Somewhere in the Cascades
The snowline this year is well above the lower slopes of the Cascades, here draped in a tall dark blanket of lodgepole pine and Englemann's spruce. In a cleft halfway up the mountainside, cut by ancent torrents now reduced to a half-frozen trickle of a stream pattering between rocks, a small stand of white aspen huddles in the clear space left by an avalanche many years ago. The jumbled forms of rocks and more recent slides pile up around them, and set down in the rocks, a small fire is blazing, and a few shadowy hunch forms tend it.
Contents:
Sinshan
Wandering Jim
Bradley
The Striders from the Hidden Walk arrive by moonbridge.NPC @descs Ibis
He-Who-Scans-Ground is a gaunt, beak-nosed, bespectacled old man with a shock of thinning iron-grey hair drawn back in a ponytail from his blotched brown forehead. His sharp jaw juts out from a long wrinkled neck, and wrinkles too work stories into his leathery face and add burdens around his deep gray eyes. He is garbed in a somber brown leather vest, an incredibly venerable oxford shirt that may have been white once, and dusty bluejeans; his gnarled feet are jammed into broad suede-strapped tan sandals. The hilt of a short curved knife protrudes from a sheath sewn into his vest, and a large amulet, an ebony Eye with a polished red stone set in its center, rests on his chest. His whispery dry voice is in constant dischord with his movements, trailing off as his eye seizes on something and his restless pacing halts, or else falling into regular, didactic tones as he jabs at the air with a finger or pokes intently at some nearby object.
Just now Ibis seems to be suffering from a recent injury; his right hand and the side of his face are burned and blistered, and he moves sparingly and stiffly.Wandering Jim
Silent and self-contained, isolated in any crowd, this tall, powerfully-built man has the same palpable, remote presence as the Great Sphinx. He is presently garbed in tough old boots, a gray woollen robe not unlike a Franciscan monk's with hood drawn up, and a scarf across the lower half of his face. All that's visible of him are tanned, articulate musician's hands, a forehead with lines that suggest middle age, and piercing black eyes that hold some inner sorrow.Bradley
A freckled, sunburned boy with sandy blond hair and a 49ers jacket, Bradley is a long, lanky fourteen year old with broad shoulders beginning to fill out under an evident recent growth spurt. He's cheerful, friendly, but rather shy in crowds, and tends to sit hunched up in a tangle of limbs, blue eyes slurping everything in. If a golden retriever were to don jeans and Air Jordans, it might look like Brad. He carries a thumb harp and tends to fidget with it, much to the irritation of his elders.Sinshan
A well-groomed middle-aged man of obvious Hindi descent, Mr. Sinshan looks a little out of place in most Garou gatherings. His white beared is well-trimmed, his black hair brushed neatly, and he usually wears a dark business suit with a satin scarf for a necktie, pressed slacks, and patent leather shoes (which must be fetishes to stay in such good shape over the territory he covers). He even completes his ensemble with an expensive-looking briefcase.
Sepdet has arrived.
Collin has arrived.
Seeker has arrived.
Ibis is waiting for them in a small black circle of stones set some yards away from the small gathering of Striders keeping vigil this night. The group is much sparser than last year, but most of the faces are familiar.
Ibis does not speak to them until the last of them has stepped onto terra firma, and he has sealed and closed his end of the gleaming bridge. When the last glimmer is gone, he straightens, bows to them crisply, and says formally, "Children of Owl and children of the Mists. Well come."
Seeker nods to the Striders he hasn't yet met. "I am Seeker, born of the full moon."
Sepdet takes her uncle's hand and walks over to the fire. Apparently she knows all three of them, giving a salute to the silent Jim and a ~Well met again,~ to the other two, but introductions are exchanged since this meeting is formal. ~Sepdet Swims through-Silver, Strider Seer.~
"He-Who-Scans-Ground, Ibis, Crescent Moon. Sometime teacher to this pipsqueak," Ibis returns crisply as he takes his post standing behind her.
Standing tall, Collin beams towards the other Striders and lifts a hand and waves. "She calls me Pez," he points at Sepdet, "Dispenser of Wisdom. Also known as Collin. Oh yeah, and a RAgabash too. Hi, ya'll."
