2019.03.01 The Legendary Kobayashi Maru

The Legendary Kobayashi Maru
The epic quest into the Legendary Realm is concluded in an unwinnable fight. Will the pack swallow their pride and admit defeat? Continued from 2019.02.28 The Journey of a Lifetime Pt.2
IC Date	TBD
Players	Lleutrim, Aleksandr, Dragomir, Frost, Ryla, and Waziyata (ST)
Location	The Legendary Realm, Sept of the Wakened Wood
Spheres	Gaian Garou

Each smack of that hammer, electrifies old memories of a pack Alpha training cliaths for battle. Eye of the Storm snarls, and bides his time enduring the assault until there is a moment's hesitation. That's when he lunges forward, and snarls, >> Work together.. strike the same exact spot.. strip away his defense! << just as he once taught his pack in what seems like so long ago. (Fur Gnarl)

Then with a brutal rush forward, he lunges to grapple the Nergui off his mount, emitting a shriek like a Falcon in flight - blurring forward in his attack! The first attempt is barely missed, and in return Eye of the Storm barely avoids being hit by that hammer once more. Once more he lunges, with frustration and determination this time - and powerful arms snatch Nergui up and he rips him off his mount and to the ground. >> Mine! << he brutally declares, pulling the Fomori's arms back behind him as powerfully as he can and exposing him for the others to attack as he does so.

Even as the electrocution runs through him, Eye of the Storm snarls louder and clenches tighter - refusing to let go. The massive jaws of the Silvery White crinos snap down on the back of Nergui's neck, tearing away at it viciously - he's getting this head. But then his teddy had to die too soon, and the pack didn't get enough chance to practice tearing pieces out of him. Damn him.. hey, nice head!

Frost runs into range and sights on one of the riders, firing a crossbow bolt in between a gap in his armor. It sticks, poking out from where it found purchase, and without pausing Frost bends over to pull the string back and load another bolt into place.

Twilight's Glimmer is done dodging and goes on the attack! But just as she wants to bite, it seems the next wave of archers are ready to hit her. So dodge again! She rolls out of the way and is back ready to attack again - if the battle continues.

Lights the Darkness will always look for ways to heal. It is his primary function in many things. Giving life over taking it. Not neccesarily your average Garou, but he has his reasons and his purpose. Quick thinking has him leaping at Eye of the Storm, and placing a hand on the bloody bandages wrapped around him. His essence flows into them. The healing of the bandages flowing through Eyes of the Storm, knitting flesh back together, healing broken bones, and even strengthening his durability past even Garou lengths. That is the power of Gaia's magic's and the Theurge knows them well. He needs no other action as Eye of the Storm gets the giant Fomori under control. He turns then though, to face the oncoming tide, arrows flying and bouncing off his magical armor, as if toothpicks thrown from afar. He growls back at them all. The hunt is back on.

It's one hell of a fight! Snarling, Seinneadair Blàr keeps after their leader, Nergui! As that bastard with the silver hammer keeps trying to destroy Eye of the Storm, the Fianna Galliard goes after the fucker, working together with Waziyata! It's hard going and Battle Singer is unable to repeat his previous damage, snapping his jaws on armor but not flesh. The horse skitters and thrashes, bounced between huge wolves and is probably none too happy with no where to go!

It isn't until Dragomir is able to get a grip on Nergui, pulling him from his horse and grappling him that the situtation suddenly changes! Seinneadair Blàr once more tries to sink his fangs into the enemy, his teeth yet again catching nothing but armour plate. Then Battle Singer is far too busy having to dodge an arrows. Luna's armour and his own thick pelt keep him unharmed. Electricity crackles as lightning arcs around Nergui and makes the air smell of ozone, yet Battle Singer makes one last mighty lunge while Dragomir still has a hold!

/This/ time the Fianna's jaws lock onto Nergui's thigh and the huge dire wolf rips the muscle to the bone, blood gushing suddenly into his face! Seinneadair Blàr thrashes his head back and forth to rip Nergui's leg from his body - but not until Waziyata and Dragomir both have torn Nergui up pretty badly first! A joint effort! Nergui's dreadful hammer will fell no more!

