Around the Fire Pit
The small rock-shielded firepit just within the path of the Wheel contains a small, brightly burning fire. The ground is baked near it, and grasses grow in waves away from it, starting scraggly and getting greener near the inner groove of the Wheel. To the west is the earthen mound, and back to the south is the small pool.
Contents:
Horakthy
Obvious exits:
Forward Back Center of the Wheel
l Hor
This dark-furred wolf has a distinctly jackal-like cast to his appearance. Thin and lanky, he has a bearing of confidence and dignity. Scars and the remains of wounds are all that are left to show that he was badly wounded only recently. Now, he seems mostly tired and only mildly uncomfortable.
At the center, Nepthys waves at Sepdet.
Horakthy whuffs a good-day to Sepdet.
On the southern curve, Oaken comes in from the woodland to the south.
On the southern curve, Oaken heads into the center.
Sepdet waves at tribe-sister, then tilts ears turns the Strider she has not seen before.
At the center, Oaken smiles at Nepthys. "It finally quiet around here, huh?"
At the center, Oaken heads northeast to the fire pit.
Oaken has arrived.
Oaken smiles to Sepdet, and looks curiously at the newcomer as he sits down.
Sepdet dips her eyes, pleased to see yet another one. ~Sepdet, Theurge.~ (Little need for her to mention tribe.)
Oaken says "Oaken, Fianna Galliard of the McDaniels clan. Care for a sandwich?"
Sepdet signs or is that McDonalds? to Nepthys, and sits carefully.
Horakthy is Horakthy, a Philodox of the Silent Striders, and ate a rabbit just now, thank you.
Oaken empties out most of his backpack, dumping out three first aid kits, some vials, and three odd string-bags made of thick canvas. He blinks at Horakthy.
Oaken says "If you're the Horakthy Echen spoke of, who came with the warning about the skull, then I'm very honored to meet you, rhya. I wasnt sure you'd hung around."
Sepdet whuffs thoughtfully, and regards Horakthy with added respect as she places the name.
At the center, Nepthys heads northeast to the fire pit.
Nepthys has arrived.
Nepthys pads up. Nods respectfully to Horakthy, signing in strider sign language, [Nepthys, Strider Galliard.]
Horakthy whuffs noncomittantly, then says, ~I will stay as long as the danger remains.~
Oaken glances at Nepthys with a sigh. "I'm gonna have to learn that someday..."
Horakthy nods to Nepthys in return. Greetings, Nepthys.
Horakthy sniffs at the sandwich. What is that?
Oaken looks down at the foil package. "Virginia ham and gruyere cheese, toasted over some rye (fresh-baked). The bakery I work at sells them at lunchtime."
Horakthy remembers the first time he ate cheese. And whuff-sneezes.
Oaken smiles a little at Horakthy. " `First part of the kill to the Leader'...it's yours if you want it, rhya. But please, what advice would you give on the skull and it's carriers?"
Horakthy does not eat cheese. Thank you, Oaken.
Jon Nomad has arrived.
Horakthy would advise you to hunt down Gah-thkk, and kill him on sight, before he has a chance to invoke the fetish.
@desc TarotDeck=A bulging, worn suede pouch hangs from the beltloops on Sepdet's faded jeans, a figure like a stylized asterix burned into the leather. If she brings out the cards, you will see they are an odd mixture of various different decks, some homemade, even a few homid cards, and all distinguished by their unusual artwork and riddling haikus across the back of many.
Set.
Jon Nomad twitches in his sleep, muttering.
Oaken frowns thoughtfully. "This Gah-thkk; what does he (or she) look like? Where might we find him (or her)?
Horakthy pauses, then says, ~In homid or lupus first?~
Oaken smiles gratefully. "Whichever form you think is most likely."
Horakthy says, ~A man in his mid-forties, brown hair which is greying, thick white eyebrows, and he always wears a white scarf.~
Sepdet's ears twitch at Oaken's question. She yearns to go hunting too, though uncle warned cub against this.
Oaken nods, eyebrows raised. "A very distinctive look."
Horakthy wolf-nods, ~I am less familiar with those who travel with him, though one of them is...fat,~
Sepdet wrinkles her nose, wondering if the Wyrm-stench would not give all of them away.
Jon Nomad shudders. ~...such...save you now?...reborn...break...first...~ He shudders again, more violently, a snarl ripping out ~Never!~ His eyes snap open, filled with blind fury, and slowly refocus on the waking world, blinking. Sighing, he sits up.
Nepthys stares at Jon.
