[End Transmission] The Fostern No Moon's back aches, or would, if she could feel the way her body buckles against the strain of the enormous boulder blocking their pathway up the mountain. Eventually, however, it gives under the join effort of several Crinos formed Garou and the Ragabash lets out a brief huff of thankfulness. Then, when the heavy lifting is ended, she reverts back down into her sprier wolf form and follows after the Fostern Philodox to greet Missing Tooth's sister.
Not that she forget to thank their first guide, that being said. He gets a whuff of thanks, even if he's already heading off.
[Buried Hatchet] Ultimately, when they all work for it, none of them can tell who pushes harder, who pushes longer, who is stronger. They're all so very close to equal, and they're all heaving together, and they're all working at once, and when Hatchet starts to roar and snarl with the effort, maybe his pack joins him. Maybe they just grit their teeth and shove
but one way or another, the boulder is pushed, and pushed, and then rolls away. Hatchet all but yips. In crinos, which is an odd enough sound and sight. He drops gradually back into lupus, shaking out his fur, dancing a bit in place though his paws are burning from the long, long running. He gathers the others together, all but herding them with bumps of his shoulders and semi-affectionate nips of his teeth, and then pulling forward to lead the way up to the cave.
[Word on the Street] Nate lends his smaller form to the boulder, but is mostly ineffectual. He strains against the weight of the giant rock. It is only when his pack sister joins with her strength that he feels the weight being lifted. THe sensation of the boulder shifting and then rolling free.
The Bone Gnawer is the last to thank their guide as he allows the others to do so. He then steps forward as he proceeds to follow his pack up into the awaiting cave.
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 7, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 3 at target 9)
[-red-] If there was mingled joy and sorrow both in their first guide, or challenger, or whatever one might call Missing Tooth Good Eye, the aura around the cave is far darker. Long before they're close enough to look inside, they can smell the coarse, harsh scent of anger, the musk of adrenaline and rage.
As they draw near, they smell other things as well: youngness, helplessness. Cubs.
When they gain the lip of the cave, a rough, resounding roar of a bark rips out at them: "Weak, Weaver-loving two-leg wolves! Do not expect warm welcome here!"
They see her, then: a huge, bristling Hispo, one of the largest they've ever seen. All four paws planted. Hackles up all the way down her spine. Eyes glaring out at them like lamps of hell, sheening green in the dimness. Her fur is mostly dappled and dark, but a crest of red runs along the top of her head and down her back.
Huddled around her feet are cubs: tiny, soft balls of dark fur and dark eyes.
[Buried Hatchet] The smell in the cave gets Hatchet's back up. His fur bristles, his teeth baring as he smells the cubs, the fury, the musk of their vulnerability and their mother. He stands, paws broadly planted, facing Sister in much the same posture and position as she takes. He's smaller, though, in this form. He does not shift. He remains smaller than her, sniffs at the air, barks:
"Yours?"
The cubs. The ones who peer back at them from between her legs, from around her ankles.
Of course they're hers.
"Hungry?"
[End Transmission] The scent in the air. The rough, roar of a threat. The mingled scents in the air. All of it combines to have the Glass Walker all but skulking as she joins her Alpha and the others, mingling at the entrance of the cave. End Transmission lets out a low, unhappy huff of air.
She sits down on her haunches, and observes things with her dark [weaver born] eyes.
[-red-] The female only bristles and bares her teeth when asked about her cubs. Of course they're hers. When Hatchet asks if they're hungry, she snaps her teeth at him furiously, spittle flying from her jaws.
"NO! Of course not hungry! How can be hungry? They are DEAD! We are all. Dead!"
The cubs cringe at their mother's wrath, eyes squeezing shut, ears pinning back.
[Word on the Street] Nate follows at the rear of his pack , watching behind them before his eyes turn into the cave. Eyes narrowing slightly as he picks up the scent on the air. Paws placed on the ground slowly as he inches his way forward now.
He moves up besides Echo and lets his eyes take in the scene of the wolf with her pups. An inquistive and curious look in his eyes as he watched the scene go on before them. A sight he has probably never before witnessed. Then his head snaps upwards as the Hispo female comments that they are dead, that they are all dead. His eyes flicking from the cubs to the mother and back again.
[Buried Hatchet] Well, fuck me.
That's what his packmates hear in their heads. Blood Summons does not, thank god; he might think twice about following a male like this any further, if he knew that for at least a few moments, Buried Hatchet is at an utter fucking loss as to how to respond to Sister.
He's silent for a moment, eyes flicking down at the wincing cubs, rage swirling around his frame as he contemplates how to proceed despite the thick, troubling scents in the air. Missing Tooth's test was easier to discern; it took no words. He does not know how they are being tested now. He does not know what Sister wants... if she wants anything but their deaths.
"But they cubs," he argues. "They need know how to hunt. Eat meat, grow strong. Stay warm. Spirit-cubs, too. Have to know."
[End Transmission] "How did you and your Cubs die?"
It's the first time Echo has spoken aloud during this trip, her question might well make it the last time, too, but her question is one of pure curiosity; perhaps mingled sorrow as she stares at the mother and cubs, huddled within their spiritual cave.
[Word on the Street] Rhya? he sends the questioning remark out over the totemlink. His eyes still looking between the mother and the cubs.
Watching Buried Hatchet for his lead, not knowing how to proceed either. The city born and bred Garou that had been raised around man, that stank of the city. Appraising the situation as he just stood there silent in thought.
[-red-] The female's eyes burn, glittering like gems at Hatchet, slamming onto Echo as she speaks.
"Killed by hunters." She spits the answer to Echo's question out first. There's menace in her growl, seething in every line of her body, in her eyes, in her upright fur. "Humans come to den-land with roaring metal round-foot beasts, thunder sticks. Cars, you two legs call, guns. They laugh and howl. Chase all my kin. Harry, pursue, taunt. Herd into traps, cages. Even the cubs."
Her eyes flash. There's a vicious sort of exactness to her tale: every brutal detail flung in their teeth.
"Shoot in leg first. Back leg. One, then other. Watch them drag about on front legs. Shoot in third leg, fourth. Sometimes, they open door. Tell wolf, go, run, free. Then when wolf try to crawl, they close door. Laugh. Finally, shoot in head.
"One by one, they kill my kin. We watch all this. My pack. I say, we save them. I say, my cubs there. We save. My alpha say, there too many of them, they not normal human. My alpha say, we let our kin die, save ourselves. He was soft wolf like you, two-leg wolf, not Red Talon! I not listen. He did not understand. They not his cubs.
"I run in alone. I kill many of them." That's a snarl, low and guttural. "Their blood sour. Their fear sweet. But too many. And then, they bring silver."
The female is shaking with rage and hate and vicious, inconsolable wrath. She does not, perhaps cannot, speak for some time. Then:
"When I back in homeland, I find my cubs here too. They all dead. My pack, worthless two-leg Garou: none dead." Her jaws snap the last of that off, a guttural roar. "Now you tell me. What good, teach cubs hunt?"
[Buried Hatchet] Wait. Listen.
That's what the pack gets. What Nate gets. Because Echo is speaking up, and he's interested in the answer, too. Her roar makes him flex his claws against the ground. Her story makes him fight to control his breathing, to control his rage, to control flashes of images he can't cope with that fly through his mind. He hears screaming. He smells copious, drenching blood. He remembers --
nothing, really. It goes away, and he growls a low answer: "Your alpha was wrong. And should have died with you, to save cubs. His or not. They cubs. Not need sire cubs, to know that. He was stupid male. Weak."
He says this with a certain finality, an ironclad decisiveness.
"But now they ancestor-spirits of Red Talons. They hunt, the tribe hunts. They eat, the tribe eats. They part of living ones. What good, ancestor-cubs can't hunt?"
[Word on the Street] (( Sorry guys , I need to head now... Too many late nights at work this week. *hugs all and waves* ))
[-red-] [night!]