As soon as the enemy's leader is down, Battle Singer lifts up his head into a howl - but it is words from a song that he howls over the battlefield:

>> Bold hearts and nodding plumes wave o'er their bloody tombs! Deepeyed in gore is the green tartan's wave! Shivering are the ranks of steel dire is the horseman's wheel! Victorious in battlefield Scotland the brave! Victorious in battlefield our packs brave! <<

Puddle Jumper snarls as she climbs back to her feet, then charges at the Fomori with the massive silver sledgehammer. She leaps in while the Nergui is distracted, biting deep through his heavy mail armor, sinking her massive jaws into him. Then she falls away, stepping aside for Battle Singer to lunge in and take his own bite of the creature. Then she throws herself in again, and again.

By the end, the Ahroun sinks her teeth into a dead man and gives a rough shake, adding another killing blow atop the one finally dealt by Battle Singer.

Rather than lingering and wasting the Rage coursing through her, the Ahroun simply throws herself onto the next Ganbataari in sight, ripping free a chunk of his leg as he rides past, nearly toppling him from his saddle.

<<NERGÜI IS DEAD!>> she howls <<PROTECT THE CAMP!>>

Nergüi's chuckle is short lived. It turns into a growl when the Silver Fang throws himself at the wyrm-twisted man. He steps aside, narrowly dodging the first attempt to grab him before slamming the hammer into the ground at Eye of the Howl's side as the Silver Fang lurches out of the way. Before the Fomori can properly retake his fighting stance, the Athro is charging him again.

The silver hammer comes up again, swung in a heavy arc to batter against the oncoming Garou's flesh, but the effort is ill timed and futile. The fomori is grabbed in a painful clinch. His body crackles with electricity and the stink of ozone burns the wolves' nostrils. Each bite they take from him gives off a crackle and spark of lightning, a sharp buzz or a crack as of thunder. But, it doesn't protect him well enough in the end. The Wyrm's legendary champion falls limp and dead, his head chewed half off by the Child of Eagle, despite his heavy armor.

As he dies, the forces of the Ganbataari begin screaming in emotion - rage, terror, exhiliration. Beast of War rides them, and even the brutal execution of their champion doesn't slow them. Instead, their efforts seem to redouble as the seven massive men who accompanied him take up their reins once more.

As one, they begin to chant: "Nergüi! Nergüi! Benim adim yok!" and they charge their horses, even as the second wave of archers peels to either side, turning to charge away after the first, a third in line to assault after them.

In other parts of the battleground, there is screaming and howling. The Hounds have been greatly strengthened by the aid given to them by the Physical Realm Pack, but they remain what they have always been - desperate survivors of a broken and defeated people. Their few warriors fight ferociously, killing Ganbataari, but already many of them have arrows piercing their flesh.

Behind the chaos of the frontline, flames dance wildly amongst the camp. Kin scream in terror, shout orders, and carry water to throw on the flames. Cunobelinus moves among them, using his Gifts to drop earth and water on the greatest flames. But even here, the Hounds of the Antlered one are outnumbered and outmanuevered. Even as they work to combat the flames, more torches are hurled by the enemy horde.

One bloody hand holding the head of Nergui gripped by claws as Eye of the Storm turns to face the others. Blood poured down his Silvery White chest as he snarls and starks to stalk towards them. The gleam of silver claws erupt from the tips of his fingers as he grows that much more angry with burning rage for combat. Attack after attack after attack are weighed against him, even the squarest of hits from one of the lances isn't enough to wound him. Arrows seem to bounce right off as he starts to move towards the battle once more, beginning to pick up speed like a steam engine. He bellows out a snarl, a warning of his pending charge!

Twilight's Glimmer watches the chaos around. The camp the battle. She hears the cries, the chanting. By now she knows exactly what they are saying, seeing as she speaks and understands the language. >> I have no name? They celebrate being no one? They are ready to die for their cause. << She hears Battle Singer's call and she does not even dodge this time! She pushes through and her teeth sink in on an archer - and down he goes! Ripping his head off, leaving him dead. DED. Eagle and Eye of the Storm will like this... another head.