Oaken smiles at Sepdet. "Some of us are less attuned to that; we've got to squeak by with whatever info we can get." He stops himself on the verge of moving to Jon.
Horakthy regards Jon curiously.
Sepdet jumps and turns to inspect the air *around* Jon, then sighs and shrugs.
Jon Nomad stares at the fire, breathing deeply, steadily, eyes blazing.
On the southern curve, Echen comes in from the woodland to the south.
On the southern curve, Echen heads into the center.
Horakthy notes that there is no Wyrm scent there.
At the center, Echen heads northeast to the fire pit.
Echen has arrived.
Oaken nods to Echen, still looking at Jon with concern.
Sepdet nods, uncertain, still giving Jon a wary, but not entirely unsympathetic, look-over.
Horakthy wonders what is wrong with this one? (looking at Jon)
Echen pads in from the woods, looking curiously at the assembly around the fire. What's happened, here?
Sepdet lowers her eyes. Not really her place to say.
Jon Nomad's eyes regain a measure of what used to be their customary calmness, and he sighs. He shakes his head, though what that's in response to is anyone's guess.
Horakthy pads over to Jon. ~Peace.~ he says calmly.
Oaken smiles up at Echen a little brittily. "More fallout from last week, tribesman. Jon was sleeping, and woke himself up."
Sepdet looks up with some relief as Echen's approach, nods. Echen-rhya. She glances over at Jon. ~Troubled dreams for that one, or so I guess.~
Jon Nomad says, tone surprisingly composed, ~War. A battle like any other.~
Echen narrows his eyes thoughtfully at Jon, one ear still pricked towards Oaken. No two battles are ever the same, Uktena.
Oaken sighs a little, looking at Jon. "You haven't watched "Nova" enough, silly, or you would know we're pack animals. War is a group activity; I'll help you any way I can. You know that. We all will."
Jon Nomad ~No? There is victory. There is loss. One stands, or one falls. The battlefield and method make no difference to it, Fianna.~
Sepdet's ears twitch at Echen's tone. She is still unsure how others deem it appropriate to regard Jon; for herself, it is sad respect.
Horakthy nods in agreement with Oaken. Such is the way of the Garou. ~You will never forget your battles, but you will continue.~ he says to Jon, almost sadly.
Jon Nomad nods, tone weary. ~I will continue~ he echoes. ~I made that promise long ago.~
Echen sits back on his haunches and regards Jon with calm, sad eyes. I tell you true: the battlefield and the method *do* matter. And my fear gaoill... he speaks truth.
Horakthy's ear twitches slightly, ~But you need not continue alone, as has been told you. Remember that.~ he says in an inscrutable voice.
Oaken sighs again and, leaning against Jon, turns back to Horakthy. "You were about to tell us, I hope, where we might find this Gak-thh?"
Archer has connected.
Jon Nomad makes no answer. He shivers slightly. Despite those near him he sits alone.
Archer pokes up his nose.
Sepdet nods at Archer, tilting her head back to her Elder.
Archer mmms. Practically warm out.
Horakthy's seriousness returns (though you weren't really sure he was ever _not_ serious) ~I suspect he will leave a trail in the city, but I have not yet seen...the newspaper. He will be looking for the local Hive.~
Echen narrows his eyes slightly. If he's found them, he's begun to leave this trail already.
Horakthy's eyes turn to Echen, ~How so, Echen?~
Oaken hmms. "He struck twice, and has been silent since. The targets were odd; a mage and a vampire hunter. Why would he go after them, would you think?"
Horakthy seems intrigued, ~A vampire hunter? That makes no sense. The mage I understand, a mage would feed the fetish for a long time. I am surprised that he found a mage so easily, though.~
Oaken nods, looking a little alarmed. "I am, too...feed the fetish? What exactly is happening?"
Echen paces around the fire in a wide circle, eyes dark. There have been a number of murders in the city, in the past few months. Recently they stopped for a time; two nights ago, one of our number had a dream in which she saw a terrible Bane and a mottle-furred, malformed Garou... a Dancer. She awoke and returned to see if her pack was alright. They found two more corpses, she and her pack. Murdered the same wasy as all the others.
Horakthy says, ~Gah-thkk would know how to disguise the cause of death or the sleep-of-death, usually. His companions may be more careless.~
Oaken looks up at Echen. "The Crinos Tox saw in her dream doesn't match the description of this one, my kin. And neither are the slashings in any way like the drained bodies we found."
Echen stops, mid-stride, and turns to face Horakthy. If this Gak-thh has fallen in with the Dancers we knew were here, this may be the beginning of the 'trail' you speak of.