Mr. Sinshan greets them politely: "Nakimi Sinshan, Philodox, liason between us and the Glass Walkers of the Silicon Lands."
Bradley, the second familiar face, hops to his feet with a wave and a friendly, "They made it!" before remembering himself under a sharp look from Ibis. "Bradley. Crescent. Apprentice to Scans-the-Ground." He blushes behind his freckles. "I haven't done anything yet for a name."
The third rises to his feet silently and bows. He does not say a word, and seats himself again.
Sepdet introduces that one herself in hushed tones. ~This is Wandering Jim. Galliard adren. He travels the world with the people of the sun, whom the humans call Cirque du Soleil.~
Seeker glances at Sepdet and nods.
Seeker says "Sepdet has told us much about you, Ibis-rhya. It is good to meet you."
"That'll change. How about 'Cheeks-Of-Crimson?" Collin peers at the teenager who's as of yet 'unaned'.
Brad sticks his tongue out at Collin furtively, eyes skipping towards his mentor. "I just finished my rite. Gimme a break."
Ibis says crisply, ~Old Guertie has disappeared,~ referring to the wizened old bird who was leading the Rite last year. ~A tale for another night. Now, what is it you needed to talk to us about? Feralia awaits; we cannot spend too long talking.~
Sepdet looks towards Collin and Seeker, expression grim. ~Visions. And I'm not the only one who's had them this time. Even Pez is getting calls from Owl.~
Collin says "Yeah! You know it's bad when he's talking to me. I mean, normally he only comes to me take a crap on my head. When he's actually here to *say* something, it's gotta be important."
Seeker looks around at the gathered Striders. "A few nights ago I had a strange dream. I was walking on a beach when I saw a waterspout, a tornado over the water. Itcame toward me, and as it got closer I saw that it was made of bodies, or at least their remains. They were human, but deformed and twisted, some with claws and teeth. I could only stand and watch until it was upon me, which was when I woke. I have been pondering it since, but I cannot say what it meant."
Brad repeats, finally sifting through all the talk of his elders, "Pez." He shakes his head, grinning.
Mr. Sinshan sits up straighter, listening to Seeker intently.
Seeker says "It it is an omen, it is a dark one, as if the dead are about to rise. The fact that I could only stand and watch seems to say that I will be unable to stop this...whatever it is until it is too late."
Sepdet regards Seeker intently as well. ~Did you recognize where you were?~ she asks urgently.
Seeker shakes his head. "A beach somewhere, that's all I know."
Bradley makes a face. "Yuck. How'dya know it was the vampires, though?"
Seeker looks at Bradley. "I don't."
Sepdet's shoulders hunch. ~We have other signs. Some weeks ago, a child of Bast who is also kinfolk to us sent us a warning: the voices which speak to her say that the Ancient Ones are stirring in Khem once more, returning to their great folly. They are trying to rouse an ancient evil from its slumber. _That_ warning could not be any clearer.~ She looks from one to the other, teeth bared. ~Set is coming back.~
Ibis looks towards the Striders of the Walk with brow furrowed, although evidently most of this is known to him. Shock registers in the faces of Bradley and Sinshan: Jim is silent as before.
Seeker nods and looks around. "That must not happen." He looks around at the others. "Have you seen signs like these? Or do you know what they mean?"
Sinshan looks dismayed. "Nothing like this." Bradley, too: "Geez." As for Jim, he watches impassively.
"You called me asking about an archaeologist named Schultz," Ibis says slowly. "But I am not certain whether his death is connected, or a coincidence. I have done some searching about his dig site, as you asked. By all accounts, however, his death was an unfortunate accident. I did more checking about the pack of Striders found killed there. Amarna-rhya sent an expedition to investigate. The bodies were found gnawed and chewed, but had been dead some days, so that was probably scavengers' work. our scouts searched the whole region quite thoroughly, however, and there is nothing out of the ordinary there."
Seeker glances at Sepdet. "Amarna-rhya told you that?"
Sepdet snorts. ~Amarna-rhya has more important matters to attend to than to keep a mule Fostern appraised of things back home,~ she says. ~And does not believe my warning. But listen. I had a vision the night before last, very similar to Seeker's.~
Seeker's eyebrows lift in surprise at Sepdet. "Was there anything other than what I saw?"