[Buried Hatchet] [Night!]
[End Transmission] They are an odd crew, these city-born, two-legged Garou that assemble in Sister's cave. One a Metis, two Ragabash, one of whom is a Glass Walker, all but a Weaver drone. Another the same, the Bone Gnawer and the Fianna Alpha; whose Rage almost burns out of control more than once as he hears her story of death at the hands of the Hunters.
He's not alone, there.
Echo bristles, and her muscles tense as she listens, something like a whimpering snarl of pity, of sorrow, of righteous anger pours out of her before she can stop it. She considers saying she is sorry; but knows it would not be taken well. Not from one of her kind. So she stays silent, turns her head, acknowledges the truth in Buried Hatchet's words with a chuff and toss of her head.
[-red-] The Red Talon -- whose name they do not know beyond Sister, which may be her entire deedname, or perhaps part of it, or perhaps simply what Missing Tooth Good Eyes call hers; whose rank and auspice they do not know; whose bloody history they do not know, either, except that it ended brutally -- is so angry that every breath is a snarl.
Yet, as the Sentinels refuse to rationalize, refuse to grant quarter to an alpha who let the kin of a packmate die, her hackles slowly lower. The growls go out of her breathing. Her cubs, huddled at her feet, afraid to inch away and afraid to inch closer, raise their heads. Their ears come upright.
"Yes," she agrees, a rough bark. "He weak alpha. Stupid, weak alpha. And I stupid, weak wolf for following."
She bends to her cubs, then, nuzzling them gently, whuffing, sniffing them carefully one by one by one as if to reassure herself that they really were here, all of them, all with her still. For a while, she seems to ignore Hatchet entirely.
Then the huge hispo lifts her head again. She noses her cubs forward, three tiny bundles of fur on uncertain legs. They are so very young, still on the teat, only starting to eat solids. The largest cautiously inches forward to sniff at Echo's forepaw, one wary eye on the Ragabash the entire time.
"You want teach cubs hunt, we teach cubs hunt," their mother says. The respite didn't last long. Her rage is curling forth again, black and scalding. "You prey. Cubs hunt. I hunt."
[Buried Hatchet] Oh, fuck me. The Alpha of the Sentinels says again, heard only by Nate, by Echo, by Joey, by Daniel, by... well. His brothers. His sisters. His pack, his family, his.
He twists his head around to look at them, one Fostern of a tribe most loathed by this land. A smattering of Cliaths. A metis who has nothing beyond his fangs and his command of the spirits to defend himself with. He looks at them for a little while, then turns back to Sister. The biggest cub is sniffing Echo. He keeps his eyes on their mother.
"You hunt me. Strongest hunter to strongest prey."
[-red-] At that, Broken Hammer's head whips toward his alpha. Before he -- or anyone else -- has a chance to so much as yip a protest, though:
"Fine." This comes as a single, harsh snarl from the Hispo. "You run. We hunt. Your packmates, they go with. But if they help, we hunt them too."
A beat.
"Start running, two-leg wolf!"
[End Transmission] The biggest Cub has cautiously inched forward to sniff at Echo's front paw. It's massive in comparison, almost the size of the tiny pup's head. The Glass Walker peers down at the infant wolf, but is careful not to make any sudden movements, she does this a) because the Cub might startle and b) startling Cub means enraging already raged Mama. However, when the terms of the hunt are set; Echo's ears flatten against her skull; and she swings dark eyes toward her Alpha; level on him.
This is a shit idea.
She comments over their totemlink, and says no more, bracing for the moment when Hatchet runs.
[Buried Hatchet] Across the totemlink, there's a surge of laughter that is so cracked it goes to show why the Alpha of the Sentinels is such a difficult wolf to follow: he often seems completely and utterly out of his fucking mind. Shit! he says, in between mental giggles that are barely repressed before they get out of his throat. That's totally not what I me--
Start running, two-leg wolf.
Shit.
Dirt and bits of rock get hurled into the air as his paws twist on the earth, push against the interior of Sister's den, and scrape as he turns and lunges. Hatchet is a deft wolf, moreso than he was even when he came to Chicago and was packed under Weasel; he is also in lupus, and his natural agility -- which goes along quite nicely with how flexible (let's put it nicely) his mind is -- reaches surreal levels in this form.
I'm aware! he hollers back at Echo in his mind, even as he's leaving the cave in the dust to dart not down the path but directly into the woods and wildness. You're the Fostern New Moon, you come up with something better! Jesus!
[Face of Death] Joey doesn't need her alpha to tell her to sit and listen. It's what she's been doing for over a month. The Rotagar can talk now, can communicate easily and often does. But she sits more, still and silent, ears alert, watchful.
Inside the cave, she sits near Echo, one ear flicking toward Nate when he comes along her sister's other side, the shift back to listen to the barbaric tale of Sister's death. It's the death of her cubs that gets the most reaction from the barren Fenrir. Her ears flip pack, and a low growl sounds in her throat, soft and low. Tremors ripple through her thick grey fur as she fights to keep her hackles from rising. She realizes she's growling with each breath, and she forces herself to stop. She makes her ears come forward again.
That becomes harder when they find out their task. Joey's ears pin back in an expression of pure unhappiness.
Boss... There is a pause, and the mental equivalent of fingers drumming quickly on a tabletop. Echo's right, this is stupid. We work together.
[Blood Summons] The metis who Bear's children only know as Blood Summons is oblivious to the dissent breeding between the Sentinels and the Alpha who he has got to be convinced by this point is completely cracked. He doesn't know that the No Moons are trying to convince the higher-ranked Half Moon that this plan of action isn't entirely sound, that he's leaving it up to them to come up with a better plan.
He knows that Sister is setting her cubs after the scrabbling Fiann, and that if his packmates go with him, they'll be hunted too. He is not Buried Hatchet's brother, has to be wondering what he was thinking coming along with this motley collection of warriors and healers, but the Godi does not stand his ground and attempt to convince him to rethink this plan of action.
Blood Summons prepares to run some more.
[-red-] Almost the instant Hatchet bolts, Broken Hammer follows -- two wolves running helter skelter from the cave.
Sister does not immediately bolt after them. She whuffs at her cubs. The bold one sniffing Echo's foot comes back to flank his mother. The other two, a male and a female, sit up attentively. With her cubs gathered around her, Sister waits patiently for the 'prey' to gain a lead.
She ignores the other wolves.
[Face of Death] Almost as soon as Hatchet begins to turn, Joey surges to her feet. She runs with her brothers and her sister as they bolt from the cave.
She said they'd come after us if we help, right? So we fuckin' help!
[Face of Death] [Joey runs with her BROTHERS, since Echo's just chillin' still, lol]
[End Transmission] Echo notes that Broken Hammer takes off after Hatchet, then she turns and meets Sister's eyes, level.
"We are pack, we hunt together. If you want to hunt Alpha, than you must hunt his pack, too. Find us first, then try for him. Teach your Cubs cunning, prowess." It's all End Transmission says to Sister before she looks at her brother, sister and Blood Summons as they each take off in pursuit of Alpha.
Then her dark head swings back.
"Cubs know my scent. Come after me first. Taste of Weaver wolf." With a whuff, she turns and trots out, gradually increasing her speed as she emerges from the cave.
[Buried Hatchet] See, Hatchet grouses as he runs, his thoughtvoice untouched by the panting that is soon to overtake his body, what I meant was that the pups should chase you guys, and Sister Blister over here should hunt me...
They hear it. Understand it. The difference between 'chase' and 'hunt'.
But nooo no no no no, apparently that's not gonna work with Miss Thang back there. Christ. Daniel, what the fuck?
There's little censure in his tone. Just a bark, loud and resounding, as though calling the Talons to him and his brother, his auspicemate.
Don't lose track of Blood Summons whatever you do. Echo, if we're splitting up, if you have a plan, it'd be real super helpful if you'd let me know.
