2018.10: Moot
| Moot | |
|---|---|
| October 2018 Moot for Sept of the Enduring Spirit | |
| Players | Those performing the Moot Rite: Aleksandr(NPC Roles), Brooke, Johanna, Lleutrim, Skully, Moot |
| Location | Caern Ampitheater |
| Prp/Tp | Monthly Moots= Previous-Next |
| Spheres | Gaian Garou |
Moots are held on +bboard 79 as of June 2018. This is a compilation of the posts for October 2018.
The Fool
Every month, there comes that time when the Sept of the Enduring Spirit must gather in the Caern Amphitheater. The Moot, being an important time for all to gather regardless of their station or disputes with other, to gather news, hear of both history and recent events, and of course recharge the Caern. The circle forms around the Master of the Howl as she waits until the appointed time to begin.
The Fool enters, a young Ragabash, looking about the gathering. “We all know the tenant, to Accept the Honorable Surrender. A good part of the Litany, maybe. But really does anyone deserve a surrender? Will our enemies accept our surrender? Does it not make us weaker to surrender and to accept such?” He scoffs, moving to sit back down.
The Master of the Howl stops the Ragabash. "We take risks everyday when we face our enemies. Choosing when and who we engage in honorable battle takes wisdom and honor. Choosing when to accept we have been bested, or showing respect both ways for an honorable fight is the sign of a notable Garou."
The Fool retorts easily, as he perches on his seat. “A notable, and probably dead Garou. The Wyrm sure as heck doesn’t care if we surrender. And if we show them mercy, they’ll just take advantage of it. Isn’t this how we should treat all things? Like war. Only the strong survive.” Having said his peace, the Fool sits back down properly again, leaving his words to be contemplated.
Opening Howl
The Master of the Howl steps forward as she raises her hand up to signal it is time to begin to those gathered.
"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 this Moot to begin!" She takes in a long breath, closes her eyes and slips her head back to let out her greeting howl. All those present invited to join in, and most do.
As the howls fade down, the Sept becomes silent again. The Master of the Howl raises her hand again before she 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, including the cubs from the recent Rite of Passage that did not survive. She leads a mournful howl in honor of them all.
"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. Let us begin with the Litany, reminding us all," she looks toward The Fool, "of our ancient laws." The Master of the Howl walks back over to him, giving him a look of 'listen up!'
Beginning her recitation, she goes over the first three parts of the litany. "Accept an Honorable Surrender! When a dispute between Garou turns to challenge, do /not/ let your Rage cloud your judgment! If a Garou offers his throat in surrender, act with HONOR and show mercy to him. You have proven your superiority. Participating in an Honorable challenge will be respected for both the winner and the loser." A pause, "The loser, on the other hand, should not use it as a chance to bring up the same issues again, or get snarky after his surrender is accepted. The dispute is then closed."
The Fool, A Ragabash rited Laughing Moon looks up at the Master of Howl and rises. “Ah, but strength is all that matters! If I am stronger, than I will do as I wish. That is the wolf. They are weak and deserve death! That is nature! The strong survive. This keeps the Nation strong!” Surely an unpopular opinion, but one that certainly rings true in some ears. A dangerous thought.
The Master of the Howl shakes her head, "Strength matters, but look around. If strength is all that matters then perhaps we only need one Auspice. If we only want the strong, then let's take only those of us born with the most Rage, and get rid of everyone but the Ahrouns. See how silly that sounds? It takes the full cycle of the moon, much like every Auspice to keep the Nation strong. Have you listened to the stories told at the Moot? Strength is not always the smartest tactic. Knowing how to use your gifts to their utmost, will see you through even the toughest opponent."
A finger goes up then as The Fool walks around in a circle, considering. “Ah, but another thing. The same issue, if it occurs again, is it a new issue or not? Certainly this challenge does not extend forever and based solely on the topic.” The Fool flips on his position, as he is wont to do. “Does might actually make right? Is there not some grey, some in between that makes the loser still have a point and the winner still somewhat wrong? Nothing is so concrete, so absolute. Such a contest does not prove right and wrong!”
