2023.04.19 At Hecate's Bidding
| 04.19.23 At Hecate’s Bidding | |
|---|---|
| Branton’s Lady Hecate has informed him of a dark cult making a forced Fomor out of a Glade Child, and the group decides to deal with the problem and rescue the Kami. | |
| IC Date | 04.19.23 |
| Players | Branton, Irsa, Iris, Trey |
| Location | A warehouse downtown filled with cultists |
| Spheres | Garou, Bastet, Sorcerer |
(‘’OOC NOTE- The log starts as RP from a previous scene is wrapping up.’’)
Irsa tilts her head a bit, focusing on her pack link. "They got th' heads' up, but I know a couple of 'em are tied up tonight. They're just gonna have t' live vicariously through me when it comes to visitors, I guess." She rises to her feet and shoulders her pack. "So, Moon Bridge time! Who wants a ride?" On the other side of the Gauntlet, Aelous is sipping tea from a flask, with a bland smile on his nondescript features.
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Probably hanging out with mini-Meros, doing brunch and watching their fuzzy followers mess around. "Sure! I mean unless you wanna take the long way. Actually, like, let's walk out off the bawn first, I wanna try and get in the habbit of NOT opening moon bridges in the caern that aren't done with a Pathstone. It's... risky, you know? I mean just totally circumvents security. And also fresh air is nice."
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Branton tilts his head as if listening to something far away, in fact that's what he's been doing the last several moments, but now he blinks an looks over at Irsa "I just got a heads up from Herself. Well...an image and I can tell where it is well enough to get there. Apparently someone at this warehouse has the Mother of Spells...vexed. And" Branton winces "From the bugles and confetti on the overlay its going to be a bit of an event."
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Trey rises to his feet, picks up his stuff, loads it back into his backpack, and smiles. "I'll take a bridge ride!" He stops with Iris's remark; then Branton's input makes him fall silent for a moment, and then asks, thoughtfully, "That doesn't sound good at all. Are you intending to check it out? Do you want some backup?" Trey may not be the baddest cat in the world, but he's pretty much always game to find answers, help friends, or... well, get into trouble.
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"Even better, I prefer walkin' myself. Just made th' offer, in case whatever you got is stupid heavy. But if it ain't, boot leather all th' way," Irsa replies. It won't disappoint Aelous in the least, he's chillin like a villain right now with his spirit bro. "What warehouse? What's goin' down?" she asks Branton, visibly concerned.
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"Well *yeah*!" Mercy says to Trey as if the very idea of him not going was ludacris. "Fuck, the ONE time I try and be responsible... Okay let's hoof it, Branton you try and relay enough information about where it is so that Irsa can at least moon bridge us close enough by the time we're off the bawn. Aaaaaaand BREAK!" she does the football all-hands-in thing on her own and gets moving briskly so as not to waste time.
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And the two pack totems probably have Hecate dropping in with a bottle of Ouzo and a 'hey ya'all, watch this'. Branton nods at his mate and follows behind her close enough that he won't need his eyes to follow her since he's sending his gaze elsewhere "Not sure exactly what's going on but its on the inland side of the city's norther boundary. Almost as far from here as we can get while still being prospect adjacent. Closest sept holding looks to be the Underground Tech Haven, or the Black Stag Forge. Know either of those well enough to bridge to?"
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Ain't no party like a totem party! Trey hrms. "I know the--" He stops. "Right, not the one making the Bridge." He shuts up, miraculously, and motions to Irsa instead, a wry grin upon his lips.
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Irsa leads the way, shifting to her wolf form and bolting double time to get away from the bawn as quickly as possible. She can seriously haul ass in the woods, city wolf or no. Eventually the group winds up in a small gully, well-concealed from the prying eyes of others. >> I do, << Irsa-wolf rumbles at Branton. In the Umbra, Aelous' bland expression curves into a faint smile. ~ Hold that thought,~ he remarks to the others, heeding Irsa's mental request to open the Moon Bridge for the group.
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Mercy snirks at Trey and says quietly, "I do that all the time." while Irsa and Branton get their directions straightened out. "Tool check..." she says, and starts going through her bag while she follows onto the moon bridge.
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Irsa shifts back to her birth form before opening the Moonbridge: the Veil's a thing, ya'll. Aelous offers a little wave to the group as they travel past the Spirits' Tea Party (tm). He's a regular looking guy, completely normal looking, so normal that he might go unnoticed in most places. A light gray suit goes well with his gray hair and goatee. ~This should be good,~ he remarks to the other Totem spirits, before a dense, unnerving blanket of fog swallows them all. The Mistseekers' totem has thoughtfully placed the end of the Moonbridge inside a vacant building not far from the Tech Haven. "And here we are," Irsa remarks, stepping back into the Tellurian.