[Blood Summons] He's not the last one out of the cave, but he's pretty damned close. The Godi melts out of his birth form and into his much smaller, much lither wolf skin in the amount of time it takes for End Transmission to try and convince Sister to find the Fiann's packmates first, and he hesitates just long enough to make sure that the Glass Walker is going to be coming along before he turns, leaving bloody paw prints in his wake as he, too, bolts out of the cave.
[End Transmission] Plan is such a strong word, the Glass Walker comes back with. I invited her to pursuit me first, since her cubs sniffed me and all, they know my scent. I figure it'll buy you time to decide how to react, here. Since us all runnin' out together basically made us the dinner menu for tonight.
[Face of Death] Joey runs out of the cave, but hangs back just enough to allow Blood Summons to catch up to her.
"Stay with others. Cubs hunt End Transmission first. Should buy time."
And she falls back to keep an eye on the hunt for her sister.
Let them hunt us both, sis, you then me, Joey says across the totemlink. Should give plenty of time for our fearless leader to come up with somethin', right, boss?
[Buried Hatchet] I'm pretty sure they won't eat us even if they catch us. And I'm pretty sure we can't really kill them if we fight back, since, y'know. They're dead.
He's thinking out loud. He's thinking on his feet. He's running with Daniel as silently as possible now, darting through the underbrush, leaping over fallen trees as big as his torso -- in crinos -- and leaving minute traces of his scent in the air from sweat, from dander, from his mere existence.
Echo did what she did to try and give him time to react, to decide what to do. He flies by the seat of his pants, even when he's not wearing any. He thinks to himself: he can't let his pack be hunted down and destroyed or harmed by an angry ghost. He thinks to himself: they are his brothers and sisters and family, and they cannot let him be hunted down and destroyed alone.
He thinks to himself: stupid, weak Alpha, not to lay it all on the line to save cubs and Sister. Stupid, weak Alpha, not to rely on his pack's strength.
He thinks to himself: lucky, lucky Fianna.
But out loud, he thinks: Elk and mammoth herd. Wolves pack. I'm not sure she's going to try and hunt us down one by one, and if she does, she'll go after the slowest and weakest first. When I divided us in words, she still saw us as a unit. She and her cubs are a unit.
He's getting there.
Split up at first. Dan and I are heading north; Joey and Echo, go east. Nate, take Blood Summons west. Confuse the fuck out of them if you can. Fight back if you're overtaken. Howl for help if you are. We'll converge in the north and turn to face them.
We aren't fucking elk.
[-red-] Silent communication flies between the packmates. Blood Summons alone is cut out of it, though -- presumably -- a few sounds or gestures from Nate conveys the plan to them.
And the pack splits up. The Philodoxes to the north; the Ragabashes to the east; the Theurge and Galliard to the west. Hatchet and Hammer run up the mountain. The rest cut along the ridges and valleys. The temperature drops precipitously as they climb, faster than it could possibly in the mortal world. The scenery shifts around them surreally fast.
A hundred yards up from the bare rock jutting from the plain, they're suddenly in a deciduously forest. A hundred yards after that, a pine forest; and then, the snowline. The treeline. It's like every step is a mile; every mile, the distance between continents and the span of oceans.
Night washes abruptly to day, the dawn an eyeblink. It's clear and cold and bright. The pack is widely separated now. The snow is deep. They're leaving tracks, wherever they are. The Ragabashes pass a glassy mountain lake, utterly calm, frigidly cold, a degree or two from freezing over. A mountain lion hisses at Blood Summons as he goes by. A great prehistoric bear, larger and shaggier than any they can now see, lifts his head from a stream to watch the Philodoxes lope past. Water runs down his shaggy fur.
It's been seconds, minutes, eternities since they ran from Sister's cave.
And then -- suddenly, in the distance, traveling impossibly across the equally impossible time and space they've traversed, reaching each of the packmates at exactly the same instant no matter how farflung they are --
a bloodchilling, boneshattering howl, arcing across the sky like a hunter's horn.
That would be Sister, coming for them.
[-red-] [conveys the plan to him. not to them.]
[Face of Death] Joey races across the distance, chasing down her sister. She hears the roar and she
jumps. She leaps into the air. In her small lithe lupus form, she has the ability to jump twenty feet straight into the air. And when she jumps she twists, and she lets loose a bark that sounds like a laugh. Unsurprising, given her deed name. Come here! she cries to their pursuers.
She does what she can to try to draw fire their way, away from Nate and Blood Summons, away from their alpha and Daniel.
The Fenrir leaps again, and then she blurs.
[Blur of the Milky Eye zomg please work!]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 2, 4, 6, 6, 9 (Success x 2 at target 8) [WP]
[Blood Summons] Time doesn't pass with any semblance of sense, at least not insofar as the living mind is able to appreciate without realizing that they are not in a different part of the realm, that they aren't in any land that needs to conform to human standards: this is where the spirits of Griffin's children go when they are freed from witnessing any more of the blight of humanity, where the world is as pristine as to have never been seen or touched by mankind.
It's disorienting, at first, to feel the dilation and constriction of time as they run through a landscape that they had just toiled through, as they pass by creatures that haven't lived since before man learned how to fashion and fire a spear. The mind focuses on the task at hand, though. It has to.
The Cliath Galliard transmits the plan with the assistance of body language and quiet noises that the Godi picks up on easily: head west, converge in the north.
It isn't until they hear that blood curdling howl from the Rage-mad Sister that the reality of the situation hits Blood Summons: these are spirits, cubs even, but by Gaia can spirits kill if they decide to. He does not know the strengths of the Galliard who's running with him, doesn't know if he's particularly skilled in the art of stealth or if he's ever won a fight or if he even knows where the hell they're going. All he knows is that they have to survive until they can meet up with the rest of the Sentinels.
So he empties some of his spiritual energy into the very air around them, bidding it to donate some of its wind to blow away their scent as they run.
[-1Gn, Activate Create Element.
Gnosis: WHOOSH.]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 5, 6, 7, 7, 8 (Success x 5 at target 6) [WP]
[End Transmission] Face of Death dashes past Echo Quinn, leaping into the air with a laughing bark of excitement and taunt; her Fostern sister watches her only as long as it takes for her Gift to take control, before she whuffs and wheels about; planting her paws firmly in the earth and straightening her body out.
If she's going to be hunted; then she's going to stare down her attackers, dressed fitting the occasion for a child of the Weaver.
In steel.
[Steel Fur, plz]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 4, 5, 9, 9, 9 (Success x 4 at target 7) [WP]
[Buried Hatchet] There isn't much for Hatchet to do. He doesn't have the gifts of a Ragabash or a metis; he is lucky, he is strong, and he is able to ignore even the burning in his ribs from the constant activity. He's been able to ignore the pain from still-present wounds left on his body by Blood Summons and Face of Death. He could howl right back at Sister, scare her and her cubs if he could, but he's not sure it would be anything but futile, and it would also be beside the point.
So he runs. And that's all he does. Hard, fast, and northward, keeping track of his packbrother only by totemic senses, by the knowledge that spirit-of-his-spirit is near. They travel the world, and Daniel sees firsthand how adaptable Hatchet is, how easily he manages to keep his footing from one terrain to the next.
He barks a hello to the bear that they pass. That's the only break in his running.
[-red-] But it's not Sister or her cubs that come for them. Not at first.
Wherever they are, all the packmates -- and their unfortunate guest -- hear the Red Talon's howl. A moment later, they also hear other howls. A rising chorus like a tide, echoing from peak to peak, valley to valley: the cries of dozens of other wolves; entire packs rallied to the prey.
They can see them: darting amongst the woods, racing up the slopes, out of the treeline and across the snow. They come for Echo and her hidden sister, fifteen or twenty of them, a huge pack. They come for Blood Summons and Nate, nose to the ground, slower, milling, tracking the indistinct scent. They come for Buried Hatchet and Broken Hammer, running flatout because the Philodoxes have nothing but the strength of their will to aid them.