After her howl has finished, Waziyata turns to square off against the in-rushing, charging men with spears. Her hackles raise and she snarls, before bounding forward and throwing herself at the first of the men. Her jaws close around his throat, crushing it and giving a hard, killing shake as she and the man tumble off his horse. They land with a sickening, squelching sound and rather than dying, the man gurgles and his wound partially reknits. Then he is rolling with the Ahroun, serrated claws sprouting from his fingers and flashing for her. She rolls with the strike, growling again.

Lights the darkness howls in pain as his claws form into silver. The howl of pain is directed into rage at the enemy though. Oddly, the Crinos does not attack with his claws, but instead with his huge jaws, attacking a rider on his huge horse and sinking teeth into his side as he rides past. An arrow sticks into him, as they exchange blows of the same form. He his moves to snap the arrow off, most of it tumbling to the ground. The frightening healing rate of the Garou starts to push to arrow head out, even as his wound begins to close. A snarl is turned onto the battlefield.

The howl is his focus for several seconds, Seinneadair Blàr lifting up his deep voice to carry over the battlefield far and wide! It is a howl of victory, to swell hearts with pride of success where they thought there could be no hope of it! A call to rally his pack members and the Warrior Hounds that the tide has turned in their favour! Full throated, it is a Galliard's call that sends tingles up the spines of many who hear it.

Arrows rain out of the sky, falling where they will - and one of them and then another strike the Fianna dire wolf! Battle Singer's thick pelt and his luminous Luna's armor help deflect but do not entirely stop the arrows from piercing his body! Pain makes him snarl and whip around, suddenly attacking those who are trying to end Eye of the Storm! For Seinneadair Blàr the fight resumes, lunging to try and take down more of the foe though these Ganbataari are yet hard to kill!

Frost sees Battle Singer take the pelting of arrows, lowering her crossbow to instead run into the thick of things. She slides to a halt next to him, reaching out to touch his side as she mends some of the wounds he's just received.

The second wave of archers wheel their horses about and gallop away toward the back of the battle, and the next group of them charges in, bows raised, arrows nocked, ready to loose.

Even as the battle rages, the dark begins to ease. At first, it may seem as if the sun is rising, but a glance at the horizon shows it as dark as ever at this hour. The reddish orange glow spreading across the battle is the flames of the Hounds' camp!

Even as the Garou from the physical realm continue their battle, the people of the tribe continue screaming, shouting desperately to one another. Battle Singer's song is inspiring, and they have more nerve left than the Physical Pack may have expected, but they are still frightened - and clearly losing the struggle to put out the fires as even more torches fly through the air.

At least, Cunobelinus charges out from among the camp, the Elder surging up to his war form and carrying a massive, double-bladed axe almost as big as he is. It is only the second time they've seen him take to the field, and both times the situation for his tribe was especially dire.

As he comes out with his packmates, a dazzling halo of sunlight ignites about him and he howls: <<Mighty Belinus - if ever I have served you, your loyal son, grant me your boons now! TURN THEM BACK, HOUNDS!>>

Legs spread shoulder-length apart, knees bent slightly - breathing steady. Eye of the Storm focuses, and growls out towards Battle Singer >> Get to the Camp, I will hold the line. << He reaches his silver clawed hand back and takes out the Crystaline Javelin, activating it to start to glow brilliantly. A steady one handed flourish begins, as the other clawed hand keeps hold of the Nergui head like a trophy he's unwilling to let go of.

The first attacker closes in, and Eye of the Storm parries away his attack with ease. The second attacked swings that silver axe, and the crinos Silver Fang whirls around and lobs his head clean off in a back-swing. The Warrior turns back and growls, >> You have no names.. but I am Eye of the Storm. Your death is mine to deliver! << The javelin head is flipped down, and he carves a sharp circle in the ground around himself in the dirt before whirling up to parry yet another incoming axe from behind him. Then another flurry and whirl to defend himself from another attack, once more slicing into an attacker.

He stops a moment to see the young Ahroun by his side, like he's about to yell at her - but sees she is holding her own. He gives the nod of approval before going back to defending himself once more. He grins, >> Pack. << He hoists the javelin forward, stabbing another one through the face and jerks the spear back quickly, watching it slump over and die. The bodies starting to pile up on the outside of the circle now. Another rapid arch of that glowing spear, and he cleaves another down the torso with a snarl.