Sepdet stares at the fire. ~Shepitra was there. I was walking with him on the banks of the Nile--I could smell the mud, and the reeds, although I cannot see the river clearly. But suddenly there was an explosion, and a vast cloud rose, the Wyrm's, shaped like a great tree with a long trunk below and a canopy of smoke bulged out above. The clouds go black, and a storm rises, a storm with faces riding the wind. And Shepitra ran. He _ran_!~ This seems to be the part that scares her most. ~Shepitra is ancient, one of the firstborn priests of Ra. He is kin, but he is greater than any of us. He has sent me warnings before. If he is afraid, I am afraid.~
Seeker looks at Sepdet. "Was it a mushroom cloud, like a nuclear explosion?"
Sepdet shakes her head at Seeker. ~I don't know. I've never seen one.~
The answer comes unexpectedly, mentally, a quiet whisper in the minds that has a male presence behind it. Jim is staring straight at Sepdet, and his words-without-voice pronounce clearly: Yes. That is what she is seeing.
Sepdet adds softly, ~And Owl has warned Collin a storm is coming. And I have spoken too with a Dreamspeaker. She felt it. Even she. She asked me what had happened last night. She said she felt a great disturbance, spirit-voices crying out in pain and fear, a terrible shifting in the umbra. She did not know where.~
Seeker pages to the room: I feel a great disturbance in the Force...
Sepdet pages to the room: That's what Chloe paged us. :)
Mr. Sinshan licks dry lips. "Dear gods."
Sepdet steps to the edge of the firelight. ~The signs are screaming to us. Let there be no doubt: the minions of Set are trying to raise him, if they have not already done so. Perhaps they will use the power of the atom furnished by the unwitting humans. And yet Amarna's scouts found nothing.~ She gives her old mentor a bitter glance. ~You and Wandering Jim must warn her-- she will not listen to the fools of the Hidden Walk. But we must do something. And tonight is Feralia. Tonight, we run around the world. Tonight, a road is open that opens no other night of the year.~ She looks to Collin and Seeker. ~Tonight, we must go to Khem, and see for ourselves what is happening before it is too late!~
Seeker nods. "I agree. We must find out for ourselves. We cannot rely on second-hand information."
Ibis's right hand shoots out and grasps one pointed ear of the pontificating young Harbinger. "Now, just hold on a moment, Little Star." He ignores her yelp as she twists out from under his fingers. "Hold on. How many times have I told you to look down the road before you dash? We may be facing Set as you say, but using Feralia as a moonbridge is twisting the Rite's purpose! The Path of Painted Stones is a one-way road. You can't hop off and on it as if it were a train."
Bradley looks a little pale under his freckles, eyes darting from one elder to the other.
Sepdet looks back at Seeker. ~But we can't just sit here on the banks watching the flood come down on us. That's what we _always_ do. Watch. Wait. Take notes. Let the world fall down around our ears. We've got to learn whether it's true! We've got to make Amarna-rhya see what's happening, and get help!~
Ibis says firmly, "But not this way. Not this road. Listen to me, little Harbinger. Your heart is always bigger than your brains. You know the danger of Feralia as well as anyone--haven't you already lost one elder to its trial? No, two! And you nearly lost Anubis-rhya, the year before that. You have to run at least one circuit of all of Gaia before you can even think of stepping off. Can you run half as far again? Can you find the right stone to step out onto the desert sands in Khem? Can you judge as you run for your life which of those stones does not belong to the Eaters of the Dead?"
Seeker reconsiders as he listens to Ibis. "He's right, Sepdet. Now is not the time. But the time will come, and soon."
Sepdet slumps. ~I don't know.~ Anger flares in her eyes. ~When? And how? Tell me that. We have been given too many signs already, and done too little. Show me another road.~
Bradley clears his throat. "This is all way too big for me, but...what about that guy you had Ibis and me look up? He's connected to alla this, right? Sepdet-rhya said she thought he'd dug up something he shouldn't have, and maybe he woke something up. And that pack disappeared there, too, yeah? Well, do we know what this Schultz guy was digging?"