At least there is this: to some degree, Sister has kept her word. Her huge, hulking form is amongst the wolfpacks that tracked Hatchet. She dwarfs the other wolves utterly, and they follow her unquestioningly: a pack around its alpha. The prey has made its stand. The wolves react as wolves do, fanning out, flanking.
Hatchet can see the cubs following in Sister's wake, uncertain, their short legs unsuited for the depth of the snow.
[Face of Death] Joey doesn't stray far from her sister. Echo stops, her fur stiffening, shining in the light of day, and Joey stops. Blurred as she is, she stalks back, keeping low to the ground and out of the way. If the No Moon's are making a stand, let them come for Echo. Joey will take them from behind.
What the FUCK? I thought we were just teachin' the cubs? she shouts across the totemlink. She doesn't sound panicked. There is every possibility their pack and their guest will be torn apart today. But Joey is Fenrir. She will fight with tooth and claw until her last breath, until the ground is soaked with her blood and the blood of her enemies.
[Buried Hatchet] Oh. My fucking. God.
If the Sentinels look to their Alpha for unswerving, unshakable confidence,
if they look to Buried Hatchet for infallibility,
if they look to him for stoicism in the face of unspeakable odds,
they are in the wrong fuckin' pack. He's always been up-front with prospective packmates. He's always told them: I've failed. She's failed. He's failed. We have all made gross errors and grave mistakes. We have put Garou we loved and Garou we fought with into the cold ground, and we have gotten up minutes later to keep fighting. We bear histories of shame, of dishonor, of fighting fang and claw back to any position of renown, ripping respect from the throats of others if we must, ignoring the jabs and snide remarks of other wolves for the sake of what we believe in following Bear.
He tells everyone: we can't offer perfect. We can't offer much that a lot of young Cliaths are looking for.
So maybe Nate and Echo and Joey and Daniel, at least, aren't all surprised to hear Hatchet shudder internally as those howls chorus around them. He runs faster, barks for Daniel in wordless encouragement or just to push him. He falls back a few paces and bites at the Forseti's heels, snarling
"FASTER."
He hears growls and howling reverberating throughout what seems like the entirety of the Red Talons' homeland. He wonders if Missing Tooth is hunting them now, too, his pack in tow. He wonders what will happen when they're all chased down. He wonders what the point of this test is, if there ever was one, if it is simply to stand in the face of grief and rage and act like a motherfucking wolf.
He throws back his head and lets out a summoning, crying howl: it's time for his pack to converge with him. Let the packs of fifteen, twenty wolves haul ass after Echo and Joey. Let them harry Blood Summons and Nate. Let them surround he and Daniel. His pack will come together. Fight together.
[End Transmission] Echo, facing so many wolves, so large a pack, should be terribly afraid, even if she registers somewhere in the back of her mind that they are spirits, are ancestors of Red Talons. That there's every possibility that her Gift will do absolutely nothing at all to spare her.
The No Moon is strangely calm.
She had faced down a pack of Spiral Dancers once; bleeding and angry, separated from her pack. They had laughed at her, and hearing the nearby howls of End Transmission's pack, almost all had set off to make an end of the Kismet Bytes. Two had stayed behind to finish off Echo Quinn.
Two that never made it back, either.
So, now. She narrows dark eyes at the wolves. Face of Death! Go, join Alpha. End Transmission stands her ground before the gathered wolves; raises her head and lets out a defiant howl that reaches across the lands. Listen! it says, Listen! My name is End Transmission, Fostern No Moon Glass Walker, member of Bear Pack, listen! Ancestor wolves, to my howl! I am not afraid of death, I am not afraid of you!
She howls, stomps her paws with a strange metallic clinking; and finally, turns after her sister.
[Blood Summons] There is no English translation for the noise that Blood Summons huffs out as the chilling chorus of howls kicks up out of the distance, as the distinct sense of being hunted courses up his spine. It's partly born of exhaustion, the metis growing tired from hours upon hours of tearing across a landscape beautiful and deadly at the same time; a greater portion of it, though, is morbid amusement.
Of course it wasn't just Sister and her cubs. Of course.
Out of the distance comes a howl that is more familiar, that is not meant to instill fear but to rally together, and Blood Summons abruptly zags northeast; once their path is diverted and clear, he slows so that he is running behind the Cliath whose guts he had spilled onto the waterfall's floor just hours before.
He doesn't attack him this time. He just puts himself between the Galliard and their pursuers.
[End Transmission] [Charisma + Leadership: I R HOWLING AT U.]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 2, 2, 3, 3, 4 (Failure at target 6)
[Buried Hatchet] [charisma + leadership: MAH PACK'S COMIN', YOU GUYS ARE JUST DICKS]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 2, 5, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Blood Summons] [Charisma + Leadership: All the Other Fosterns Are Doing It!]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 4, 4, 7, 9, 10, 10, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[End Transmission] [Charisma + Leadership: I R HOWLING AT U. Take Two.]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 2, 6, 6, 7, 9 (Success x 2 at target 7)
[-red-] [Charisma + Intimidation for Daniel!]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 1, 4, 9, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Face of Death] [edit!: Joey didn't circle back and stuff, she just kept runnin' *waves magic wand that makes that all make sense*]
[-red-] Time and space are mutable here. This is the umbra, as much as it may resemble the earth-realm, the world they know. Travel is less a matter of distance and more a matter of will.
Hatchet calls them together. They turn to come together, to rally, and as farflung as they were, distance melts away beneath their paws, their frantic rush. The pack is soon within sight of one another, soon forming up in a bristling circle of howls and rage and heat and tooth and claw, ready.
Hispo-formed, they fling howls back at the wolves, and amongst each other. They bolster one another with their strength and will, throw defiance in the face of the much, much smaller wolves that hunt them. They can see one of the packs falter, and turn away. The rest quickly surround them.
There's a tense standoff, then. The wolves have the advantage of number. The Garou have the advantage of sheer strength, sheer size, and something no other animal has:
a determination beyond mere survival. A cunning beyond mere instinct.
Sister roars suddenly. There are no words to that: it's simple bloodthirst. And the wolves descend, dashing in, nipping, harrying, the bravest leaping onto the backs of the Garou to try and bear them down.
[Face of Death] [maybe it'll help: char + int (hahahahahhaah)]
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 4, 9 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Word on the Street] [ Chat + Intm- diff 6]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 4, 4, 5 (Failure at target 6)
[Word on the Street] [ Chat + Intm- diff 7]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 3, 4, 6 (Failure at target 7)
[-red-] [Okay, this is how it's gonna work.
The wolves will be divided into three groups: neckbiters, flankers, frontal attack. The neckbiters have a collective "HP" (fairly high, reflecting number of wolves), attack with a collective 15 dice, damage with a collective 15 dice. Damage is spread evenly amongst all packmates, and may be soaked.
Flankers have a collective HP (quite high -- most wolves here), attack with 10 dice, damage with 15. Damage is evenly spread.
Frontal have a collective HP (medium-low -- only a few wolves face them down directly), attack with 5 dice, damage with 15. Damage is evenly spread.
Each group of wolves attacks only once a round. Each group of wolves soak with 10 dice.
--
On the other hand, the Garou roll attacks normally. Name a target -- flankers, frontal or neckbiters -- and that'll be the group that soaks/takes damage.
Effect of Howls:
-3 to ALL wolves' rolls
So neckbiters actually attack with 12, damage with 12
Flankers attack with 10, damage with 12
Frontal attack with only 2, damage with 12
and:
+9 to ALL garou's action rolls (not damage)]
[-red-] [Typo: flankers attack with 7]
[Buried Hatchet] [Gonna say he shifted upon convergence! W00t.
