrap snares about these creatures once more. No sooner does its back turn that they are hurdling over rooftops, up the street, to try and surround it. Confused it. Busy it up. Make it bring down its own creation.
A barked order is thrown back toward her, and Gwen jerks her head, no longer watching the spider but looking after those that hurdle from rooftop to rooftop. She follows, she manages to keep up well enough. She scrabbles to a stop, claws changing to something more blunt, thick, and yellow as she pushes into Glabro-- something without real claws, that won't get caught in the webs. That's the last place she wanted to be.
She takes up space between Asha and Erek, utterly nude and atrocious to view in such a state while swollen with muscle, broad sturdy bones, and a fuzz of tawny fur lining most of the lines of her body.
But hey, who's she impressing right now?
[Strength + Crafts]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 2, 4, 6, 7, 8, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[Fire Claws] (Opps forgot the -1 Rage for Hispo rage shift)
[Attrition] The Garou change positions. Like a game of cat and mouse, the Spider charges down the centre, already situating itself along the webwork which slides off it's metallic body like water, to take up a position over the Wyrm things sliding free and out of the Trap zone.
The Cannon along it's back rears, hiccups once and then with a mighty whoosh liquid fire erupts across the grounds below, incinerating both web and spirit in a broad conflagration that begins to eat through the Pattern web with ferocious intent. The Wyrm spirits shriek, scream and howl under the power of the fire delivery, the cannon sweeping broad arcs across the downed area.
Yet no sooner has it cleared the one section, then the combined effort of the gathered Garou bring down another. The tumbling web slaps down hard this time, vomiting forth several forms which lunge to their feet with instinctive wakefulness. Several Hounds are shaking themselves even as the Spider re-orients along the building face and drops into the middle of the street with a metallic Thunk
The Garou need only watch as the Wyrmlings they've freed, steadily pushing and pulling through the disintegrating webwork in this part of the Street section, turn their Rage toward their captor who in turn, orients upon the Wyrmlings themselves. Hounds and Scrags begin to pull themselves free...
...It looks as if the battle is about to erupt once again.
[Gwen Sullivan] Gwen's grin is a monstrous thing, canines elongated in a still relatively human looking mouth, making it appear too full of teeth. She's beaming fiercely at the line of Garou to her left-- only Erek to her right for how they were positioned.
Eyes, in this form, are a muggy bogged up color, brown and green and murky like a swamp. It's an ugly color, nothing about this form is complimentary. It was function, pure and simple. Muscles are taut and heavy rock-like lumps under her skin as she finishes dragging the webbing up.
"There's our fire!"
[Stormbreaker] "Dang straight there's our fire.."
Mila backed away from the edge of the building, trying to stay out of view from the spirits and the weaver creature as they battled it out down below. If any got by.. then they'd worry about clean up.. but for now, the two forces seemed to be doing the work for them..
[Fire Claws] Fire-Claws watches as the webbing goes up in flame across the street. Watches as the wyrm goes into war with the spider-bitch thing and only goes up in flame. He watches as the flames burn and churn along the web.
He calls up his gift, his first gift ever learned when the flame nearly engulfs everything around him. He watches from above and waits until the fire continues to consume the wyrm and the webbing around them.
(Sigurd's Stride active. -1 Gnosis)
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 2, 4, 4, 5, 5, 6, 6, 7, 9, 9 (Success x 9 at target 4)
[Kalaratri] The Silver Fang huffs in satisfaction as a cascade of new wyrmlings join the battle with the old. She keeps moving, here - working to lift more webbing and increase the wave, as if the whole of it might somehow do more damage. When it seems they've run out of webs here, she follows Fire Claw - hispo - a great, dangerous leap across the battleground below (or, well, maybe she ACTUALLY has some sense, dashes down the fireescape and up the other side.)
And so on. When there are no more webs to lift, she returns to some feral form - hispo or lupus - and paces back and forth watching the battle from the roof, ready to charge snarling at any scrab or wyrmhound escaping up onto the roofs, ready to jump down to take down anything that escapes the weaver-spiders cannons, to run howling back into the Green.
[Erek Skulason] *The young Get of Fenris straightens up, erecting to the full height of his war form as he watches two opposing forces clash together in a violent fray of combat. His ears swivel back and forth atop his head, the upper line of his muzzle trembling with a low growling sound of pleasure. He can still feel his heart pounding in his chest, the thick bulging muscles under his fur shivering with adrenaline. The youth in him can't help but throw his arm into the air like a football player after making a successful touchdown, and throwing his head back to howl out.. Tail and hips swinging in a little victory dance*
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