Silent for once, Collin listens to the lecture of the older Strider given to his normal elder. He leans over and nudges her with his elbow, "At least, for once, I get to see *you* get whacked lightly across the nose with the newspaper and it's not me." He shifts a little, then blinks. "Schultz guy?"
Seeker looks at Bradley. "He was an archaeologist at the university in St. Claire. He was killed in Egypt. We don;t know yet what he was looking for."
Sepdet's temper and stress get the better of her for a moment, but unlike some other unnamed Garou alphas, she doesn't take it out on people. She simply falls silent, taking a few deep breaths, and lets Seeker answer.
Can't always blame them for that. There *is* that whole 'raaaage!' factor. Collin eyes Sepdet, but leaves her alone for a moment, "I'll see wht I can find out. He's from Saint Claire, huh? Why does that just figure fuckin' right." He shakes his head, thne looks up towards the sky.
Mr. Sinshan still seems more focussed on the disturbing visions, and looks rather pale himself, but ventures timidly, "If he was based in your territory, perhaps you could avail yourself of his office and papers?"
"Wouldn't be a problem for me," Collin agrees. "I'll check it out once I can figure out where his office was, but the chances that the cops haven't already looked through everything, depending on what happened to him, is slim, but maybe they left something behind if they did." He huhs.
Seeker says "I had one of our cubs looking into it, but I don't know what he's found yet.""
Sepdet snorts. ~Spider, you mean. We should not leave the fate of our world on his shoulders.~
Seeker glances at Sepdet. "At least he's doing *something*."
Sepdet looks chagrinned. ~Yes. Yes, he is. I'm sorry; I'm very tired,~ she confesses.
Ibis pats Sepdet's shoulder quietly. "Yes. I have a small proposal, Little Star. You have mentioned a number of problems occurring at your little caern--of no import compared to Set, but they are _your_ problems. Why don't you finish sniffing out this matter of the Professor at your end before going dashing off to Khem with a single scout and fighter? And I shall take Bradley on a little journey. It is high time he saw something of the homeland, or what's left of it. We shall poke around, and if we discover anything, perhaps we can send word."
Sepdet sways slightly at Ibis' touch. She does look tired, in fact--not that this is anything new, but it is unusually pronounced this evening. She glances from Seeker to Collin, wind stripped from her sails. ~What do you think?~
Collin rubs his hands together at that. "Shouldn't be a problem, like I said. Let them do their thing. We have enough on our shoulders already to make Atlas say 'ow!', okay?" He grins, then runs a hand through his hair, sweeping his bangs away from his eyes.
Seeker nods. "A reasonable plan."
Sepdet nods slowly. ~Yes. Yes, this is sense. I should tell Sirocco; she was going to try and meet us in Karnak if we went tonight.~ She looks relieved, yet unnerved as well. ~Collin, I will come with you to search on this Professor, if I can. But do not wait for me if you go and I cannot be found.~
"You should teach me the Questing Stone. Then you won't have any excuse not to be found." Collin points at her.
Mr. Sinshan clears his throat. "If this is decided, I beg your pardon, but there is a Rite we have met to perform."
Sepdet gives a small weak laugh at Collin. ~Then I'd never have a moment's peace.~
Ibis gives his older apprentice a thoughtful look. "Little Star, are you strong enough to lead the Rite tonight? I fancy you have been doing something to yourself again."
Sepdet shakes her head. ~Just give me a little help, Uncle, and lead the others if I slip. With Jim-rhya's permission.~ She bows respectfully to the silent one. ~Are we ready, or does anything else need saying?~
Braldey sits up straighter, biting his lip. It will be his first time, of course, and he looks very nervous.
Collin pshaws at Sepdet. "You better not slip." He points at her, "I'll be forced to, like.. be real sad or something. And you don't want that." He grins, then looks towards Bradley and says, "Don't worry, it'll be plenty fun." Yeah. Sure it will.
Ibis draws his knife and takes his place beside Sepdet at the circle, motioning everyone to rise and gather around. The young cliath complies with a serious expression, Sinshan and the Wanderer with almost no expression: this is a familiar ritual for them.