Reflexive speech to tell pack + Bob to get the wolves off each other's backs first. No hickeys!
+ 9]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 2
[Face of Death] Hispo, baby!
[+9]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 4
[End Transmission] [Goin' Hispo!
+10]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 6
[Blood Summons] [Hispoooo!
+8]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 5
[Word on the Street] [ Hispo done
Int - 8+ ]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 4
[-red-] [Dan +9]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 10 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[-red-] [Frontal wolves! +7]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 8
[-red-] [Flankers +7]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 3 (Failure at target 6)
[-red-] [Neckbiters +7]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 2 (Failure at target 6)
[-red-] Init Order and Current Health:
Dan 19 3A
Echo 16 1A
Frontal 15 OK
Joey 13 OK
Bob 13 3A
Nate 12 3A
Hatchet 11 3A
Flankers 10 OK
Neckbiters 9 OK
[-red-] All wolves: just attackin', yo!
[Buried Hatchet] [1a.
1b.
1c. -- all bites on neckbiters.]
[Word on the Street] { 1A Bite Neckbiter
1B Bite Neckbiter ]
[Blood Summons] [1a:
1b:
1c:
1d:
All attacks on neckbiters. Switching to flankers if they go down.]
[Face of Death] [-1WP activate Resist Pain
1a:
1b:
1c:
1d:
All bites on Neck biters!]
[Buried Hatchet] Echo
[1a.
1b.
1c.
1d.
R1. -- all bites on neckbiters, then flankers if neckbiters go down]
[-red-] Dan:
1a/b/c/d: biting the neckbiters!
[-red-] [and yes, resist pain is go.]
[-red-] Dan: a!
Dice Rolled:[ 14 d10 ] 2, 4, 4, 5, 5, 6, 6, 6, 7, 7, 8, 9, 9, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 13 at target 5) Re-rolls: 2
[-red-] dam +12
Dice Rolled:[ 20 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 3, 4, 4, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 6, 6, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 7 at target 6)
[-red-] Neckbiters: collective soak!
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 2, 2, 3, 3, 4, 6, 8 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[-red-] The lean, hardy Forseti is the first to move. He tears a wolf from his alpha's back, flinging it away into the snow. Another one immediately leaps into its place, snapping its teeth at the scruff of Hatchet's neck.
[-5 transferred to Flankers group!]
[-red-] b.
Dice Rolled:[ 13 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 3, 3, 4, 5, 5, 6, 7, 7, 8, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 7 at target 5) Re-rolls: 2
[-red-] +6!
Dice Rolled:[ 14 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 3, 4, 5, 5, 6, 6, 6, 6, 9, 9, 9 (Success x 6 at target 6)
[-red-]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 3, 6, 7, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[-red-] c!
Dice Rolled:[ 12 d10 ] 4, 4, 6, 6, 7, 8, 8, 8, 8, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 10 at target 6)
[-red-]
Dice Rolled:[ 17 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 2, 2, 3, 5, 6, 6, 6, 6, 7, 7, 8, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 9 at target 6)
[-red-]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 2, 3, 3, 4, 4, 9, 9 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[-red-] oh, i forgot rerolls *LOL*
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 5, 5 (Success x 2 at target 5)
[-red-]
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 1, 3 (Botch x 1 at target 6)
[-red-] [aw, no add'l damage]
[-red-] d. last one!
Dice Rolled:[ 11 d10 ] 1, 1, 1, 2, 2, 4, 5, 6, 6, 8, 8 (Success x 2 at target 5)
[-red-]
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 3, 4, 5, 5, 5, 5, 6, 7, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[-red-]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 3, 5, 5, 6, 7, 8, 8 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[End Transmission] [1a. Bite! +1 Diff Steel Fur]
Dice Rolled:[ 14 d10 ] 2, 2, 4, 4, 5, 6, 6, 7, 7, 7, 7, 8, 10, 10 (Success x 7 at target 7)
[-red-] The wolves do not bleed when they're torn from the Garou, bitten open, smashed into the snow. They simply become less ... present.
And they're all linked. The strength of one affects the strength of its brother. As one is wounded, they all dim somehow. As one leaps onto the back of a Garou, he or she seems to feel the phantom weight of them all dragging her down.
[End Transmission] [Damage]
Dice Rolled:[ 14 d10 ] 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 2, 3, 3, 4, 6, 9, 9, 9, 10 (Failure at target 6)
[End Transmission] [1b! -5 +1 diff]
Dice Rolled:[ 13 d10 ] 1, 3, 4, 5, 5, 5, 6, 6, 8, 9, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 6 at target 6)
[End Transmission] [Damage]
Dice Rolled:[ 14 d10 ] 2, 3, 3, 4, 4, 5, 7, 7, 7, 8, 10, 10, 10, 10 (Success x 8 at target 6)
[-red-]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 2, 3, 4, 5, 8, 8, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[End Transmission] [1c! Same again! -6]
Dice Rolled:[ 12 d10 ] 1, 1, 1, 1, 2, 2, 4, 5, 7, 8, 10, 10 (Failure at target 6)
[End Transmission] [1d. oh come on. honestly.]
Dice Rolled:[ 11 d10 ] 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 2, 5, 6, 7, 7, 8 (Failure at target 6)
[-red-] Nearly half their strength gone, the flankers stop leaping to fill the gaps left behind as their brethren are dashed to the ground.
[Neckbiters will take direct damage now!]
[-red-] The few wolves brave enough to face the Hispos directly, to hold their attention while the rest of their pack attacks at the flanks and backs, dash in for a quick, glancing skirmish.
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 4, 9 (Success x 1 at target 5)
[-red-]
Dice Rolled:[ 12 d10 ] 1, 1, 3, 4, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[-red-] [Everyone soak 1agg!]
[-red-] [Dan]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 2, 4, 5, 6, 9 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Blood Summons] [Soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 2, 3, 6, 8, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[Face of Death] [soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 2, 4, 5, 6, 10 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Buried Hatchet] [Soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 2, 3, 4, 5, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[End Transmission] [Soak]
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 3, 3, 5, 7, 7, 7, 8 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[End Transmission] [Nate Soaks]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 4, 5, 5, 6, 6, 8, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[Face of Death] [1a: Bite!: -4]
Dice Rolled:[ 13 d10 ] 1, 2, 4, 4, 5, 5, 6, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 8 at target 5)
[Face of Death] [dam: +7]
Dice Rolled:[ 16 d10 ] 2, 4, 4, 5, 5, 5, 6, 6, 6, 8, 9, 9, 9, 10, 10, 10 (Success x 10 at target 6)
[-red-]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 2, 2, 4, 4, 5, 5, 5 (Failure at target 6)
[Face of Death] [1b: Bite!: -5]
Dice Rolled:[ 12 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 2, 3, 4, 5, 7, 7, 10, 10, 10 (Success x 4 at target 5)
[-red-]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 3, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Face of Death] [dam: +3]
Dice Rolled:[ 12 d10 ] 2, 3, 3, 3, 5, 5, 6, 6, 8, 8, 9, 9 (Success x 6 at target 6)
[Face of Death] [1c: bite!: -6]
Dice Rolled:[ 11 d10 ] 2, 3, 4, 4, 5, 5, 6, 7, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 7 at target 5)
[Face of Death] [dam: +6]
Dice Rolled:[ 15 d10 ] 1, 1, 1, 1, 2, 2, 3, 3, 5, 5, 6, 6, 6, 7, 9 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Face of Death] [1d: Bite!: -7]
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 2, 3, 4, 5, 5, 7, 8, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 7 at target 5)
[Face of Death] [dam: +6]
Dice Rolled:[ 15 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 2, 3, 5, 6, 8, 8, 9, 9, 9, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 7 at target 6)
[-red-]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 3, 5, 6, 6, 9, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[-red-]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 10, 10 (Failure at target 6)
[Blood Summons] [1a: Brawl+Dexterity (+2 +9): Bite! -4 pool (split).]