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The actual event site is a few blocks further on from where the bridge lets out, but Branton just wanted to get going and those were map locations he knew Irsa would recognize. For his own part as soon as they are back in the physical world Branton is far-seeing ahead again and he relates "Well the good news is I've seen some of these runes and energy signatures before, or at least something like them. There's been some local cultists who try to use sorcery to compel spirits to convert someone into one of the types of Triatic posessed. Usually Fomori. This time seems not quite the same but the Stylistic signature for sure."
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Trey says, “Familiar is good." At least to some degree. "I think I remember you mentioning these people before." And 'people' is a generous term, his tone says. "Same school of thought and craft, maybe not the same sorcerer," he interprets. "Well, this could be..." he hrms, and then settles on, "Interesting. Should I break out the bow or would that be too weird to walk around with?"”
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Mercy produces her bow carved with roses out of nowhere, and then as an afterthought another bow carved with vicious badger creatures that she hands to Trey in answer to his question. They're both dedicated to her, so it tracks. Just in case. She takes a second to get hers strung before following, and somewhere along the way she gets a quiver of plain arrows to appear as well. And sure, public and veil, but what, you never seen Legolas downtown? I saw elves downtown once, they were definitely elves!
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"Wyrm cultists? Fuckin' figures," Irsa grumbles. She hasn't brought her crossbow along tonight, but the city's chockful of things to throw. "I'll cover our flank while we move."
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Trey ohs and takes the bow from Mercy with wide eyes, then strings it just as Mercy does hers. he's not as quick or deft yet. His quiver was still inside the Magpie's Swag bag. That damn thing holds a ton. He takes it out and hangs it off his belt as they walk. He quips, "Anyone asks, this is a sacred Seneca rite and they should fuck off."
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Branton grins at the bows being deployed as he guides the group down an alley and then points out across the street at a boarded-up place "Its in there. I can get more info with my spells and powers but that'll take time. Any of you got something quicker?" And to Irsa he says as he sets down his duffle bag "You need any party favors or you all set? I've got my bow in here but I never use it."
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Mercy laughs at Trey and says, "Wait, isn't that decaf coffee?" she asks, mistaking Senca for Seneca. To Branton she says, "I've got a String! Or I could do the acrobat thing and shadow up, bring back some intel in a sec. I do a fairly good ninja." Mercy offers, "As long as it's not bright in there. But bad guy lairs never are."
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Irsa's scarred mouth curls into a wicked grin at Branton's offer. "Naw, I'm good. I got ammunition for days just lyin' around here," she replies, bending from time to time to collect loose objects like plastic soda bottles and empty beer cans.
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Trey says, “No, that's the tribe my human ancestors belong to. Also a brand of apple juice." No, he's not kidding. And yes, he has human ancestors. If you want to know how that works, ask him, he might even answer. He peers across and says, "I'm willing to try scouting." Try being the operative word. "Or peeking across the Gauntlet.”
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With it being 'get some quick info' time, Meros's Merkin Merchants are on the case! Trey may have his badass muteness going on, but Iris turns into an actual shadow and ever so quietly begins a cirque de sole trip up to some high place, a window or a hole in a wall or something like that, where they can get in, get a view, and maybe double check there's nothing blocking any entry for the two in the alley. MAYBE the sorcs were dumb and didn't lock a door, but maybe not.
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Irsa hums mentally to herself as she fills those empty bottles with odds and ends from her pack. How does she find it all that quickly, and where did she even pull it from? Rusted nuts, bolts, screws, scrap metal and pieces of broken brick and glass fill those makeshift missiles. Nasty-looking for sure, but they're about as aerodynamic as a drunk goose on a bender. She's stealthing with the others, because why advertise your arrival? Rat's wolf children ain't no one's fools.
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Trey walks across every noisy thing possible and makes no sound at all -- it's obvious how much he loves this gift. He's a lot more careful on the visual end, though, making a point of staying out of the patches of light anywhere near, and creeping close to the shadow that is Iris, using her to hide in! Or behind! I mean, she's a freaking shadow!
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Best way to see in is either a window on the fire escape on the side of the building or an unpatched hole 'skylight' in the roof. There is maybe ten or fifteen person sized robed figures in a circle that's a fair bit across. in the middle is a man, shirtless, with their torso painted in symbols. They don't seem to be bound and they are laying next to what looks like a ten foot tall oak tree, roots and all. That is bound, chained and marked up with sigils and what might be blood? Whatever they're doing it can't possibly be good.