Twilight's Glimmer sees the camp and chuff >> I have to go help! << She races back, and tries to dodge the arrows sent her way and thankfully they bounce off her silvery white fur as she runs! Frost listens, especially being in the thick of it as she decided to run in. As the call to fall back goes out she abandons her shot and turns to run. As the rider looses his shot at her she swiftly changes her path, just ducking out of the line of fire as the bolt whistles past her.

The battle isn't yet over and the Galliard's attempt to rally their side hasn't fizzled out yet, but then the enemy begins drawing silver axes - every damn one of them! Seinneadair Blàr looks over the field of battle and it becomes clear and very grim - they can't win this one. With regret and necessity, he lifts up his voice to howl for a retreat, >> FAAALLLLL BAAACCKKK! Silver weapons! Fall back! << No sooner has Battle Singer sung out than he sees Dragomir draw his crystaline javelin and hears the Athro's declaration of intent. The Fianna dire wolf acknowledges, seeing Dragomir has been healed, and then the Galliard begins to withdraw!

Seinneadair Blàr doges a silver axe swung at him deftly, then manages to get through a volly of arrows aimed his way - slick as you please without harm. But as he runs, dodging this way and that, another silver axe comes down unexpectedly in passing. It cleans into Battle Singer's back and side at an angle, cutting him down! With a yelp of surprise and pain, the Fianna goes down! Blood sullies his side, ribs cleaved open. The Galliard lies still except for his laboured panting.

Lights the Darkness growls, not wanting to turn and run, wanting to hold the line and fighting, just as Dragomir, despite being a Theurge. Call it Silver Fang honor. But he does listen to leaders in battle times. Sometimes the Litany is more important than anything to him, maybe always. He turns from the battle, swiping silver claws at one of the riders as he flashes by him, rending deep claws into that armor and tearing through it, but only the armor peels back, as he growls and makes for the camp. Catching a glimpse of an arrow being fired at Frost, makes him pause a half step as he might turn back and destroy whatever dared. Rage swells, but he handles it minimally, and looks about to turn to Frost, when Battle Singer falls. Speed, allows him to dive into the fray, putting himself amongst the charging riders as he scoops up Battle Singer's fallen form in one smooth motion and carries him, still on the retreat. Blood covering them both as his small wounds continue to mend slowly and the FIanna bleeds profusely all over him.

Puddle Jumper snarls, dancing and snapping amongst a swarm of attacking enemies. Silver Axes flash and slam alternately into the earth or her hide, but the Ahroun moves through the attacks unharmed. At Eye of the Storm's words, she only wags her tail, then turning to slam her shoulder forward into one of the howling, frenzied man's claw attacks, absorbing the blow between her magic armor and already tough hide. <<Pack.>> She agrees simply.

In the past year, in every battle that Dragomir has been last out of, the Ahroun has been only a little ahead of him. She withdraws, but more slowly than the rest, ensuring an opening for the Athro's own withdrawal each time. She clearly believes this is her proper place, helping bear the burden of the greatest piece of each battle.

Then, Battle Singer goes down and the lupus snarls. It distracts her in a pivotal moment, the Hispo glancing at her friend in the middle of ducking a claw, staggering snout-first into it instead. She growls in Rage, but doesn't lose her shit.

Instead, she spins about and looks at the remaining distance between her and the withdrawing back with a bark back to Eye of the Storm: <<They are back. Battle Singer is hurt.>> It isn't a hysterical report, though there is an edge of raw anger and fear in it.

She finally begins her own full withdrawal then, keeping her usual position halfway between Eye of the Storm and the remainder of the pack, growling her challenge to the onrushing, endless horde of Ganbataari. If the Athro doesn't withdraw this time, she will leave him just as she did during the night fighting the tentacle banes.

The Nameless Ganbatari throw their spears aside and draw silver axes, each of them calling out the same warcry: "Benim adim yok!" as they wheel their horses about and strike at the Garou.

The majority of them split their attention between Eye of the Storm and Puddle Jumper, striking again and again and again with Luna's Metal at the two warriors, trying their absolute damndest to kill them, but to no avail.

