2018.08: Moot
| Moot | |
|---|---|
| August 2018 Moot for Sept of the Enduring Spirit | |
| Players | Those performing the Moot Rite: Brooke, Gavan, Johanna, Journey, Percy, Moot |
| Location | Caern Ampitheater |
| Prp/Tp | Monthly Moots |
| Spheres | Gaian Garou |
Moots are held on +bboard 79 as of June 2018. This is a compilation of the posts for August 2018.
The Fool
It is that time again, and the Sept of the Enduring Spirit gathers in the Caern Amphitheater. As the circle has formed, the Master of the Howl enters the circle and stops in the center waiting for quiet.
A younger male Ragabash walks inside the circle and whistles. "Hey! This seems a good place for me to hang out and take a nap. You mind moving? I really like that patch of ground you are standing on." He moves up to her, and makes the motion of shooing her off with his hands. A big dramatic yawn, "This is all part of the Caern, and we can all use it if we want. Maybe you could ask everyone to leave too since I need some rest and this just isn't working for me. I need to catch some zzzzz's before I head out to that farm I saw not far from here, and see if I can munch some of their crops and maybe snuggle up with one of the cute Kin girls."
The Master of the Howl looks at this guy, The Fool for this Moot, with a look of derision. "And who do you think you are? Do you have no respect for others and their territory?"
The Fool laughs, "We are all here of Gaia, and the Sept. Share and share alike, makes sense to me! If you have it, share it. We are not fascists. Live in the now." Turning to the Sept around them, The Fool grins and searches for support, "Who wants to live a little with me?" Crickets can be heard at first, then growing boos and some gnashing of teeth, before boos and hisses.
Opening Howl
Looking a bit side-eyed at The Fool, the Master of the Howl steps away from him and puts her hands up to quiet the crowd.
"Welcome, one and all! The Sept of the Enduring Spirit, we gather to honor Gaia and restore our totem for the coming battles. You are all witness and have joined in our growing circle. Join me in calling the Moot to begin!" Letting her head tip back, she takes in a deep breath and lets out her greeting howl, as those around the circle join in.
A few yips from the cubs, and even the Sept begins to quiet again as the howls fade. The Master of the Howl gives a sign for quiet and speaks, "We shall honor and remember all those who have Fallen." She reads the list of names, as well as praising the deeds of how each of the fallen will be remembered. She leads a mournful howl in honor of them all. On opposite sides of the circle, one can hear a Garou on each side with a particularly mournful howl, having lost their father.
"Gaia has blessed us with gifts and abilities to use to defend her, the Spirits, the Nation, and the Sept. Our actions will live on beyond our time on this Earth, so long as we remember and honor those memories. We shall continue now, but teaching The Fool why." That look of derision back to The Fool, who is curled up in that spot he asked for, and is now 'snoring' loudly. The Master of the Howl walks back over to him, and with a foot, nudges him to stop snoring and listen up.
Beginning with the first two parts of the litany, she continues to the portion The Fool began his antics with earlier. "Respect the Territory of Another! Whenever a Garou approaches another Garou's territory, you must announce yourself first and ask permission to enter. This would be a Howl of Introduction! We have all heard when others have come to the Sept! Reciting your name, rank, auspice, tribe, totem, and home Sept. Stepping onto someone else's territory, taking their things, showing disrespect is not our way. Yes, we do share some places, such as at the Caern, it does not mean you can do with it as you wish anytime." She looks to The Fool again and asks, "Do you think anyone would want to help you, if you need cleansed, and you just got done disrespecting their land because you were just having fun? Living in the now? What if you continue to do that, and you get in real trouble with the Wyrm? Let alone, would you ever be accepted in a pack with that attitude?"
"Brothers and Sisters of the Sept of the Enduring Spirit! I know some would still take pity on The Fool here and help him out, but if someone disrespects your land, your home, you family, would you really? Or would you challenge him?" The Fool rolls his eyes, and just lays back on the ground, and feigns to be uninterested. Shouting from the crowd begins, 'Challenge!', as well as a few other choice words, snarls, and howls.
A hand goes up again, and the Master of the Howl finishes the remaining portion of the Litany. The Fool takes time during this to sit up, and pulls out a bag of chips and crunches loudly on them as she talks and finally as the Litany is completed, he stands up. He pulls another bag of chips out, and hands them to the Master of the Howl. "Well, sounds like this Sept does follow traditions and maybe respecting others could be worth it. For Gaia's sake and all. I'll try it your way." He walks off and joins the circle.