Sepdet takes a long breath, closes her eyes, and puts her hands into the coals of the fire. From it she removes a small black bowl, and a flat stone. Her voice is soft, musical, and firm when she speaks again. ~Tonight is the Rite of Feralia, where we run with our ancestors and listen to their words. Tonight, we speak of the death of the world, the destruction of all, and the hope we have for what lies beyond it.~
The bowl, though it has sat within the fire, seems to hold a dark liquid: it could be blood, but the color and consistency are a little wrong.
Seeker gives Sepdet a look as if to say 'You better not try any stupid suicidal Sepdet-type stunts tonight.'
Collin ponders for a moment, "Now that Alexandra's gone, does this mean that you've reclaimed your title of Strider-McNugget?" He peers at Sepdet.
Sepdet ignores Seeker's glance and Collin's goad, focussed now on her work (or else using it as excuse not to answer). She meets each of their eyes in turn, holding up the small vessel before the fire. ~The bowl holds sap, mud, and the blood of the Striders. So we are one with Gaia, and she with us. The Apocalypse is nearly upon us. It is time now for each of us to speak of one sign we have seen in the last year, that warns of its coming.~
Ibis slices a fingertip neatly and then puts the knife away, adding his own blood to the mixture without explanation (for this is not customary) as he takes the bowl gently from his young relative's hands. "I have seen the passing of one of our oldest and wisest, not to battle or the enemy, but to convictions that blinded her to the counsel of friends or the whisperings of common sense. We cannot afford to lose Gaia's warriors on wild goose chases." His voice is very dry indeed as he ritually paints the flat rock with blood from the bowl and then passes both to Bradley.
Bradley gulps. "Um. I saw a lot of cubs who thought they knew better than their elders. And two've 'em are dead now, that should've been rited with me this year." He looks vaguely guilty, and stares at the fire for a moment before realizing everyone's staring at him. Quickly he fumbles to trace over the same sign as his master's, and then passes it uncertainly to Sinshan.
Mr. Sinshan considers the blood gravely. "I have seen a Walker caern strike an unholy deal with the Weaver, and bind itself in a web of its own folly," he says levelly, and passes it to the old one.
Wandering Jim takes bowl and stone expressionlessly. There are no words. Suddenly an image is cast in everyone's eyes, overlaid so that it appears to float in the flames. A huge cage, zoo animals lunging wildly against its walls: dogs, cats, birds, zebras, antelopes, elephants, but their forms blending together. This one with three horns, that one with three legs, a bird with the head of a grasshopper. They dash themselves frantically against the confines of their enclosure, bathed in a ghastly blue light. The reflections on the glass show white figures which might be humans in lab coats. The vision flashes, then fades.
Wandering Jim traces the sign of Striders and the Apocalypse upon the Painted Stone, and passes it expressionlessly to Seeker.
Collin jerks his head back at the images conjured before him, then gives his head a shake, "Yah." he mumbles.
From afar, to the room, Sepdet pulls shit out of her butt on the fly and buffs her nails. your turn.
Sepdet pages to the room: Mindspeak is scary in the hands of a pro. ;)
Seeker takes the stone, then draws his kopsh across the pad of his thumb and adds his blood to the others'. "I have seen the bonds and bridges between caerns weaken and break, heard news of the caerns themselves falling. The Prophecy foretold this. We must be united in the End Times, the ties between us must be strong, or we will all fall."
From afar, to the room, Sepdet nudges. Seeker gives Collin the goodies.
Collin's silent for a moment, obviously pondering on which event he should talk about. "I've seen the hospital in our city get worse and worse, people controlled by banes like puppet's on a string, children born of humen women, but barely humen themselves thanks to, almost without a doubt, the wyrm taint of that place." He reaches over to trace the lines with the mixture from the bowl.
Sepdet takes the Painted Stone and bowl back to herself. ~I have seen the power that gives light to a city explode, banes burst forth to engulf the city, houses burning and crumbling, people huddling with their precious lights gone blaming everyone but themselves while their children cry for comfort, humans turning against each other and using the darkness to pillage and prey on the weak.~
Sepdet sets the implements back in the fire which now burns blue and looks at each of the runners in turn. A torn ragged line of blue like a second moonbridge begins to appear over the campfire. But this sheds no light, and looks cold and sharp like an opening in a broken glass window.