Dice Rolled:[ 12 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 3, 3, 5, 6, 7, 8, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 6 at target 5)
[Blood Summons] [Damage: Strength +3 (Hispo) +2 (bite) +5 (suxx).]
Dice Rolled:[ 13 d10 ] 2, 2, 3, 3, 6, 6, 7, 7, 7, 8, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 9 at target 6)
[-red-]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 3, 4, 4, 5, 5, 6 (Failure at target 6)
[Blood Summons] [1b: Brawl+Dexterity (+2 +9): Bite! -5 pool (split).]
Dice Rolled:[ 11 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 4, 4, 4, 4, 7, 7, 8, 10 (Success x 3 at target 5)
[Blood Summons] [Damage: Strength +3 (Hispo) +2 (bite) +2 (suxx).]
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 4, 6, 8, 8, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[Blood Summons] [1c: Brawl+Dexterity (+2 +9): Bite! -6 pool (split).]
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 2, 5, 6, 6, 6, 8, 8, 8, 10 (Success x 7 at target 5)
[-red-]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 1, 3, 4, 5, 6, 10 (Failure at target 6)
[Blood Summons] [Damage: Strength +3 (Hispo) +2 (bite) +6 (suxx).]
Dice Rolled:[ 14 d10 ] 1, 1, 3, 4, 4, 4, 4, 5, 5, 6, 7, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[-red-]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 3, 3, 3, 4, 10, 10, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[Blood Summons] [1d: Brawl+Dexterity (+2 +9): Bite! -7 pool (split).]
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 1, 1, 3, 3, 7, 8, 8, 8, 10 (Success x 3 at target 5)
[Blood Summons] [Damage: Strength +3 (Hispo) +2 (bite) +2 (suxx).]
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 3, 3, 4, 4, 4, 6, 6, 8, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[-red-]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 2, 5, 6, 6, 7, 8, 8 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[Word on the Street] [1a Bite Neckbiter - 6d6]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 2, 4, 6, 7, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[-red-] Only a few wolves remain on the backs of the Garou. Their fellows, swarming around the Hispos, whine and snap and snarl. None take the leap.
[Word on the Street] [ Extra Dice - 9d6]
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 1, 8, 9, 9, 9, 9, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 7 at target 6)
[-red-] soak!
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 2, 3, 5, 7, 8, 8, 9 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[Word on the Street] [ Dam - 15d6]
Dice Rolled:[ 15 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 3, 3, 4, 4, 5, 6, 7, 7, 8, 8, 10, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[Word on the Street] [ 1b Bite Neck bite - 14d6]
Dice Rolled:[ 14 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 7, 8, 10, 10, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[-red-]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 3, 4, 5, 6, 6, 6 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Buried Hatchet] 1a. -3
Dice Rolled:[ 15 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 5, 6, 6, 7, 7, 7, 9, 10 (Success x 6 at target 5) Re-rolls: 1
[Word on the Street] [ Dam - 11d6]
Dice Rolled:[ 11 d10 ] 1, 3, 3, 3, 4, 5, 7, 8, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[Buried Hatchet] damage!
Dice Rolled:[ 14 d10 ] 1, 1, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 5, 8, 9, 9, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[Buried Hatchet] 1b. -4
Dice Rolled:[ 14 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 3, 4, 4, 4, 5, 6, 6, 6, 8, 8, 9, 10, 10, 10, 10, 10, 10 (Success x 12 at target 5) Re-rolls: 6
[-red-]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 3, 4, 5, 6, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[Buried Hatchet] damage!
Dice Rolled:[ 20 d10 ] 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 2, 2, 3, 3, 4, 5, 5, 6, 6, 6, 7, 7, 8, 8, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[-red-] soak b!
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 2, 3, 5, 6, 7, 9, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[Buried Hatchet] 1c. -5
Dice Rolled:[ 13 d10 ] 1, 3, 5, 5, 6, 6, 7, 7, 8, 8, 8, 9, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 12 at target 5) Re-rolls: 2
[-red-] soak c!
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 8, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[Buried Hatchet] damage the third
Dice Rolled:[ 20 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 3, 3, 4, 4, 4, 4, 5, 5, 7, 7, 8, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[-red-] All at once, several of the wolves ranging at their flanks gather up the nerve to attack: dashing in to bite at the Garou's hamstrings, their heels.
[attack! -1diff for flanking]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 2, 4, 5, 6, 8, 10 (Success x 4 at target 4)
[-red-] [damage +3!]
Dice Rolled:[ 15 d10 ] 2, 4, 4, 5, 5, 6, 6, 8, 8, 8, 8, 9, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 10 at target 6)
[-red-] [everyone soak 4 each!]
[End Transmission] [This is going to hurt.]
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 1, 3, 4, 4, 5, 6, 7, 7, 9 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Buried Hatchet] [Soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 2, 4, 4, 4, 5, 6, 7 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Face of Death] [soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 4, 4, 5, 7, 9, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[Blood Summons] [Soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 1, 1, 8, 10 (Failure at target 6)
[-red-] [dan]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 4, 5, 6, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[Blood Summons] [Natetron!]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[-red-] This is what it feels like to be prey.
To be herded, harried, nipped at, assaulted on all sides by a whirlwind of grey and white. The wolves dash in, they rip at the Garou, they pull out mouthfuls of fur, scratch their thick hides, injure them.
They do bleed. Their blood is hot and red, melting the snow. The pain, for those that can feel it, is real. So are the injuries.
Which are so severe, in Blood Summons' case, that he should be down. His leg is mangled. He shouldn't be able to stand. He should be stunned on the ground, incapacitated
but he's not. He's still up. And the wolves are still coming on.
[Henceforth, every damage on Bob that's not soaked will subtract 1 from his current WP.]
[-red-] Neckbiters!
-2 diff.
Dice Rolled:[ 12 d10 ] 4, 4, 5, 6, 6, 8, 8, 9, 9, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 12 at target 3)
[-red-] Damage +11!
Dice Rolled:[ 23 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 3, 3, 3, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 7, 8, 8, 8, 8, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 6 at target 6)
[-red-] [soak 2!]
[Face of Death] [soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 3, 4, 5, 5, 6 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[-red-] Dan!
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 4, 5, 7, 8, 9, 9 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[Buried Hatchet] [SOAK]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 1, 7, 7, 7, 7, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[Blood Summons] [Soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 2, 4, 4, 10 (Failure at target 6)
[End Transmission] [Soak]
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 1, 1, 3, 4, 4, 6, 7, 7, 7 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Blood Summons] [Nate!]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 2, 2, 3, 6, 7, 10, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[End Transmission] [R1. BITE.]
Dice Rolled:[ 19 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 2, 2, 3, 3, 4, 5, 5, 6, 6, 7, 7, 8, 8, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 8 at target 6)
[End Transmission] [Damage + 7]
Dice Rolled:[ 16 d10 ] 1, 2, 4, 4, 4, 4, 5, 5, 5, 5, 6, 7, 7, 10, 10, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[-red-] soak!
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 4, 5, 6, 6, 7, 8, 9 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[-red-] [Round summary:
Dan 19 3A 5WP
Echo 16 4A 5WP
Frontal 15 OK N/A
Joey 13 2A 3WP
Bob 13 7A 3WP
Nate 12 3A 4WP
Hatchet 11 5A 5WP
Flankers 10 -21 N/A
Neckbiters 9 -40 N/A
Frontal wolves are OK
Flankers look about half down
Neckbiters are straggling
Reroll inits with damage thrown in! Executive decision: due to IRL wife aggro, Nate gets swarmed by a bunch of flankers and is busy there. -10 to Flankers, Nate out of the roll rotation!]