The Inner Sky
When her name is called, Brightheart is at first difficult to see. It isn't until a short, slip of a woman - one who looks oddly like she might still be in her mid-teens - melts into the center from the assembled crowd. She wears a simple sleeveless gown of lightweight black fabric, and is undecorated except for a wide line of red paint going from temple to temple over her eyelids and the bridge of her nose. She looks thin enough to appear frail, but for the first time since she came to the area, there is actual color in her face. "Brothers and sisters, we gather in this sacred space, reminded of the joy and complexity of who we are." Despite her small stature, her sweet voice carries as though riding the breeze that begins to stir as she speaks. "We walk in skin." There is a resounding cry from those of homid birth. "We walk in fur." A series of bright howls from the lupus gathered around.
It is at this point that the woman changes, gown melting into soft fur the color of peaches and cinnamon as she takes her breed form and stands in the central space as perhaps the smallest Crinos Garou anyone present has seen. << But we must never forget the spirit that binds us, and it is to that part of our souls that we reach now - to ask the spirits to grant our home their gifts. >> The High Tongue comes easily to Brightheart, adding something of power to her small voice.
It is to the east that the small Theurge turns first. << From the east, we seek wisdom. We seek clarity. We seek knowledge. Cast your light into the darkness so that we can banish all fear! >> As though in response to her invocation, a spirit manifests itself from the Umbra at the East cardinal point. It is a bright thing, like a miniature sun that stands (really it bounces in a small excited circle, but that's close enough) ready to light the way.
To the south Brightheart moves next, a high howl from her preceding her words. << From the south, we seek ferocity. We seek power. We seek might. Share with us your conviction - the strength to use our anger to protect all we hold dear, rather than let our anger use us. >> This time, when the spirit manifests in the realm, it is as though he steps through the invisible curtain. Black Unicorn is unmistakable in his solemn, quiet glory - a massive stallion ready to protect, to defend, and to chase the glory of honorable battle beside his fellow warriors.
When she reaches the westernmost point, Brightheart pauses - luminescent blue eyes sliding closed for a moment of some intense emotion. Such things are much harder to read from a war form face. When she opens them again, both arms spread wide, held out to her sides as though encompassing all who have gathered. << From the west, we seek love. We seek joy. We seek belonging. Shelter us beneath your wings so we never forget that even in our darkest hours, we are /pack/ and we are /never/ alone/. >> At this invocation, the white aspect of a Pegasus Jaggling manifests himself, pawing at the grass before Brightheart reaches one clawed hand to rest warm against his muzzle. At this touch, he settles, and mighty wings unfold to spread wide. Not all love is soft - but this is somehow appropriate for creatures of claw and Rage and war.
Finally, Brightheart approaches the south corner. Here, she stops - cutting into her palm with one claw and letting the blood drip down onto the grass. << From the north, we seek growth. We seek healing. We seek magic. Teach us the secret and hidden things - the Gifts and Rites with which we fulfill our purpose - and remind us that nothing comes without cost. >> What appears is a reflection of the moon, whose light spins and twists into the form of a ghostly woman. She wanders closer and touches the bleeding cut in Brightheart's palm. Almost instantly, that blood stains her whole hand red, and she drags the color over her own face in a mirror of the pattern Brightheart wore in human form. That bloodied hand she then presses to the Crinos form's chest, leaving behind a dark, wet handprint.
With a dip of her head to accept this gift, Brightheart returns to the center of the compass rose formed by the spirits who have come to share this holy moment. Arms outstretched once more, she begins to turn - counterclockwise, as if a storm unto herself. The winds pick up around her and the spirits who have come join the dance, cavorting with laughter, battle cries and even some weeping. All sounds mix together in the rush of light and life and movement. << This is our birthright and for it we will live and die. Look down on your children, Bear, and see that we keep your Caern alive and thriving - bless us with your patience, your strength, and your love. >> Manifesting with the appearance of rising from the heart of the Caern, a massive bear looms over the gathered moot and spirits before rumbling affection and slowly settling down over and into them with a parent's warm embrace. Only then do the other spirits fade. Only then does the sound become silence and the dance become stillness once more.
Kneeling in the center, Brightheart appears homid once more, and though weak enough that two kinfolk come to help her to meld back into the mass of bodies, she has completed her task and appears to be at peace.