Horakthy notes that he does not know what the companions of Gah-thkk look like, save for the fact that one is fat.
Echen lifts his shoulders in a shrug. Tell me more about this fetish of his.
Oaken looks at Echen. "We know the name of Gak-thh; has a Ritual of the Questing Stone been tried yet?"
Echen glances over at Oaken. I don't know. I don't know that Rite. I'm not sure I know anyone who does.
Oaken says "Erik does; Stormcrow might, but he wouldnt confirm or deny; you know him."
Horakthy answers Echen's (and earlier, Oaken's) question, ~The fetish is very old, and feeds on souls...what the magi call avatar.~
Oaken shakes his head. "Alex, not Erik. Sorry." He listens politely again.
Echen draws back slightly, eyes darkening. From whence does it come?
Horakthy seems to pause in thought, as if contemplating something he does not want to say. ~It is..an old and twisted fetish that should have been destroyed long ago.~ he says finally, in an almost tired tone.
Near the Pool, Thorn appears in a glimmer of light.
Echen nods slowly. But from whence does it come? Is it a Bane fetish? What?
Near the Pool, Thorn looks about, orienting himself.
Nightmare has connected.
Echen's eyes flick towards the pool; he smiles warmly and takes a step back from Horakthy.
Horakthy reaches out a paw to touch the earth quietly, ~Once, a long time ago, it was a fetish of the Garou.~
Horakthy looks up and whuffs a greeting to Thorn.
Near the Pool, Thorn heads into the center.
At the center, Thorn heads northeast to the fire pit.
Thorn has arrived.
Oaken sucks in breath, listening. He smiles up at Thorn, though.
Thorn nods, smiling a greeting at the others.
Nightmare stirs, waking, and sits up. ~Morning,~ he chuffs.
Sepdet shakes her head as if to clear it of a cobweb of fever dreams, and nods to Thorn-rhya respectfully.
Archer asks Horakthy if he knows of good ways to destroy it. Could one crush it with a club, or would that not work? Assuming one captures it.
Nepthys pads off to guard the caern.
Nepthys heads into the center.
Nepthys has left.
Oaken says "And what of the spirits currently within? Is there a way to save them?"
Horakthy does not know what would happen to the spirits within. The skull may be destroyed by throwing it into the Abyss, perhaps, but that would doom the spirits within. Yet, there may be another way.
Oaken leans close, eager.
Thorn listens curiously.
Archer orients his ear appropriately.
Horakthy sighs. ~A magi I knew once said that the force of entropy could possibly unravel it, but we never had a chance to try. We could never get close enough to it.~
Echen takes another step back from Horakthy, and shifts.
Echen contorts and blurs as he is transformed.
Echen shifts into Homid form.
Oaken sits back, a little disappointed. "This is a spell they can cast? Or do we set it close to a radio and tune in Rush Limbaugh?"
Thorn asks, ~Maybe a Wyld Vortex?~
On the western curve, Toxic works her way free of the dense treeline to the west.
On the western curve, Toxic heads into the center.
Oaken raises an eyebrow at Sepdet. Nice thought.
Thorn looks up as Toxic arrives, and he smiles.
Archer greets Toxic.
At the center, Toxic looks once around the perimeter of the Wheel before heading on over towards the fire.
At the center, Toxic heads northeast to the fire pit.
Toxic has arrived.
Horakthy nods approvingly as well. ~As I said, she never really specified, and we never had a chance to try.~
Sepdet whuffs a happy greeting to Toxic-rhya.
Horakthy whuffs a greeting to Toxic as well.
Thorn steps over to Toxic and whispers something to her.
Toxic nods. "Hola everyone. Horakthy-rhya. I hope you are well?" She looks over to Thorn and Echen..
Oaken stands. "Thank you for this counsel, Horakthy-rhya. If all would excuse me, I must get some sleep before tonight."
Oaken follows the Wheel west, away from the fire pit.
Oaken has left.
Horakthy is well, and yourself?
Toxic says "Take it easy, Oaken."
On the northern curve, Oaken turns to the north, and leaves past the rim of the Wheel.
On the northern curve, Oaken emerges from the thin treeline to the north.
On the northern curve, Oaken turns back and retreats east to the fire pit.
Oaken has arrived.
Oaken heads into the center.
Oaken has left.
At the center, Oaken heads south, away from the center of the Wheel.
On the southern curve, Oaken heads south, out of the Wheel and into the forest.