Taking a step further out, Master of the Howl undaunted continues, "If there is a dispute, that is up to the Truthcatcher and the Philodox to decide. The Master of the Challenge would have something to say as well. There is a reason we have them to help us with upholding the Litany. From what I have seen, when the Truthcatcher makes a decision, it ends there and she upholds that." She looks back to The Fool, "Any challenge that ends in an Honorable Surrender should be respected. Stopping, showing restraint and respect by accepting a surrender from your opponent not only pleases Gaia, it is the proper way to solve problems. It is important that we negate needless deaths as every warrior is needed in our battles against the Wyrm. Accidents may happen when Rage gets out of control, but that is why we teach our cubs how to control it before their Rite of Passage. That is why we continue to test ourselves.
“Mercy for each other, teaches us mercy against the enemy. They will not show mercy, we should not either.” The Fool finishes his last objection and walks back towards his seat.
A hand goes up again, and the Master of the Howl finishes the remaining portion of the Litany. The Fool sits back down as the Litany is completed. He nods to the Master of the Howl, “Well, maybe there is a point there, keeping us all alive so that we can continue to fight for Gaia.”
The Inner Sky
Bane-Breaker gets a nod from the Master of Howl and the Rite Mistress steps forward in a long white robe. It depicts many glyphs, most of them in red, some depicting Bear, others depicting the four directions. Four other, similarly dressed Theurges join her. Each in a white robe, each with glyphs, though in their case, they each only depict on direction: North, South, East and West. They are all silent as they gather themselves around in a circle. Each one kneeling in correspondence with the direction they represent. Bane-Breaker dances around the outside to them, as it begins in silence. As she performs a circle in the silent dance, she weaves her way through the four other Theurge’s before she settles in the middle and kneels herself.
Then she begins thanking the spirits in their tongue. For their protection and that of the Caern. Invoking Bear then to come forth with donation of berries and food in the center circle as she calls out in the spirit’s language. The feeling of Bear, his presence falls over the center of the circle as he arrives. The Theurge splaying herself to thank him for watching over the Caern and for its protection. Then she rises and turns towards the East and the Theurge there.
As if a dance, the Theurge rises in his robes covered in rune for the east wind and that of the sun. His face more clear now, painted with that of the sun on it in yellow. As he rises his hands come out in front of him upwards, making an offering towards Bane-Breaker in the middle. Soon a small glowing light begins to rise from his hands and hang there above the circle like the sun. He too thanks Bear and all the spirits for protecting the Caern in their tongue, bowing his head.
As he finishes Mara turns to the South. As she does, the female Theurge in robes rises too, the same as the east, hands splayed before her. Her hair a fiery red, and on her face is painted a wild fire. Fire begins to spark in her hands and ignites from nothing. Below her, a pile of twigs take the flame and begin to light, s mall fire forming. She also thanks Bear and the spirits for watching over the Caern in their tongue and then bows her head deeply.
Once more, Bane-Breaker turns, this time to the west. Another female Theurge in white robes and runes rises slowly, hand out before her in offering like those before her. Her face visible, it is just a sea of blue. Her hands fill with water and as she thanks the spirits and bear, she opens her fingers slowly, letting the water in them sprinkle to the ground like falling rain. When done, she bows her head, the last drop of water hitting the ground below.
Lastly, Mara turns towards the North. The last of the Theurges rises, face completely painted in white. As he thanks the spirits and Bear for their protection a cold wind blows through the gathering, the fire flutters and a chill is felt by all. As the Theurge finishes his thanks, the cold wind dies down and his head bows.
Mara turns her face to the sky and reaches her hands into a pouch. Her hands then rise to towards the sky and dirt begins to sprinkle from them towards the ground as she does. She turns, creating a circle with it as she does so, covering all directions. She turns to look out at those gathered, speaking for the first time in the Garou Tongue rather than that of the Spirits. <<We thank all the spirits for the protection and blessings. We thank the winds and Gaia for all her blessings. We thank you Bear for your protection and watch over this sacred place.>> The roar of a Bear feels like it can be heard carried on the winds.