Cracking the Bone
After Brightheart exits, the Master of the Howl gives a nod toward the Truthcatcher. Once again, Alecto steps forward holding a wood stick, the one decorated with glyphs in vibrant greens and yellows. Johanna follows just behind her as they wait for the crowd to fall silent. She passes the talking stick to the younger Philodox, who takes it and holds it over her head.
Johanna announces, using the words she was instructed to say, "I am Johanna Isla Johnson, rite named Starchaser, born on two legs beneath the Half Moon, Fostern of the Stargazers. Daughter of Seeks-the Stars, granddaughter of Calls-Down-The Stars-To-Judge, great granddaughter of Stardancer. Packed with Aster Iustum, children of Peregrine. On behalf of the Truthcatcher I ask you, who has business?"
Taking grievances one at a time, from highest ranking to lowest, each is given its due time. Minor issues are settled, from misunderstandings to simple mistakes. It seems the major issues are being settled more and more outside of the Moot, until a Cub comes forward.
A lupus trots forward, and nudges Johanna's leg. She recognizes him, and sets the talking stick in front of him, his paw then goes on it. >>Name Sunnyspot. Good wolf. Want to be ... next.. rank. I practice on two legs. I like to claw bad things. Make bad things go away. Ready to be... Cliath. Older person will not let me take..um.. test. Sunny good. Sunny ready.<<
At this point, a man walks forward from the circle. He waits patiently for a turn to speak about this subject. Johanna acknowledges him, knowing the Elder, as she picks up the talking stick from the ground in front of Sunnyspot. He takes the stick and speaks in a solemn, calm voice, full of wisdom, "I am Stands With Trees, Galliard Elder of the Uktena tribe. I have been called by my tribe to oversee and mentor the cubs of my tribe, and any other tribe that seeks help with guiding our newest cubs." He crouches down next to Sunnyspot, getting almost to his level. "This one here is still learning. He is a gift of Gaia to our tribe and to the nation, but eagerness is not enough." Standing back up he looks to Johanna with deference, "If he had asked for a second opinion, I would gladly have brought in another Elder to judge if he was ready. As it is, Sunnyspot is not clear how to introduce himself, and he spends very little time practicing being homid. To that end, his speech is not practiced enough to pass as human, or mannerisms. Not that that is a prerequisite, but as so many in our Sept are homid born, it is a skill that should be further developed."
Stands With Trees turns and speaks to the Sept, "I humbly ask that we all take time, as a Nation, to assist our lupus born just as much as we help our homid borns. Maybe even more. It is not an easy transition for the lupus to homid thinking. We must look out for them, teach them, help them practice. But we must not let any cub get away with breaking the veil or breaking traditions just because we want to see their eagerness rewarded. If I let Sunnyspot go through his rite of passage, not only could he lose his life, but if he does manage to pass, he would be a very ill equipped Cliath. One that does not know how to introduce himself properly so we all understand, or that he could even take pride in his own name and tribe. As a Cliath, he could be allowed to go outside of the bawn and in homid form walk into the wrong part of town, like that drug and crime addled park in downtown, and end up in the hands of the Wyrm!" He looks to Sunnyspot, obvious concern on his wrinkled face. "Starchaser, I ask you to question simple things to Sunnyspot, and you will see just what I am saying." He hands the talking stick back to her, and walks back outside of the circle.
Johanna holds the talking stick in her hand. She nods to Stands With Trees, and then crouches down next to Sunnyspot, who is now laying down flat on the ground. "Sunnyspot, I will pass judgment on what you have asked me. First, let me ask you a couple of questions. What is your full introduction? That includes your name, your rank, your tribe, and your auspice. Those are all important information for those in the Nation to know who you are. To give you the respect you deserve." She places the talking stick next to Sunnyspot's paws, right infront of where his head lays.