One of the Nameless Ganbataari breaks away from the rest on Puddle Jumper, his horse screaming as it runs to keep up with the withdrawing Garou. His silver axe whirls and flashes as it strikes at Battle Singer.

He strikes true, the silver piercing the already wounded Galliard's hide deeply. The man laughs, the sound bright and clear, almost shockingly so in the screams of Rage and battle. Then, without a thought for the falling Homid, he spins and strikes again at Waziyata.

As the first members of the Physical Pack to withdraw reach the camp, they find a wall of flaming carts and wagons before them. People scream, shout, cry out for help and to run. Through the smokey haze, many of the kinfolk can be seen running through the night, running for the cover of the nearby woods or just hell-bent down the trail the camp was going to follow in the morning.

Cunobelinus is not among them, he is not fleeing with his people. He stands amidst the battle like Dragomir, already bleeding from a wound, his elderly packmates gathered around him. They stand wounded, yet thus unbroken, amidst a sea of Ganbataari. Dozens of arrows rain down upon them, and another contingent of the Nameless Men do battle with silver axes of their own.

<<Protect the kinfolk! Our blood does not end this day. Seek my cousin to the west! Seek Cardeyn! THE HOUNDS LIVE!>> Is Cunobelinus's latest howl, as he continues his hopeless battle.

Another rank of Ganbataari archers charge their horses forward, relieving the last wave of archers, and this time there are monstrous wolves running alongside them. They howl as they come, glyph scars carved on their body glowing a sickly, bright green in the night: <<EATER OF SOULS SHALL HAVE HIS FILL TONIGHT! FATHER WYRM COMES FOR YOU!>>

Every one he cuts down, just more heads of the hydra come back. He turns his head to watch Puddle Jumper running after her fallen brother. Then he turns and sees long down the way the Elder fighting his last great battle. Perhaps in a way it is looking into a mirror, and then he realizes it. >> Defeat. << The lesson suddenly clear, and he growls at the realization. >> Lights-the-Darkness, get him up! He has to accept Defeat! << and Eye of the Storm turns his back on the oncoming horde and starts running after Puddle Jumper now.

>> The kinfolk are what matters! << the javelin kept close at hand, used to parry and protect himself as he runs now.

Eye of the Storm snarls, >> Battle Singer! Call the retreat! << he growls, and starts sprinting after Wazi. As the horsemen come to trample him down, he flourishes that javelin around. The first one is parried and the rider is wounded. The second one he kills. The third he wounds. Finally the last one he kills as a hail of arrows comes showering down on them. The shadow of the massive Black Spiral Theurge behind him, as the Wyrm pack closes in. One axe managing to scrape him with that silver and he growls out in pain.

In a last ditch effort to save his pack from death, he snarls out his Wrath of Gaia. It was perfect.. and yet, here it is meaningless. The Realm has swallowed his attempts, and all was for not. >> Fuck. <<, not a good time to learn something new about the Realm.

Lights the Darkness has LLeu, lugging the big Hispo along like a rag doll as he heads back away from the fight and to get the Garou to safety before he stops to heal him. Distance first. Then he's magically healed at the distance as his bandages talen seems to glow and the Hispo is let go off, able to run on his own now. This allows the Theurge to pick up Frost who is fleeing in terror and keep his body in front of hers in the retreat. The other arm scoops up one of the stragglers of the Fianna kin, far more important than protecting battle Singer now, he's making sure others get to safety, no protecting both kin with his massive Crinos body, just in case. There's no panic, thankfully, he's just moving quickly to get these kin out of the fight and away from the never ending wave of danger. Herding others towards the safety of the trees or wherever provides the best cover of the retreat. He growls, annoyed, he doesn't like to retreat, but he's smart enough to know what's important here.