Sepdet says, ~Come now, into the black world of the restless spirits. As we speak, the whole of our tribe leaps over Stones like ours the world over. In a very short time, we will run the entire circuit of Gaia's breadth. Whatever happens, do not stop, do not falter. Do not even wait for me--most of you know the way, and your feet are surer than mine. If you hesitate, slow, or veer from the path, you will be destroyed. Run as fast as you can, and go always westward.~ With that, she gathers herself and leaps, shifting to crinos as she vanishes into the opening door.~
Ibis throws himself after.
Path of Painted Stones(#1296RJ$)
A ribbon of grey smoke that feels like sand underfoot uncurls and snakes off into the shadowy distance. Hazy forms swirl around and pursue you in the shadows of the dark umbra which is neither warm nor cold, and a constant tumult of unresolved voices beats at your body like fierce winds scraping around the broken rocks of vast canyons. Yet the dusky murk never clears, and only rarely do you catch a glimpse of a half-seen dead face or the dizzying drop on either side of the spiderweb-thin arching pathway.
For a few moments, Collin stretches himself out, bending knees and getting 'revved up' to go, so to speak.
Sinshan follows smoothly rippling up to a lean gray crinos of princely bearing, although a definite trace of wild dog and wolf which bespeak of little in the way of jackal blood. Bradley waits until almost the last one's through, his golden retriever looks even more pronounced in crinos as he dashes to catch up. Wandering Jim carries up the rear, going immediately to hispo, a huge jet back shade that could almost give the late great Stormcloud a start, although far leaner and lither in form. Thunder cracks as the Striders begin the long night's run.
And they're off! Or at least Collin is. He's through and on his way, concentrating intently on what's ahead of him, on keeping that footing steady.
There is something different tonight about this run, at least at the beginning. The wraiths swirl, but the black fog of them is thin, sparse--you are acutely aware of the daunting length of this road, the glint of each stone as briefly you hop over one and into the realm, leaping it again to return to the next leg. The road is wide open for a thousand miles before your feet, and the tribe is there--thousands, many thousands of black shapes running on two legs and four, leaping, falling, leaping and lunging in an intricate dance five thousand miles long that wraps Gaia's whole globe.
Sepdet contorts and blurs as she is transformed.
Sepdet shifts into Hispo form.
Seeker shifts up and leaps through the gate. He hits the ground running with a great burst of speed, catching up to the others quickly.
Hope-Star stumbles early, feet nearly going out from under her, but is so used to falling by now that she only rolls forward and comes up on four legs. Old Ibis behind her may have grasped her unceremoniously by the tail to keep her on track, and now runs right behind her, towering over her like a scarecrow.
A lonely voice howls, distant and far away: "Fear the helix masters! Life's blood shapes itself beneath their hands!"
~Keep moving!~ Sinshan calls sharply. ~Do not be lulled by an open road! The Dead are following!~
Hope-Star lunges forward as a harsh wind batters them with the force of a sand blast, but the grains are bits of bone and ashes, scouring them of all thoughts, all memories, all weights, so that every atom of concentration must be focussed solely upon the motion of running and upon balance.
"Rollin', rollin', rollin' down the riiiiver.." Collin mutters that quickly as he keeps running. He doesn't even spare Seeker so much as a glance at the murmured comment he made to him, moving from one step to the next, eyes straight ahead.
Seeker races onward, keeping ahead of the ghosts that hound his heels. Ahead, the face of a woman, apparently human, forms. Seeker appears startled by it, but doesn't slow down. He runs closer to Sepdet and stays by her side on the path.
A child flashes by throwing something at Collin--a childhood friend from very human days, and a boy who's far too young to be dead. "Don't trust the tiger!" he crows mockingly. "She'll get you sooner or later!"
And so it goes. More faces, more echoes, but far fewer than in past years. There is a terrible aching stillness about the run this year, almost a calm compared to the frenzied howling onslaught that some remember. The road is long, and hard, and terrible, and bleak, but finally a blue light shines in the distance like a lighthouse.
Hope-Star howls raggedly. ~Steady! We're getting close! The last lap, my friends, the last lap! Throw your hearts into it!~
Collin blinks at the boy, almost tempted to glance back at him with puzzlement, but he steels himself and focuses. "Westwards ho, or eastwards in this case. Yeah." Run, run, run. Yeah. That works.