Sunnyspot moves his toes, and touches the stick. He picks his head up a bit and says in lupine, >>I Sunnyspot. Cub. Umm... tribe... sounds like bad thing... like choking.. no.. they no like Sunny. Bad group. They smart, say Sunny not. Hmm, ends with ennna. Yuckyenna? Born in a litter with other pups. Moon was gone...that is what they said.<< He looks with doe eyes to Johanna, >>See, I good wolf! I remember. Can I go rip bad things now? Then bury them. Save all the good wolves! Protect friends!<<
Johanna takes the talking stick from Sunnyspot. She stands up and walks over to Alecto for a moment, before she turns back and announces to the Sept. "Sunnyspot has asked for his rite of passage. It is my judgment after speaking with him and with Stands With Trees, that Sunnyspot is eager and will be a willing warrior for Gaia and the Nation. But Sunnyspot needs our help to understand much more about being Garou. I encourage you all to take time, in lupus form, to converse with Sunnyspot. Let's show him we can take the time with our lupus brothers and sisters and prepare them for the world we come from. Let's also have him show us more of our own lupus side that some of us may not spend enough time with." She looks to Stands With Trees, "I would like to revisit this personally before the next Moot. Let's see what we can do as a Nation to help him, and any other cubs that you find are having issues. We are here to support you and the good work you are doing."
Sunnyspot looks a bit defeated, but a couple of other lupus come running up from the circle next to him, and direct him to come sit with them. They leave the circle, as does Johanna who gives the talking stick back to Alecto.
Stories and Songs
The Truthcatcher and Starchaser have finished and exit the circle. The Master of the Howl steps out and signals to someone to rise and join her from the circle.
“Listen up, all will be wise to hear the tales shared tonight. It is a special occasion as Elder Shaderunner'rhya will bless us with a tale. Afterwards, I have something special to share as well.” she announces. Stepping back now, the circle is open for the first speaker.
Story: Bomb Runners Tale
Introduced as 'Shaderunner telling the tale of Bomb Runner, Journey rises from where Zephyrs Hand Pack is sitting, taking a burning stick, holding it like a torch, moving to address the group, holding the burning brand aloft gesturing as he speaks,
"Listen well to the tale of Bomb Runner, Athro of the Ragabash, possessing the blood of the Uktena. Bomb Runner was a Garou of War, in that while she lived, Humanity was embroiled with one of the greatest conflicts of their understanding, the Second World War. Her Pack, the Allied Allstars, was formed to root out Wyrm corruption during Human Wartime in the Pacific Theatre. In the course of events, the Allied Allstars gained the favor of a mysterious creature, a long forgotten creature of legend, which granted each member of the Pack a boon. To ask one question of Your Future, and have it answered honestly. A simple question, a simple answer, but the truth. A glimpse of what was to come for each member."
"Her packmates asked questions, got answers, each to their own will, but Bomb Runner, she asked, 'How will I die?'
"By Silver' was the answer. Silver was to be her doom.
"So with this knowledge, Bomb Runner worked to gird herself against the poisonous metal, and so kept fighting the Wyrm through the end of the war, unknowingly living the last years of the last Age, before the end of the Second World War, when came the opening of the Eye of the Wyrm on Gaia. Humans called it the coming of the Atomic Age.
"The Allied Allstars kept seeking to foil the advances of atomic and Nuclear weaponry, as much testing of these weapons were done in those days in the Pacific Ocean. It was in the Bikini Atoll, one of the many many tests, when her Pack faced a battle against Banes that turned against them. Bomb Runner, she fought as fiercely as anyone, holding the knowledge of her death by Silver, and the banes had none. So she fought on, using her skill to secure the surviving members of her Pack, escaping from the Umbra, into the physical world. But, too long had passed, they landed at the base of a tower, fifteen feet tall, and holding the Bomb.
"Imagine Bomb Runners relief when she woke up after the detonation. She hadn't died. The Bomb was not Silver." He pauses before continuing.
Journey sighs, "She was in a hallway, alone. Dim light from nowhere, and Sigils on the walls. Foul, blasphemous Sigils. She was at one closed end of a hall and could hear a deep thrumming, like an irregular heartbeat.. A deep, humid, fetid air hanging with the smells of corruption. It took Bomb Runner only a moment to know where she was. The Eye of the Wyrm Opened. She was there, and she.. fell into it. She stood at the very beginning of the outermost part of the Great Black Spiral Labyrinth of Malfeas. The Gauntlet of madness and corruption and despair that twists Garou, kills the fortunate, but if they are not fortunate, they will be unspun by the Labyrinth, torn into pieces, warped to the soul, and reborn as a creature, a mockery, caricature of what she was, now in service to the Wyrm. And this is what was laid out before her. She knew it to be true. She felt it."