Puddle Jumper snarls and throws herself back into the camp, tumbling through a wall of flames to land beside the wounded Lleutrim, even as Aleksandr is carrying the man toward the other end of the camp. She screams out a howl as she runs alongside the Theurge, twisting to slam her snout against the incapacitated Galliard mid-howl. <<UP! AWAKEN! UP AND STAND AND BE STRONG! THE WYRM WILL NOT WIN ALL DAYS!>> Her gift of Inspiration is felt by the group, rippling through them just in time for the enemy Galliard to give that shrieking howl. Then, Puddle Jumper turns and charges onward, throwing herself into running from the battle, chasing after the kinfolk who are already well on their way. Her scent reeks of terror, but she isn't frenzied - the Enemy's compulsion pushes her onward, shaming her, but she isn't alone.

Twilight's Glimmer hurries to help the kinfolk, and get them out. She realizes they are the most important here, to keep the blood going for these people. She does her best to calm and herd, and get them away from the baddies as they keep that onslaught going. Picking up a young one by the britches she helps get mothers and children out of here!

Frost buries her face in Light's shoulder as the wave of terror washes over her, shaking. Ever silent, it's a bit of a favor there's no screaming or shrieking on her behalf, just some probably uncomfortable fur tugging where she's holding on.

Seinneadair Blàr was dragged for some distance by Aleksandr and then gnosis applied by Waziyata to activate one of his Bloody Bandages. He comes to and the hispo is put down. It takes Lleu a second to gather his wits and realize what is going on. Back on his feet, he starts moving, >> I already did! << But he raises up his howl once more to repeat, >> RETREAT! We are DEFEATED! RUN! PROTECT the KINFOLK and CHILDREN! << Not a panic. Trying to encourage people to keep their heads enough to still have a goal - Get the fuck out but also salvage what they can of lives.

There is nothing else they can do here, now. Healled, Seinneadair Blàr runs as a dire wolf still (never having reverted to human form) and starts gathering what kin and children he can. A woman climbs on his back with not one, not two, but /three/ children with the help of a man who shouts for them to go! The Hound will fight while Battle Singer carries his mate and his cubs away ... to what they hope is safety. Terror drives even the Galliard to run for his life and the lives of those he is trying to save.

Today, their victory has turned into bitter defeat and much loss of life. Seinneadair Blàr prays to Gaia that his would-be packmates get out of this alive.

The forces of the Wyrm continue their relentless advance, the Ganbataari archers raining arrows relentlessly upon the camp's defenders. The Black Spiral Dancers, Wyrm Howlers as the Hounds name them, continue their advance, each in their twisted, bat-headed, glowing-green-scarred war forms. Charging ahead of the pack, one's form twists into an even more hideous thing - lizardlike with patches of scales mixed into the wolf's fur, eyes glowing a bright, shocking blue and form turning dark as pitch - darker than fur or skin - as an Avatar of The Wyrm takes form in the werewolf's flesh. Bigger and bigger it grows, until it towers over the battlefield, the form exaggerated in this Realm, twisted to absolutely absurd proportions - a titan striding ahead of the Ganbataari.

Standing half as tall as the Avatar are the other three bat-headed, green-glowing war forms. One charges out ahead, burlier and heartier than the rest, his claws turning to silver, noxious green slime foaming at his mouth as he screams seemingly mindless gibberish and throws himself on the remaining Hounds.

A sleeker, nimbler Crinos throws its arm out at Dragomir, but nothing happens. The beast snarls after him <<Run and hide! Suckle at the World Bitch's withered teat!>>

Above them all comes a rich, deep-throated howl in feminine voice. A long, shrieking, ululating howl singing praise for the Wyrm, beseeching Eater of Souls once again, begging the Father to reveal his Power in the battle. The sound sends a chill shivering down the spines of all who hear it, though some are strong enough to resist the mad terror it inspires.

Finally, now, the end of the battle begins. Cunobelinus burns bright as day and fights with the Black Spiral Dancers and a group of Nameless Ganbataari. He clutches two of their silver axes now, one in each hand, and he continues his own howl of defiance while facing his impossible last stand, his packmates dying at his side. <<PROTECT THE BLOOD OF THE STAG! LIVE FOR THE MOTHER OF->>

He goes suddenly silent then, the sound choked off into a guttural sound, as the massive Crinos closes his foaming maw around the Elder's throat, dragging him to the ground.