[Buried Hatchet] [+9]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 2
[Face of Death] [+9]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 5
[Blood Summons] [+8]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 5
[Buried Hatchet] This is his pack: his Rotagar, his Forseti, his Walker, his Gallard. This is the Theurge they told him about, brought to him, whose paws bloody when his claws grow, who fights til he falls, whose rallying, stirring howls knit together the rest of their voices into one stunning roar of defiance in the faces of Sister's wolves, called down on their throats.
Hatchet is called arrogant, often enough. Maybe he is. But sometimes he has damn good reasons to be proud. They fight with all they have, full tilt, flat out. He holds back a bit, reserves his strength, watches them for their needs, who is closest to falling. And when the one of them who is not one of them drops into a bloody heap, Hatchet sinks his teeth into the wolf he's fighting one last time before tearing towards Blood Summons.
[End Transmission] [+10]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 9
[End Transmission] End Transmission, that gleaming, steel furred Glass Walker is right in there, in the thick of it. For all that she's a city born wolf; an urrah like Nate, she fights just as ferociously as any of the Red Talons swarming them. She does not hesitate, and she does not back down. When Blood Summons falls; or should have fallen beneath the staggering weight of his wounds -- Hatchet is not alone in moving toward the fallen Fenrir.
Echo is right behind him, securing a pathway; biting whoever comes near, repelling blows with her tribe's gift where she can.
[-red-] Frontal! +7
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 7 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[-red-] Flankers! +7
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 4 (Failure at target 6)
[-red-] Neckbiters! +7
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 9 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[-red-] Dan! +9
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 2 (Failure at target 6)
[-red-] [Order of inits/status --
Echo 19 4A 5WP
Neckbiters 16 -40 N/A
Joey 14 2A 3WP
Frontal 14 OK N/A
Bob 13 7A 3WP
Hatchet 11 5A 5WP
Dan 11 3A 5WP
Flankers 11 -31 N/A ]
[-red-] [Should also init for Sister -- +9]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 7 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[-red-] As the remaining wolves begin to falter, much of their strength lost to the Sentinels, Sister at last lunges into the fray.
Her snarling howl inspires the wolves. They rally around her, driving back at the pack with redoubled force. The enormous Hispo takes the frontal position herself; the rest of the wolves swarm to the rear and the flanks.
[Sister is frontal; Frontal wolves are splitting between neckbiters (a few) and flanks (most)]
[-red-] Declaring:
All wolves -- keep trying to bring "prey" down!
Sister: held for now.
Dan:
4 splits on neckbiters!
[Buried Hatchet] [Reflexive:
1a. MT on Bob
1b.
1c.
1d. -- bites on neckbiters, then flankers]
[Blood Summons] [1a: Mother's Touch on Hatchet.
1b:
1c:
1d:
Bites on neckbiters, flankers if they go down.]
[Face of Death] [1a:
1b:
1c:
1d:
R:
All bites on Flankers]
[End Transmission] [1a.
1b.
1c.
1d.
R. -- all bites on Sister]
[-red-] [Sister declare -- all actions +1 diff:
1. Bite Echo
R1. Bite Echo
R2. Bite Echo
R3. Bite Bob
R4. Bite Hatchet!]
[End Transmission] [1a. Bite Sister!]
Dice Rolled:[ 14 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 2, 3, 3, 4, 5, 5, 7, 7, 7, 7, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[End Transmission] [Damage + 2]
Dice Rolled:[ 11 d10 ] 2, 4, 4, 4, 4, 5, 7, 8, 8, 8, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[End Transmission] [1b. Again!]
Dice Rolled:[ 13 d10 ] 3, 3, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 6, 7, 7, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 6 at target 6)
[-red-] [soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 2, 3, 4, 4, 5, 5, 6, 9 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[End Transmission] [Damage + 5]
Dice Rolled:[ 14 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 4, 5, 6, 6, 6, 7, 7, 8, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 8 at target 6)
[-red-]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 2, 3, 3, 4, 5, 6, 6, 8 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[End Transmission] [1c. and again!]
Dice Rolled:[ 12 d10 ] 1, 1, 1, 2, 2, 2, 3, 4, 4, 6, 7, 7 (Failure at target 6)
[End Transmission] [1d. annnd again!]
Dice Rolled:[ 11 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 3, 3, 4, 4, 5, 7, 9, 9 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[End Transmission] [Damage + 0]
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 1, 4, 5, 5, 5, 5, 7, 8, 8 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[-red-] soak!
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 4, 6, 7, 7, 7, 10, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[-red-] Attacked by the gleaming, steelfurred Glass Walker, Sister, until then merely an inspiring presence amongst the wolves, reacts as one might expect her to:
Instantly. Savagely. And with unadulterated fury and utter outrage.
"YOU DARE?!"
[chomp!]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 3, 3, 5, 5, 7, 7, 8, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 6 at target 6) Re-rolls: 2
[-red-] [damage!]
Dice Rolled:[ 15 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 2, 2, 4, 4, 4, 5, 5, 6, 8, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[End Transmission] [Soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 3, 4, 4, 5, 5, 6, 8 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[-red-] Neckbiters!
Dice Rolled:[ 12 d10 ] 1, 1, 1, 2, 5, 6, 6, 6, 8, 8, 10, 10 (Success x 5 at target 3)
[-red-] Damage +4!
Dice Rolled:[ 16 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 3, 4, 4, 5, 6, 6, 6, 8, 9, 9, 10, 10, 10 (Success x 8 at target 6)
[-red-] [everyone soak 3A!]
[Buried Hatchet] [Soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 2, 3, 3, 5, 8, 8, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[Blood Summons] [Soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 3, 9, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[End Transmission] [Soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 2, 3, 4, 5, 5, 6, 6, 6, 9, 9 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[Face of Death] [soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 3, 4, 5, 7, 9, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[-red-] [Dan soaks!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 3, 3, 3, 5, 6 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Face of Death] [1a: Bite! Flankers: -4]
Dice Rolled:[ 13 d10 ] 2, 3, 3, 4, 5, 6, 6, 6, 6, 6, 8, 8, 9 (Success x 9 at target 5)
[-red-] soak!
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 7, 7, 8, 9, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 7 at target 6)
[Face of Death] [dam: +8]
Dice Rolled:[ 17 d10 ] 1, 1, 1, 2, 2, 2, 2, 3, 4, 5, 5, 6, 7, 7, 7, 7, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[Face of Death] [1b: Bite!: -5]
Dice Rolled:[ 12 d10 ] 2, 2, 3, 3, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 7, 9, 9 (Success x 6 at target 5)
[Face of Death] [dam: +5]
Dice Rolled:[ 14 d10 ] 1, 1, 3, 3, 4, 4, 4, 4, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[-red-]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 3, 4, 5, 7, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[Face of Death] [1c: bite!: -6]
Dice Rolled:[ 11 d10 ] 2, 2, 5, 7, 7, 7, 7, 9, 10, 10, 10 (Success x 9 at target 5)
[Face of Death] [dam: +8]
Dice Rolled:[ 17 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 3, 3, 3, 3, 4, 5, 5, 5, 6, 9, 10, 10, 10, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[Face of Death] [1d: bite!: -7]
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 3, 4, 5, 5, 5, 6, 6, 7, 8 (Success x 6 at target 5)
[-red-]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 2, 3, 9, 9 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Face of Death] [dam: +5]
Dice Rolled:[ 14 d10 ] 2, 2, 4, 4, 5, 5, 5, 6, 6, 6, 7, 9, 9, 9 (Success x 7 at target 6)
[-red-] and soak d!
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 3, 7, 8, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[Blood Summons] [-1Gn: Activate Mother's Touch.
1a: Medicine+Intelligence (+9): MT Hatchet. -4 pool (split).]
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 2, 3, 3, 3, 4, 5, 6, 6, 7, 8 (Success x 4 at target 6)
[Blood Summons] [-1Gn: Activate Mother's Touch 'gain.
1b: Medicine+Intelligence (+9): MT Echo. -5 pool (split).]