Journey casts the stick aside and holds out his hands, looking at them, fingers curved as if he had claws. "And she looked down and asked, 'How Will I Die?' And she looked down the hallway at the moving Wyrm sigils, and to her claws.. And tapping into the power of the Lune she learned it from, willed her claws to Silver."
Journey suddenly straightens, and brings his hands up, throwing his head back, 'Raking' his claws over his own throat in a crisscross pattern!
Holding the pose for a moment, he relaxes, "And so there was a happy ending. And I leave you with the knowledge that this story is the Truth, related to me by Springtime Winds, the Garou who inherited Bomb Runners soul."
With that Journey moves back to the crowd, leaving the Storytellers area, to rejoin his Pack.
Story 1: Elder Journey Farshi/Shaderunner, Theurge of the Silent Striders
Slowly walking back out to the center of the circle of gathered Garou, Brooke has a new purpose, and look in her eyes. She opens her hands, palms up in front of her, " I arrived here a year ago this month, and after serving humbly, responsibly, and with deep respect for my tribe, the Sept of the Enduring Spirit, the Nation, and Gaia, as well as Merlin and my pack, Terminal Velocity. It is now my opportunity to challenge for the rank of Athro. I have challenged Howls at High Moon'rhya, and in her wisdom, she accepted and gave me my tasks. The final task is the stories I will be sharing with you tonight."
Her hands come down to rest on her belly, as she stands up a bit straighter, "For my story contribution to this month's Moot, I will be speaking about three of the Elders of our Sept. I have spent time with each of them since I arrived here, and most recently we spoke in much more depth. Tonight, you will hear of their histories, their plans, their goals, and what they desire for the future. Hopefully, you will learn more from this, as I certainly did."
Starting to stroll to her right, Brooke begins the first tale. "The first Elder I spoke with was Shaderunner'rhya. He was born at Whitedrop Sept in the Colorado Rockies, and both his parents were Kinfolk. The Sept there was formed around a sacred meteor that fell to earth.." she makes a motion with her hand of a falling rock, her fingers wiggling a bit as she does, "..which became a Caern heart. His mother, not surprisingly, is a very important kin as she is in charge of the cooking at the Sept. She always makes sure the food is good and ready whenever it might be needed." Holding up her index finger on her right hand, "This explains how 9 times out of 10 when you encounter Shaderunner'rhya, there is food involved. Now, while he claims his blood line is muddled, that obviously did not take away from his importance. When he was born, there was a prophecy from the first Theurge, present at his birth. Spirits of War'rhya stated, 'This child. This one will be a Garou, in that he will join me in this, our crescent moon.' As Shaderunner'rhya will attest, Spirits of War'rhya was not one to exaggerate. Shaderunner'rhya was blessed in always knowing that he was going to be Garou, and was educated every day to become a Theurge, which is what he does now for his own son."
"When I asked him about what he wants currently, what he desires, he really hopes that we can all work towards what Gaia needs of us, rather than having to deal with our own intertribal, interpersonal, interspecies conflicts. We have a calling, and there is much work to do. Serving Gaia, striving to make her whole, and staying on course to stop the infection of the Wyrm, doing what we were literally created to do is what should be on our minds - not waste our energy on other nonsense." Brooke makes a motion with her hands in front of her, palms flat face down. "As for Shaderunner'rhya and his future here, he wants to be a fixed point of reference for the Nations and Others. Connect people with what they need, and move on situations that need it. He feels that being an Elder means tending to and answering the needs of the Garou and the Nations, serving Gaia by helping wherever you can, teaching others what you know, and developing new things. Shaderunner'rhya still looks to learn new things, from the spirits and from others in the Nation."
As she begins to wrap up the story, her hands settle on her own swollen belly. "One cannot speak of Shaderunner'rhya without mention of his son, Stephen, or as some call him, Baconcaller. As anyone who has spent time with them know, Shaderunner'rhya is a fine example of a father. He hopes to give his son all the education to be a fine Garou. Teach him how to do all the things he was taught as a child, and one day let him head out to take to the road as he did. As a Strider, to carve his life out for himself. If you ask his advice to other parents, he will say that whether you breed true or not, your children need to be loved and taught what's really important and what's not, and to learn to tell the difference day-to-day." She walks toward the middle of the circle and smiles to one and all. "That is just a peak into Shaderunner'rhya, for there is so much you can learn from and about him. I hope this gives you a bit of an insight, and I encourage you to take a moment when you can to do so."