Toxic shrugs. "M'alive. Hadda coupla more killings in my pack's territory last night. We're seen him inna dream and we're arming up for th'bastard."
Sepdet sighs. ~Even if Rite of Binding could be reversed, one would need to be close to it. One must still destroy the bearer first.~
Horakthy nods to Toxic.~At some point I should like to accompany your pack in the search.~
Sepdet growls softly at Toxic's not unexpected announcement.
Archer wishes Toxic the best of fortune.
Horakthy considered at one point, a LAW rocket, but has since discarded the idea.
Thorn's brow furrows at Toxic's news.
Toxic tilts her head to the side, "We're not actively hunting, yet. We're prepping to. Claw's given us one Dancer azza assignment, Swaim, but we gotta 'nother one stalking our territory and cutting kinfolk t'ribbons, and -then- we've got this nemesis a'yaz witha crystal skull.
Archer hrms to Toxic. ~Cutting to ribbons, you say?"
Horakthy just described Gah-thkk for the company present.
Archer continues, ~As if he had blades instead of claws?~
Toxic looks over at Archer intently. "S'what he looked like, yeah. I've got no patience on this matter. Whaddaya know?"
Horakthy finds _that_ intriguing. He whuffs, ~That's not Gah-thkk's usual style.~
Toxic says "S'not Gah-thkk, like I said, we've got two more and -then- we've got Gah-thkk. My pack's dance-card is -damned- full right now."
Sepdet growls at the thought that there may be even *more* of the /sau-sutekh/ dancers about.
Archer informs Toxic. ~That's The Kinslayer, a renegade Shadow Lord. The Wyrm supposedly gifted him with blades for claws when he turned against his pack and sept. Or so the legend goes.~
Echen smiles slightly. "Call me, maybe, if yer feelin' overwhelmed."
Horakthy sees the city is rather...crowded. ~Describe these other two to me? Kinslayer, you say?~
Archer has often thought about getting him within his sights.
Toxic frowns at Archer. "He's been carving Shadow-Lord sigils inna th'foreheads of a lotta his victims."
Horakthy growls faintly at that.
Archer nods to Toxic. ~I would be honored to make myself of assistance to you in this matter, while respecting your territory.~
Archer is theoretically a decent hunter.
Horakthy says to Toxic, ~Let me know when your pack hunts, Toxic.~
Toxic nods slightly in Echen's direction. "I donna know if it's this Kinslayer or not, but he likes taking core samples outta people. Garou. Fairly big in crinos. Claws longer'n th'rest of his hands that reflect th'light."
Archer could be wrong, but what are the chances?
Toxic nods to Horakthy. "Will do. I want a coupla days t'train'em first...This guy's never struck twice inna same week."
Archer curls back up to sleep.
Archer has disconnected.
Horakthy stares into the fire and seems lost in thought.
Judith has arrived.
Toxic nods to Judith and mumbles something to Thorn.Sepdet dips her eyes. ~Judith-rhya.~
Judith wanders in, shoulders hunched against the wind. "Shalom."
Horakthy whuffs an absent-minded greeting.
Porthos has connected.
Judith suddenly realizes she's been carrying Toxic's e-mu around for days, and OOCly hands it back...
Porthos whurfles in his sleep, then rolls over and lifts a bleary-eyed countenance.
Echen smiles slightly at Judith and Porthos. "Hey."
On the southern curve, Annie comes in from the woodland to the south.
Porthos blinks at Echen. 'Mornin'.
On the southern curve, Annie heads into the center.
Porthos contorts and blurs as he is transformed.
Porthos shifts into Homid form.
Echen chuckles quietly. "Half-hour ago, maybe."
Thorn smiles a greeting to Judith and Porthos. His smile widens as he sees Annie arriving.
At the center, Annie hurries over to the fire pit.
At the center, Annie heads northeast to the fire pit.
Annie has arrived.
Annie says "Hiya, Freak. Sorry I'm late."
Thorn smiles, "Sokay."
Porthos picks up one of the blankets scattered around him and slips it around his bare torso.
Toxic says "Yo, Jumps."
Thorn nods, "Chaser couldn't come, so I need someone else to help..." He looks about.
Annie says "Traffic was a bitch before the bridge. Some doit banged up a real nice rig. Hiya, Toxic."
Annie says "What'd y'want of me, Freak?"
[OOC] Horakthy has to go. Bye folks, see ya soon.
Sepdet smiles solemnly at Annie, trying to place her in the myriad of folks she's met in the last week-and-a-half.
Horakthy has disconnected.