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Branton is hiding while he waits for the scouts to return, doing one of his usual functions. Murmuring spells to detect and disarm any sorcerous defenses.
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Irsa tucks the makeshift missiles into the pockets of her pack, where she can immediately retrieve them if needed. She remains silent and still, eyes sweeping over the surrounded area and the scouting party. If anyone dares, DARES to attack them, it's gonna be on like Donkey Kong. Nothing so far, thankfully!
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Trey climbs the fire escape in silence, careful to stay out of sight as best he can, or at least use shadows to his aid. He looks in, gets a good eyeful of the situation, and tries to place the symbols with a rapid but thorough study. From there, he just jumps off the escape, landing on his feet easily, and returns with Iris, reporting what he's seen, including any details on the symbology used.
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Mercy drifts down a bit more slowly, cause she's a shadow, but she ends up right by Trey. She doubles up on info relaying with Trey able to confirm or correct, but she adds, "They're dicking with the alignment of a glade child, and it's gonna go super super bad for the tree. There's also a hole in the ceiling that I desperately want to bomb through." But she doesn't say she's *gonna* because this is city turf and a Hecate mission, meaning orders need to come from Irsa or Branton, as far as she's concerned.
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When the scouts return and Branton hears what his mate says about the dark rite the cultists in the warehouse are performing he scowls "What, and I say this in all seriousness, the actual fuck. There's so many reasons this is a terrible idea even aside from the fact that its fucking heresy. There's around a dozen or so of them? Even if all the ones shrouded in robes are fomori I'm pretty sure we can take them between the lot of us. I probably shouldn't start a fire this big in the city, how do you think we should go in? Bombing through the roof sounds like a good start some."
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Trey mmms grimly and says, "I'm in agreement. Maybe ranged through the roof from cover until we can't, and then finish up the last?" He hopes.
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Irsa's dark eyes narrow to dangerous slits at the mention of a Glade Child. Those spirits are rare in the city, and it's even more personal because a young one has taken root in her own pack house. "That ain't gonna stand," she grates out, a low growl slowly building in her chest. "Take these clowns out, quick an' fast."
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Irsa says, “But quiet. We don't need t' drag every cop's attention.”
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"At the very least, I can guarantee keeping their attention! Probably gonna freak some out, for sure, though." Mercy says, then gestures at the other two and says, "But that's what ranged weaponry is for. I can bomb in from the top while you two break in from the upper sides, and it'll be like evil, magical fish in a barrel." She looks to Irsa and Branton, "Permission to be theatrically dramatic and amazing to get their attention? ... MOSTLY quietly dramatic and amazing?"
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Branton grins at Mercy "It wouldn't be fair of me to keep your spectacularness all to myself. That sounds like a plan. There's a fire escape on either side and that probably lets you in to the loft area above where they're having their ceremony. With that hole right over the top that leaves me to...'knock' politely on the front door once the party's started." Gesturing to his mate with a flourish "Ladies first."
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Irsa rolls her shoulders and nods at Mercy. "Fine by me. I'm gonna surround th' building in fog, so they ain't gettin' by me if they get past you. I can snipe just as well from th' roof, and if they run I can get down to 'em damn fast. Lead th' charge."
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Trey nods simply and says, "Right behind you." He inhales and says, "I'll take whichever fire escape you don't. They won't hear me." At least. "I'll shift once I'm in place."
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Mercy-Shadow squees ever so quietly, and then vanishes into the umbra where she can shift, produce wings, and do a tiiiiiiny bit of gift prep while she's getting up into position over the ceiling hole. She uses her Familiar String to keep a bead on Trey and Irsa so she can Do the Dew when they're in position.
Once they ARE in position and ready to rock, she tucks wings and dives through the hole in the roof, snapping back to the physical world seconds from impact. What the cultists see is a winged werewolf made entirely of FLAMING SHADOWS! a low blue-orange blaze covering its inky black body and wings, and a greater conflagration at its mane and head just BLAM!ing into the ground and rising with a demonic snarl. She can’t ACTUALLY breathe fire, but she can definitely do the blazing Balrog mouth and breathe licks of flame and intense heat. Maybe these cultists know about werewolves, maybe they've seen werewolves, but is Mercy a werewolf, or is she a mother fucking pissed off fire demon upset with these little bitches for putting their fell hopes and prayers into a god damned *tree* and some shitty anti-kami plan?? Pop quiz, hot shots!