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 1, 4, 4, 6, 6, 7, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 7 at target 2)
[Blood Summons] [1c: Brawl+Dexterity (+2 +9): Bite! -6 pool (split).]
Dice Rolled:[ 10 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 5, 5, 6, 6, 6, 9, 10 (Success x 6 at target 5)
[Blood Summons] [Damage: Strength +3 (Hispo) +2 (bite) +5 (suxx).]
Dice Rolled:[ 13 d10 ] 5, 5, 6, 6, 7, 7, 7, 8, 8, 10, 10, 10, 10 (Success x 11 at target 6)
[Blood Summons] [1d: Brawl+Dexterity (+2 +9): Bite! -7 pool (split).]
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 1, 3, 3, 4, 5, 7, 8, 9, 9 (Success x 4 at target 5)
[-red-]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 1, 4, 5, 6, 10, 10 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Blood Summons] [Damage: Strength +3 (Hispo) +2 (bite) +3 (suxx).]
Dice Rolled:[ 11 d10 ] 1, 2, 4, 4, 6, 7, 7, 7, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 6 at target 6)
[Buried Hatchet] [1a. -1G, -4, +9: MT on Bob!]
Dice Rolled:[ 11 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 3, 5, 5, 7, 7, 7, 7, 10
[-red-] With that last, devastating attack, the neckbiters break off, turning tail and running. They scarcely reach the treeline before they're lost in the snow, the glare, the forest, the shadows.
[Buried Hatchet] [1b. bite flankers now! -5]
Dice Rolled:[ 13 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 3, 3, 4, 5, 7, 7, 7, 8, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 7 at target 5) Re-rolls: 1
[Buried Hatchet] [damage!]
Dice Rolled:[ 15 d10 ] 1, 1, 1, 1, 2, 3, 3, 4, 4, 5, 7, 8, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[Buried Hatchet] [1c. excuse me, bitch?]
Dice Rolled:[ 12 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 4, 4, 4, 5, 6, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 (Success x 6 at target 5) Re-rolls: 1
[Buried Hatchet] [+5]
Dice Rolled:[ 14 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 3, 4, 6, 6, 7, 8, 8, 9, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 7 at target 6)
[-red-]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 1, 3, 4, 4, 5, 6 (Failure at target 6)
[-red-]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 2, 4, 5, 5, 7, 8, 8 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[Buried Hatchet] [1d. that's better.]
Dice Rolled:[ 11 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 4, 4, 6, 7, 8, 8, 8, 9, 10, 10, 10, 10 (Success x 9 at target 5) Re-rolls: 4
[Buried Hatchet] [+8]
Dice Rolled:[ 17 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 2, 2, 3, 3, 4, 5, 5, 6, 7, 7, 7, 7, 10, 10 (Success x 5 at target 6)
[-red-] soak!
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 2, 4, 5, 5, 8, 9 (Success x 1 at target 6)
[-red-] As Hatchet spins and whirls, teeth flashing, the flankers fall back: ears back, tail tucked. All at once, they turn and flee.
Now it's just the pack -- and Sister: huge and bristling. Echo's bitten her four times already. If she's injured, it doesn't show. Her cubs are still there, too. Hanging back in the snow, crowded together, whimpering.
Broken Hammer's sides are heaving. His breath is white in the chill, and there's red in the snow at his feet. His eyes are wild as he looks for more wolves, more attackers to fend off -- there are none.
[Buried Hatchet] Hatchet wheels about, now almost completely healed, more whole and hale than he's been since the attack right outside the waterfall. And his thick fur bristling, he plants his paws and bares his teeth at Sister, snarling for his pack and his would-be pack:
no words.
There is only the body language, the sense of things now, red-tinged from rage and battle and blood. Gather. Gather to his sides, and behind him. As a pack.
[End Transmission] End Transmission; healed from her would be grievous wounds [not that she felt a damn thing beneath Bear's gift] bares her own teeth at Sister, a reminder perhaps of what they had already delivered to the other female Hispo wolf, and what they could do if she pressed her case. Then, glimpsing the tiny Cubs hunkered down in the snow-packed earth, a snuffling of breath leaves her snout, and she trots back to fall in line beside her Alpha.
Wordless.
Pack.
[Face of Death] Ears back, fur bristling, Joey falls into place, beside and a little behind Hatchet.
[Blood Summons] He should be dead right now, or at the very least in a berserk frenzy after clawing his way back from death. He's not dead. After Buried Hatchet's healing touch, he's not anywhere near close to it. His tawny fur is splattered with blood dried and fresh, his and not-his, but he's still standing with the rest of the Sentinels.
Their Alpha calls for them to stand beside him, and that's where the stranger goes: he falls in next to End Transmission, a snarl riding its way up his spine and rattling out into the air in a white stream.
[-red-] A tense standoff. Not a word from either side. Ferocious glaring; snarling from the huge Talon, a steady growl underlying every breath until it becomes clear that the Sentinels have stood down. Then, slowly, the growling abates. Her eyes are still suspicious and glaring, full of mistrust and dislike, but for the moment at least -- she does not attack them again.
She chuffs instead, calling her cubs to her side. They come forward. One attacks another on the way; they tumble in the snow, spring up, shake their downy fur off. Sit at their mother's feet, between her forepaws, protected.
Who begins to speak:
"In my last life, I called Angry Spirit Sister, high rank Moon Seer of the Red Talons. Now, I called Angry Sister Howls For Blood. I do not think I will be Moon Seer in next life.
"These my cubs, Grey Muzzle, Always Curious and Barks Loud. The wolves you drove away, my kin. My grown cubs, my brothers and sisters, my mother, my father, the brothers and sisters of my mother and father. Their cubs too.
"My family.
"You, not-small rank Stag's wolf: you promise, teach my cubs hunt. What have you taught? What, besides that your packmate, the metal-skin one," there's such outrage in the way she spits the words out, "is fool, and rest of you happy to kill kin wolves when wolves no kill you?"
[Buried Hatchet] If she had attacked, he would have ordered them on her like lightning strikes. He would have told Blood Summons to call down whatever spirits might answer the call of a Fenrir metis in their own homeland. He would have told Echo to shield her packmates where she could. Would have told Nate to hang back and heal if necessary. He would have told Daniel to flank Sister, would have told Joey to leap on her from behind. Would have gone for her throat, himself.
And they would have orphaned three cubs, if she attacked his pack again.
He's ready to kill. He's ready to die. He's ready to show Sister and her children what a real hunt can be like, when you go up against the predator of predators: a Garou. A pack of Garou.
Deep, deep inside: he is so relieved that she does not attack that his legs feel weak for a moment. His heart hammers in his chest. He watches the cubs tumble and shuffle through the snow towards their mother and he aches. He bows his head because he knows she isn't coming for them now. He breathes, his air steaming in the cold.
She speaks, and Hatchet lifts his eyes, listening.
"We taught: when you hunt Garou, Garou fight back. We taught: pack fights together, even when Alpha stupid and weak."
He pauses there, brushes at the snow with his paw.
"You want easy hunt for cubs, you want prey that you can take down and eat after you hunt with such a large family? There are elk here. There are others to be teaching-prey for you. I did not choose your quarry. You chose, Angry Sister Howls For Blood-rhya. I did not promise. I told you: cubs need to know how to hunt."
Another pause, before he speaks again, as level, calm, and respectful as his snarling, barking voice can be in hispo:
"You had them in cave behind a stone."
[-red-] A long silence.
Then Sister whuffs once, a discontented sound -- but not an aggressive one. That's all the acknowledgment or approbation Hatchet will get.
"I not like you, two-leg wolf. I not like you at all. But, you may continue." She angles her muzzle toward the mountain path: ever steeper, ever upward. "If you have the strength."
Their blood and their enormous pawprints scattered amongst the much smaller ones of the kinwolves: that's all that marks the snow they tread across on the way upward.
sister.
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