Brooke moves back for now, allowing another to come forward to speak while she takes a seat for a few minutes. She has two more stories to tell to complete her challenge.
Story 2: Elder George Andrews/Mocks-the-Dark, Ragabash of the Silent Striders
Returning to the middle of the circle, Brooke begins again. "Sept of the Enduring Spirit, now I will speak of another Elder. Mocks-the-Dark'rhya. He has taught me a lot about things I thought where just myths, and especially that he can appear out of thin air when you least expect it!" A smile before she gets more serious.
"Mocks-the-Dark'rhya began his life in the mundane foster care system. Without his parent's or the Nation to bring him up, this lost cub made his way through life not knowing what he would be come, or the strength of his own bloodline. Lucky for him, his first change came while on a camping trip. He was a chaperone for the local youth center in Wyoming where he grew up. As he does, he was paying forward the good will shown to him and continued to volunteer there after he aged out. When he stepped away from the camp to water a tree, he heard something rustling in the underbrush. No, it was not just any woodland creature." Brooke turns quickly to the side near some younger cubs and puts her hands like claws out toward them. "The creature came charging straight for him! It was a skull pig! It was on the run from a patrol pack from the Caern at Goshen Hole. Mocks-the-Dark'rhya's body knew what to do and he changed right then and there and went right at this thing. Being untrained, he was able to last long enough for that pack to catch up to it and once settled they took him back to the Caern to get examined by their Elders."
She steps away from the cubs and begins a slow pace to walk while speaking, "Circumstances of this battle and his change meant it better to just let those he was with believe that Mocks-the-Dark'rhya had died - between the shreds of his clothing and the blood that saturated the place. He went through his cub training there and then moved to Prospect. He needed to disappear and not be out in mortal society when he was believed to be dead. During this cub training, he had many teachers, including hand to hand combat with the Red Talon Ahroun Storm-of-Blood, firearms from the Glass Walker Ragabash Fires-of-War, to scouting and how to be so sneaky with the Wendigo Ragabash Brightly-Biting-Wind."
"The question had to be asked, why Prospect? Why come to the Sept of the Enduring Spirit? We all have our own reasons for coming here from all over the world. In this case, it is because a pack had howled word that they were looking for a Ragabash specifically. He came here to try to fit with them. Although it did not work, he did find a home here." Brooke comes upon some new Cliaths in the circle and nods to them. "I asked Mocks-the-Dark'rhya what he wants. What he would desire to see happen around here. His answer? Everyone needs to take a step back and stop looking for reasons to be offended, and keep attacking each other of trivial things. It takes up his time, and other's time trying to negate it and keep people from being hurt. Yes, there are cultural difference between various shifters, but everyone, from some of the Fera to our younger Cliaths to even shifters of higher rank - they all need to prioritize and get some perspective before charging forward when they feel even the least bit slighted, or that someone does not understand them."
Brooke makes her way back to the center of the circle. "Finally, I asked Mocks-the-Dark'rhya what of his deeds that he remembers the most often. Of course, that was a simple answer for him. The story I shared at last month's Moot of his challenge with Myrina's Vengeance'rhya would be it. It is a lesson that even if the spirits have blessed you with the knowledge of many gifts, those gifts will not help you if you do not use them intelligenly. Plus discounting someone's abilities because of their auspice just because you are an Ahroun? It is not thinking things through. Huberis - it will get you if you do not keep it in check."
Adding as she wraps up this story, "Just remember with Mocks-the-Dark'rhya. He almost never does anything for just one reason. Just because something happened a long time ago does not mean he has not been paying attention." A grin. "It does make you wonder what game plan he has with any one of us!" Brooke bows her head, and moves out to sit again, resting up for the final story and letting another Galliard tell a tale.