This is, obviously, just attention grabbing, posturing, and confusing. Support from the front, basically!
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The Cultists all seem to just freeze at the flaming shadowy winged werecreature display. They call this one Mercy's Messenger boys. She works for Mercy and has none of her own for you. This gives the rest of the group opportunities to act from surprise.
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Hammer-Tooth sneaks up a fire escape and shifts to Crinos, knowing full well that no one can spot her through the fog she's summoned to surround the warehouse. She takes up a position near the sniping spot and rears back her arm to totally hurl a spirit-propelled missle right at the furthest Cultist. That spiky metal-filled Coors can shouldn't fly through the air like a frisbee, but it does, with the greatest of ease.
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Treads-on-Thin-Ice gets up to the shooting gallery -- er, loft -- and takes the large, unfamiliar bow. After a long breath, he shifts up to a much larger form, and then opens his eyes, finding the one closest to the Glade Child and muttering, "Not today, assbasket."
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Trey's arrow goes half through the person he aims at, though he hasn't killed him. Yet. He's working on it!
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As arrows, beer cans, and burning werewolves fly through the air, Branton gives the front door a solid kick right by the door knob and it *explodes* inwards. "It was then" Branton yells, pitching his voice to carry over the stunned silence "The collected group of sorcerous jackholes realized that they'd done fucked up."
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Mercy lunges towards the vessel as he starts getting up, spotting the telltale signs of 'about to lose my shit and change skins' while she's terrorizing the cultists. Nope, nope, not having any of that, bad Spiral! Mercy will show you LOVE, RAR! Her claws become barbed like wild rose thorns, and she rams those into the dude nice and solid as she bear hugs him. He's stuck, he can’t just shrug Mercy off, not with those claws! Buuut he does, cause he's a werewolf and those are strong AF. Sure, maybe he CAN resist one of Mercy's hugs, but no one can resist her kisses! When her grip is thrown off, she snaps her mouth forward and literally, *very* literally bites his face off. Imagine Nicholas Cage saying it right now. Face. *Off*. But will that fucker die already?? No, because he needs MORE LOVE next round!
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Branton is getting rushed by cultists and they flail at him with their daggers as he picks one of them to just...die. Sharp point of the rapier through the Adam’s apple and out the spine. The only thing damaged on Branton is the poofy sleeves of his swashbuckler shirt.
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Treads-on-Thin-Ice takes aim at the robed fellow who was originally leading the ritual, the one he'd just hit quite solidly, and shoots another arrow through him, leaving him an unhappy, nearly-dead pincushion on the disgusting floor. "And STAY down," he growls. He'll finish him off later. For now, he's selecting another target, and making damned sure not to cause any friendly fire by choosing his angles well.
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With four of the cultists trying to get at or past Branton and the door he's holding, two of them down for the count. That leaves Nine more to...Scatter into the shadows of the warehouse to try and flee. The Vessel who would have been, that turned out to be a spiral in disguise, is nearly dead but in that final frenzy that sometimes comes on critically injured shifters. While in the circle near where the Vessel and Mercy struggle, the chained and spell marked tree...Shakes. Not much but it does move.
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Hammer-Tooth is having none of this escaping nonsense, nuh uh. As the cultists try to clamber up the fire escape her head darts forward and closes on the leading cultist's leg with a sickening *crunch*. But there's more where that came from if anyone feels left out, she's a nice person that way! A second cultist is happily invited to a chomp of her jaws, but alas! The post office doesn't deliver the invite, and her fangs clash together on empty air.
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Mercy looks down at the still twitching Spiral, who's getting that Crazy Eyed look of impending frenzy destruction, and is thinking to herself, 'holy shit, guy, just die already!' While he's still shocking his own system back to life and emergency healing some of that Face. Off. injury, Mercy climbs up onto the altar beside them, kicking things off and ruining it during the process like the defiling punk she is. Normally there'd be a victory howl or something like that from the Garou about to leap on a bad guy, but it's the actual WWE trumpets that come from her snoot as she leaps off the thing for a body busting, elbow first pile drive into the Spiral. Yep, he's dead now! ... Right? ... Yeah, no, he's dead.
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Treads-on-Thin-Ice was aiming downward to start, but he turns instead as people begin coming up the stairs to try and escape through the fire exits... hah! Irsa is having her fun, and Trey shoots first one cultist, who gets caught in the crush of motion, and then a second, who wobbles, goes flying, and then faceplants on the floor two stories down. Ow, that's gonna leave a mark. Somewhere in there, Trey's slashed, and he snorts, his regeneration handling the matter nicely, and growls back, "NICE TRY, FUCKBUCKET!"