Seeker gathers himself for the last lap, mustering his remaining stamina for the end of the run.
Nemo has arrived.
Bradley is starting to stagger, but desperation is an amazing goad. Somewhere along the way Wandering Jim has vanished completely into the shadows, but no one saw him fall. They are making good time, indeed, and a strange exhileration like fire begins to build in everyone's veins even as their breath labors in their chests and limbs strain to the utmost.
Wandering Jim has left.
Nemo pages: Sepdet is here, right?
You paged Nemo with 'Right in the front.'.
Seeker pages to the room: Uh-oh. :)
You paged Nemo with 'Order being roughly Sepdet Ibis Collin Seeker Sinshan Bradley, if it makes any diff. We're all in crinos or hispo, unchanged @descs of a few objects notwithstanding.'.
Nemo pages: One more lap, then?
You paged Nemo with 'figuratively, since we only run around the world once. The end is in sight about a hundred miles away (distance being rather relative.)'.
Hope-Star seems to be having trouble with her old injury, and is running on raw willpower now, ears flat against her skull, feet flailing against the insubstantial ladder of bones that counts as a road in this bizarre world. She is almost blind to anything but the thin gray ribbon directly ahead of her feet, and no longer able to monitor those behind her.
Seeker, too, seems to be running on empty, exhausted but still going full speed. he keeps a watchful eye on his companions as the journey nears its end.
Another Painting Stone flashes by--another rock glistening with blood to be leapt over, the real world flashing before their eyes for a split second before Dark Umbra enfolds again. The last one before the end, for those that know this path from other year's journeys.
You paged Nemo with 'There. Your turn. Let 'er rip, I'm out of cool @emits. ;)'.
The road of bones beneath the group's feet goes over various terrain--hills, plains, even water flick by. In the midst of the dark figures streaming by, there is a sudden flash far off to the left, followed moments later by a strong shock wave and a loud blast. Collin half-stumbles in the powerful shock wave, and the leader falters for a moment in its strength. Even farther off to the right, as the continuing wave passes some point, there comes another flash, this one muted.
Nemo pages: Welcome to the dream.
Hope-Star suffers again the indignity of having her uncle lunge to grab her by the tail as she nearly topples into the abyss. Eyes wide with shock, it's all she can do not to slow down and see what on Gaia or off it has happened in that direction.
Ibis snarls, ~Listen and learn, but do not let your feet falter! Concentrate on the path!~
Thankfully able to catch himself, Collin doesn't turn back, but he does force himself to pay even *more* attention to the path, as well as his own footwork to maintain it, just in case there's any more 'incidents' like that one. Listen, learn, concentrate, run. "Fucking multitasking," Collin mumbles.
Seeker shudders and nearly loses his balance in the blast, but regains his footing and speed. He does as Ibis says, concentrating harder than ever on the path.
The golden retriever of a hispo carrying up the rear now is looking anyhow, and making a gasping whine in the back of his throat. Shit. Shit shit. Shit shit shit...
Another rumble, this one more of thunder than some other blast, comes from the site of the second flash; its strength sweeps over the group, merely rippling fur but also carrying a stench of corruption and putrefaction. The winds begin whipping even faster, and another rumble comes from the right, this time closer.
Hope-Star's ears splay and her head comes up. She tries to carry the breakneck pace but has to look too, at the risk of falling. She makes no sound as she tries to take in the foul scents and ghastly winds buffetting them. So close to home. Is this real? Is this vision? Both, in such a place, but will it shatter the link back to their starting place?
Seeker feels something familiar, similar to his dreams, and gives the briefest of glances towards the source of the second flash and the winds.
Ahead, the light beckons, ever closer, while to the right, the rumbling is much the same, approaching faster than the light. The clouds gather to the right, swirling, flexing, the winds rising as the skies somehow darken still more. Eerie laughter dances on the gusts now, while the promising light still teases and lures you ahead.
"'Ware the storm," Collin stares ahead of him, eyes flicking to the sides briefly, though he doesn't let himself slide or take a dive, but he does do that whole 'running' thing. Exhaustion iss easy to see in his steps and the way he's sweating and breathing.
Hope-Star is flagging, in spite of all her efforts. It's anyone's guess whether she's going to reach the beckoning blue light of their stone and tiny fire before she drops. Ibis runs behind her grimly, but in the end, each Strider is on their own, and he cannot carry her.