Story 3 - Elder - Billy Bojangles/Very Good Boy, Philodox of the Glass Walkers
This time, Brooke comes up to the center of the circle with a couple of others. A rocking chair is placed there for her, and she gently takes a seat. Her hands lay upon her belly, as she begins to rock a bit back and forth. The others have stools and sit down around her. Each one has either a guitar, banjo, or small percussion instrument. Brooke begins to speak. "Saving our newest Elder for last, I would like to share about Very Good Boy'rhya." She has a genuine glimmer in her eyes when speaking of her fellow Glass Walker tribe mate. "He is not of this time, you see. Very Good Boy'rhya was born on a US Army Base in San Francisco in the early 1960's. Yes. You heard me right. The 1960's. He sure looks good for his age! Now, Glass Walkers are often involved in the military, and they had their own section of this base. They trained much like the regular human recruits, but had additional instructions vis a vie the Wyrm. Keep in mind, Very Good Boy'rhya is lupus born, and there are very few of those in the Glass Walker tribe. That makes him rare and precious to say the least. He was trained as a War Dog, with a homid handler. His mother was a wolf kinfolk, able to pass as a wolf-dog hybrid because as you may all know, Glass Walkers do not have much pure breeding. Very Good Boy'rhya's father was an officer, and a Garou. He was his mom's handler. I found it interesting how back in those times, War Dogs - even lupus kinfolk - it would not matter the gender in the military. Male and female fought alongside each other forever, so it is normal."
The musicians around her begin to play. Brooke rocks in the chair a bit now. "When Very Good Boy'rhya graduated training, it was the time of the Vietnam war. The Communist uprising was being spurred on by the Wyrm's control over the party. With US troop numbers being quadrupled in the theater, it was time to prepare and head for war. They were assigned into cub pack, and were shipped out to meet up with older, more established packs and thus take their rite of passage at the edges of the battlefield. They would slowly move inwards and gain renown and deeds until they were in the thick of it all. Being sandwiched in between older packs, with various monitors about, they could gain intelligence for the troops and the danger would be minimal for them. Or so they thought." The musicians are playing a familiar song
As the song continues on, Brooke smiles, "Not all of it was a bad time for them. Very Good Boy'rhya and his pack sailed on ships across the ocean, toured the rivers on gun boats, flew over the mountain and patties in helicopters - they got to see the beauty of the world, despite being in danger zones. They also gained glory fast by doing the work they were trained for. One of their specialties was to blow and inspect tunnels to stop the North Vietnamese from using their bombs and guns to hurt others. The real challenge though, came from the Wyrm. The Wyrm would make some of our own troops do terrible things. Very Good Boy'rhya's cub pack's goal was to make it from the coastal landing zone up to an inland base. When they arrived, they would be celebrated as Cliaths. Just before they could get there, they came across a tiny village. They were told it was a safe place, friendly to the US, but what they found was not that. In fact, a platoon of American boys were destroying it and committing atrocious acts upon the women and murdering the men, and worse to the children. The cub pack got to see what happens when young men go to war, break, and have the Wyrm twist you to its side. Not knowing the situation, Very Good Boy'rhya and his pack got into something far more dangerous than they imagined. Suddenly they were attacked and they were getting injured and had to escape. They ran, thinking it could not get worse. But it did. Those that were monitoring them were gone. And they discovered something most may not realize. The overlap of the battle field and the atrocities committed, the war and so much more there, the Umbra was affected by the physical world and everything changed around them. What was ground became a mix of blood and mud. Maggots rose from every step they took, and new fomori chased after them. The rocks and bushes became mounds of bones and rotting flesh, and the sky was blood red with black clouds. Yes, they were in hell times a thousand. Death and rot surrounding them. This is what war was and all compiled into one place since the dawn of time."
The music changes to another song, while Brooke takes a moment letting it sink in and she catches her breath. This is a lot of talking tonight, even for the Galliard! "Very Good Boy'rhya and his pack did everything they could to get away. But they were hurt bad. They were cubs and did not know healing gifts yet. They used what they could, but fighting off infection and the fight against the elements of insects and worse within this Hell was too much for them. They would rest as they could, but how can you rest against a pile of dead bodies or in puddles of blood? How could anyone survive it? Simply put, they could not." The story, as somber as it could be at this point. A tear falls down Brooke's face. "They were cubs. They were scared. Howling for help would only bring more danger. Every corner was something awful. One by one, horrifying scene by horrifying scene they came upon, each died. Very Good Boy'rhya and his handler were the last ones left. Until the terrible happened, and his handler was suffocated in an avalanche of rotting dead bodies. He tried and could not save him and then - he was alone."