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Branton becomes a blur of speed as his silhouette starts flickering the sparks of white lightning. The Cultists couldn't stop him before, they can stop him even less now. Though one of them manages to need two stabs rather than one.
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The remaining cultists try real hard but this is clearly a higher order of response than they were prepared for. Not much glory to be had but the work still has to get done. It doesn't take long but Mercy still has a moment to breathe and take a look at the chains and glyphs on the tree and all the shaking its doing.
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Hammer-Tooth spits out a wad of flesh and makes a disgusted face. So, so naaaassssty. She's quick to bound down from the roof and help polish off the survivors, and starts stacking up bodies and their various parts for eminent cremation at Branton's hands. No point in leaving bodies for the humans to examine, and wonder why giant wolves are an actual thing.
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Treads-on-Thin-Ice does his part by continuing to pincushion cultists so long as they are there to pincushion. He helpfully kicks any bodies down onto the main floor pile (well away from the dryad and tree), then goes back down to help with any finishing off that is needed.
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Mercy extinguishes her flames and shrinks down to Homid so as not to be anything that'd threaten wood or leaf, and tries to put on her best calming spirit-voice. ~It's okay, calm yourself, we're going to help you.~ she tells it while looking over the mess of symbols on the tree, the chains, and how it's confined spirit is doing (not well, presumably!). She'll wait till the other mystics are with her before actually touching anything, and use that time to make sure this isn't one of those things where shit's gonna blow up sideways if they undo any of the ritual works the wrong way. "Hey, tree lady needs some help!" she also calls, just to make sure everyone's aware!
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Branton is going to be busy tending to corpse disposal. Keeping the fire well away from the distressed tree spirit.
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For those examining the tree, there are symbols painted on it that are of mortal sorcery to keep the spirit from exerting influence on its surroundings. The chains are also inscribed to drain anything that escapes the tree into the altar and the waiting vessel, forcing that rather than dissipating to slumber wherever it would have normally gone. There is still dirt on the root ball of the tree. She is still alive.
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Hammer-Tooth remains in Crinos when she joins Mercy, using her bulky form to block the spirit's view of those fierce flames consuming the corpses. >> Do you want me to snap the chains? << she asks her mentor. She's not worried about the humans turning up -- the combat wasn't super loud and Aelous' Curse is shielding the warehouse from view. >> I can do that very quickly. <<
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Trey has rejoined the others on the first floor, and shifts back to Homid so as not to seem intimidating. "She's still alive," he says hopefully. "But those chains are draining it. Her." He nods to Irsa. "I'd say yes... Mercy?"
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"Uhhhhhhh... Yeah, do that, and prepare to get wet. Trey, would you help by scrubbing some of those symbols off? I'll create some water." Mercy says, then eyes the tree a bit while thinking. "You want another glade child at your place? Might get along well with the one that's already there. Do a cleansing, transport our poor tree maiden, get her planted again and healed up." she then asks, ~Wanna go live at the Garou lady's house?~ to the tree. Where it WAS living clearly wasn't very safe!
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>> Is that a trick question? Of course I wouldn't mind another. Protector-of-Hope would be thrilled. But would she prefer the wild instead? << Hammer-Tooth reaches out her exerts her full strength to snap those chains, taking great care not to harm the spirit.
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Trey gets wet, saying, "On it!" and starts scrubbing, careful to break all of the significant linking parts of the symbols first, working to get rid of them as quickly as possible. He's not going to debate the issue of placement right now -- just focus on helping to rid the tree of the markings.
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The chains snap easily under Hammer-Tooth's attention and the the glyphs come off. There's an almost audile spirit ~sigh~ as the spells break. ~Another you say? I don't want to go too far, or be around too many others. I grew in a park. It was supposed to be safe~
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~ You will be safe with us, ~ Hammer-Tooth rumbles. My packmate, our mystic, follows Pegasus, and loves the green world well. She and my pack will defend you. ~
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Mercy has a little bit of trouble getting the water going for Trey's scrub efforts, but she gets there, positioning the creation up in the lower branches where it can cascade down the trunk and help wash away the runes and glyphs and whatever other nasty shit might be on its poor body. ~Oh you'll love it, at least long enough to be put back in peak condition. While you recouperate in safe privacy with Hammer Tooth, we can find your park and help bring its safety back so you can be reunited with your home if you get a longing for it, or even if you decide to stay with her pack.~ Presumably everyone here speaks spirit, so Mercy doesn't do translatey BS.