Twilight's Glimmer hears the calling out of Cunobelinus, and stops and howls! It is a mournful howl for the dead. She is not a Galliard, or a Theurge, but she knows it is a time to honor the fallen warrior. Afterwards she nudges more of the kinfolk to go, and keep going. >> Damn (kind of garbled) Kobayashi Maru simulation! (now normal) We will never forget. << Granted that sounds funny and wrong and really unintelligible in lupine, but she tries. She hustles more people off and searches for her would-be pack mates.

Eye of the Storm stops suddenly at the sound, instincts pull him in every direction - like he wants to go back and fight. A wince, and hearing Battle Singer call the retreat, he is reminded. A snarl of frustration, and he tilts his head back and howls as he runs now. A howl for a brave hero, but also for retreat. Sprinting after the others, and covering their backs as they gather the kinfolk and they all protect the bloodline. The memory of his own family in this situation when he was young is infuriating.

Lights the Darkness just carries his two charges as far as he can, and keeps doing so until they are clear, if ever they are clear. There is, no doubt, a long way to go to reach the camp of his brother and is that even far enough. There will be time to mourn the dead later, to howl about the defeat, even that doesn't come up, to honour the dead. He does what he can to help the injured or carry them, once they are clear, putting down frost and the other kin. He hates it, he hates running like this, but he understands the lesson. He, too, would rather turn and die the warrior's death, part of him, anyway. A low growl is all that is emitted from his throat as he and the others carry on. A face of resolve for what they must to, for what he must do going forward.

It's all too easy to forget that what's happening in the Legendary Realm isn't real - but death here is real for the pack who came from the physical realm. It is a /double/ defeat for Dragomir who has not so long ago suffered a great loss. Seinneadair Blàr runs on, still ridden by Kinfolk and cubs cleaning to his thick pelt, sticky with blood as it is, his own blood! The Galliard, even in his terror, pauses once briefly to look back at the sound of Cunobelinus' death. Silvery eyes look quickly for his companions and whether he sees them or not, the Galliard lowers his head and turns to continue the retreat into the forest. It is a very bitter day, burned into the memory of those who survive it.

After a short time, Puddle Jumper has calmed down again. Although she continues running with the group, it is no longer the maddened sprint of self preservation, but instead the more paced lope of a lifelong wolf. She falls to the rear of the group once more, resuming her previous position of rearguard with Eye of the Storm.

At Cunobelinus's dying words and howl, the lupus throws her own head back and howls long and loud and pure, a wordless noise of primal instinct and loss and Rage and promise. A promise to avenge this wrong, to seek some way of making it right again. A howl to mourn the passing of the great elder of the Hounds, a friend to the pack of more than a year. Then, she runs on with the others.

While the moonbridge into the Realm was a long journey through the Astral Realm, filled with visions and discussion, this trip is incredibly brief. The pack charges down its length, and within only a few moments, they find themselves charging out the other side - almost before they've realized they were on the bridge.

They find themselves deposited in the umbral reflection of a gorgeous, verdant green clearing amidst massive old tree spirits, each shifting and turning subtlely to look at the visitors to this place.

Moments later, a barefoot, fiery-haired woman materializes through the gauntlet, holding a klaive in one hand - Lights-the-Darkness, Puddle Jumper, and Lleutrim will recognize her; she is Fey Dancer, Gatekeeper of the Sept of the Wakened Wood.

Moments later, more Fianna are rushing into the area and through the gauntlet, weapons at the ready, prepared to defend their Caern. But in very short order, the confusion is cleared and replaced by the greater confusion of the Realm bringing the pack directly home to this place, rather than spitting them into greater challenges and dangers on the road home.

A few days pass, the group welcomed by and recovering with the Fianna in the powerful old Caern in Scottland, until Lleutrim gets his chance to tell his tale to Calls Down the Rain.

The Elder Homid, Elder Galliard, Druid of the Fianna, sits and listens quietly, mesmerized by the tale. And when it ends, he has only one thing to say to his old student, Battle Singer. At first it is low and respectful, though it ends with a hearty laugh and a clap on the back:

"Good Lord, man. I see you are an Adren, o'course, but do you do anything by halves? I thought you'd seek a spirit quest and a vision from the Ancestors. MAYBE visit the Battleground Realm, if ye were feeling ballsy!"