The storm has hit the road of bones behind, and is still expanding rapidly outwards; the bones blown every which way back behind this small group, and catching up with them. Just as Hope-Star reaches the light, the storm catches up to the Garou, and the young cliath in back loses his footing as the road crumbles beneath his back paws. He scrabbles for a moment, almost regaining his footing, but a pair of impossibly thin hands reach out of the storm and grab his hind legs, dragging at him.
Seeker manages to keep his pace up, but glances back at Sepdet as she slows. He continues on, however, bracing himself against the storm.
Bradley gives out a desperate howl. ~Master!~ and is lost from view.
From afar, Nemo sniffs. Bradley was cute, too. :(
Hope-Star pages to the room: Man. Ibis really has the worst luck with his apprentices. First Mafdet killed by a brujah, then Sepdet, then Golden Boy.
Collin pages to the room: Could be worse, Sepdet. He could of had me for an apprentice.
Ibis, surefooted all night long, stumbles as the young Garou's cry reaches his ears. The light is upon him too quickly for him to look back.
Hope-Star vanishes too in one final leap and is gone.
Hope-Star pages to the room: Through the portal of the Painted Stone, we hope.
Nemo pages to the room: Anyone else want to hit the portal, or would you rather gawk? :) I'll let people pose going for hte portal, at least. :)
Seeker turns to look again just before he reaches the portal, straining to see what's happening.
Gawk? Hell no. Collin's too busy, too busy running ahead towards the light, in the hopes that it's the Right Light, and not some portal to hell where he's going to get ripped into twenty different pieces. "Shit-fuck, fuck, shit." He looks back out of the corners of his eyes even as he goes.
Mr. Sinshan is behind Seeker, taking up the rear now, and has a fine view whether he wants it or not.
The winds sweep over the Striders as the storm hits right at the portal, blowing them through, though perhaps a bit less under their own power and more off-center than they would prefer. The storm itself holds the stench of corruption beyond death, and faces leer through the clouds as hands grab at the Garou even as they tumble through the portal. Everyone ends up back in the Realm as the candle snuffs out in the unnatural storm, but the foul smell is stillpresent, if diffusing, in the air.
Seeker lands in the Realm with a tump, sides heaving with effort from the run. He looks around to see who else made it.
Collin goes tumbling and then sits up, groaning. He immediately slumps back down, taking gasping breaths.
Hope-Star is huddled in a small heap next to the fire breathing shallowly, with Ibis standing there looking grim and shaken. Mr. Sinshan has shifted back to homid and is straightening his sleeves nervously.
Ibis counts heads as the last of the Striders tumble back into the Realm. ~Everyone in one piece?~ he asks quietly.
"Gah." That's Collin's oh-so-intelligent response. "Fuck. That always tires me out. But, yeah.. One piece."
Seeker sits up and nods, brushing himself off.
Ibis rises to his feet and faces the diminished group stonily. ~The Rite is concluded. We have survived another year, against the best efforts of our foes and the curse of Set.~ The words ring unusually true tonight, but Ibis is not one for sarcasm. ~Rejoice in the assurance that you have run the longest road, and none that you will face in the coming year shall be as dark. Take with you the memory of what you have seen here tonight, and ponder well the meaning of these signs.~ He shakes his head sorrowfully. ~And honor the dead.~
Seeker shifts to homid and rises to his feet shakily. He walks to Ibis and puts a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry for your loss."
You paged the room with 'How long does the stench of wyrm linger here?'.
Ibis looks levelly at the other Strider. ~I am sorry for Gaia's,~ he says remotely.
Nemo pages to the room: No more than a few minutes.
Collin wrinkles his nose a little, then sits back up again and rubs at his eyes. "That was..different." He shivers slightly, "First time I've ever seen someone get lost there, too. Poor guy."
Ibis talks with them for a small while, quizzing them on the glimpses which each of them caught as they ran, so that all may fix firmly in their minds what was seen this night. He seems disinclined to socialize, however, and once that's done, and they have recovered their strength enough to move, he returns to the circle of black stones nearby and opens the moonbridge to send them home. Sepdet must be carried.