A deep breath and the music becomes just a little picking and strumming. "In a last act of bravery, despite all the madness and horror around, Very Good Boy'rhya came upon men who were hurting some girls. Setting them on fire. He tried to save them, in his breed form as that was all he could manage. These men then beat him with clubs, stabbed him with big forks, stomped him with their boots, and broke his bones and he bled out as they burned him in a final act of violence. He still has nightmares from his death, as I'm sure any one of us would." She rocks for another minute, rubbing her side a moment. "Obviously the story does not end there. Very Good Boy'rhya woke up in a forest. A real one with a blue sky and trees and bushes. He was alone again. He howled and howled. Finally a man came. Perhaps a farmer? He was not sure. The man understood him, as a wolf, and told him that he was okay, and he was a Very Good Boy. He had fought hard and true, and was a role model that every American boy should aspire to be like. Yes, that is how he received his Rite Name. Eventually, he figured out that this man was actually a spirit. The Great American Spirit. The spirit had answered his howls, and gave him comfort, reassurance, food and water. He got a night of peaceful rest for the first time in a long time and then was gone. Very Good Boy'rhya was able to find a help in a nice old couple and made it out of the woods to civilization. He found more help and made his way back to California again from the wilds of Montana where he had woke up. There, he found his handler again. The thing is, his handler had come back in an earlier time period and was much older now. After explaining his story to his home Sept, they welcomed him there as a Cliath, as the spirit had put his seal of approval on him. Sadly though, being around there and old friends was not the same, and it was time to move on. He slipped away and down the coast, and found a place to sleep under the pier at the beach. When he woke up, there were people and he was scared again." She smiles and holds up a finger, "THAT is when Shaderunner'rhya showed up. He found him, got him to safety and made sure he was without taint and healed. Defiant-Storm'rhya gave him a room to live in, and with Shaderunner'rhya's assist then made him a blanket that helps him sleep without the nightmares."
Having finally finished the background, she moves onto the future. "Now, Very Good Boy'rhya has made it a mission to spread the word about the War Dogs, and give people a better understanding about them, and hope they have a better future. Sadly, many of them get trained and taken to warzones and then abandoned. Or a Soldier handler bonds so strongly with his war dog, and when the soldier goes home, the dog cannot go with them. They are used as a tool, and there is no concern over their feelings. They can have PTSD much like the human soldiers. They need their handler, that soldier that they trained with and trusted implicitly. Not to be handed off like a wrench or sold to the highest bidder. Without that person, they can snap and bite, leading them to be put down since no one knows how to really understand them at that point. War Dogs are courageous and this needs to change." Giving a signal, Brooke instructs some others with some pamphlets to walk around and hand out some information to anyone that will take it.
"Being a Glass Walker, Very Good Boy'rhya takes most of his free time to learn and figure things out. He reads lots of books, and as I am sure Giselle will attest, he will take everything apart her can get his hands on to see how it works, and experiment with it. It all comes very natural to him. Although if he is missing for a bit, you can bet that he has moonbridged over to the middle east, slipped in as a German Shepherd and will go help some Glass Walker unit to help out in whatever warfare or training is going on. Keep up with all the new military tech. It is an interesting vacation for sure." Interesting being more weird to others.
Brooke motions to the musicians and others that they are done, and one of them helps her as she stands up. As the rocking chair is taken away, she holds her arms open and says, " Very Good Boy'rhya is far more than just the bacon loving, roomba-battle bot making, Elder Glass Walker that we have met and maybe got covered in BBQ sauce by. He is the picture of courage, and bravery, and I for one am honored to call him my friend." She bows her head to them all. "And with that, I complete my challenge for Athro. Now, are you ready for the Revel!" A sound of excitement as she can hear claps and foot stomps in anticipation of what the chosen Ahroun will lead them in tonight in the final step to recharging the Caern.
The Revel
The stories done, the songs have been sung, and emotions are running high. The chosen Ahroun for this month rushes out and runs around the circle, in lupus form, howling and yipping, his tail brushing along others as he does.
>>Here we go! Here we go! All together now! Let's all cheer, for we are here! Let's DEFEAT THE WYRM!!<<
He continues to jump and encourages the other lupus around to join him in the center as the chant again!
>>ALL TOGETHER NOW! Here we go! Here we go! All together now! Let's all cheer, for we are here! Let's DEFEAT THE WYRM!!<< The Sept as a whole joins in and it gets louder and louder!
The howls ring out throughout the Caern, the anticipation at the max!
>>LET'S HUNT!<<
The chosen Ahroun leads the group out to the bawn as the hunt begins out to seek and obliterate anything the Wyrm could toss at them, before they return to the amphitheater. The final howl from all together as one recharges the power of the Caern for another month!