Cracking the Bone
The Master of the Howl gives a nod toward the Truthcatcher, who then nods to Johanna. Walking out into the circle, she announces, "I am Johanna Isla Cooper, rite named Starchaser, born on two legs beneath the Half Moon, Adren of the Stargazers." Before anyone comes forward she says, "Let me begin with saying this. There has been much talk about how 'No means No'. I have spoken with some Garou that claim they have done nothing wrong, and some realize later and take responsibility. Showing hospitality to your kinfolk or cubs is fine, so long it doesn't fall into a situation where they feel that favors are expected and they cannot say No. Similarly, if any Garou feels that a kinfolk is doing everything they can to get your attention, even if you have said you are not interested in them that way, No still means No. Bring this to the Den Father and/or the Truthcatcher, as well as your tribe Elder. Do not let it fester, you are not alone. It isn't happening a lot, but even one time is more than enough." She gestures outward, "On behalf of the Truthcatcher I ask you, who has business?"
One Elder steps forward. He bows his head to Johanna, and she hands over the talking stick. He begins, "I am Loves-the-Dark, Elder Ahroun of the Children of Gaia. I seek your judgment tonight concerning my daughter, Isabella Rose." He gestures for her. "She is of age to be mated. The problem is, she has being pressured by a Garou of this Sept." His eyes go straight across the circle to the one in question. "The Cliath known as Furious Laughter, Ragabash of the Get of Fenris has been following her around when she goes out of our property. If he catches her alone, he gets too close and does not listen to the warnings about how 'No means No'. He seems to think that his charisma and looks means that he can get up close and too personal with my daughter." He hands the stick back to Johanna.
With deep respect for the Elder, and his daughter, she motions for the Ragabash in question to come out. The man walks forward, with a swagger and a smirk on his face. Before he even gets to Johanna to take the talking stick he's signaling to the crowd, saying, "What a joke! We all know what Isabella wants! Who wouldn't want a piece of this!" He gestures to his body, centering of course on his libido. He walks up to Johanna, and places a hand on her shoulder, and whispers in her ear something, while taking the stick from her hand. Johanna's eyes grow colder, and she knocks his hand from her shoulder. "Hands off. Give your response, and then I will judge."
Smirking and then blowing a kiss to Johanna and a wink to Isabella Rose, Furious Laughter replies, "If that is the way you would like it, Starchaser. Now Loves-the-Dark here, he just does not like me. He only wants another Ahroun for his daughter. I am strong, handsome, fun loving, and can not only show the ladies a good time, but I can give many strong warriors from my seed. All the kinfolk ladies want to be with me, and swoon when I walk by. But I only want the best for my line. Around here, Isabella is the best, and don't I deserve the best? She may be playing hard to get, but I can tell she is just holding off because her father does not like me. She is of age now, and we are in the perfect place for this. Right here, right now I claim Isabella Rose as my mate!" He turns with a sparkling smile to the kinfolk woman. "Come here, let me hold you and we can affirm this here. Then we'll go home and get started on that family together." He waggles his eyebrows to her and blows a kiss.
Loves-the-Dark, has an arm around his daughter, his blood boiling with Rage, but this is not the place for letting it loose. Not yet. Johanna walks up to Furious Laughter and puts a hand out for the talking stick. Once in her hand, she walks over to Isabella Rose and hands it to her saying, "This is concerning you. Please speak your mind and wishes." She steps back and allows the Kinwoman to speak.
"With all due respect, Furious Laughter'rhya, I do not love you, I do not want you as a mate. Truth be told, I have been trying to meet with another. One that I do have feelings for." She pleads to her father. "He has left me flowers, notes, and he left you the Belt of the Unicorn fetish that you mistakenly thought was from another." Another Garou comes out from the circle, and walks over to Isabella and she rushes into his arms. "This is who I want." She gives the new Garou the talking stick.
Bowing his head to Loves-the-Dark, he says, "I am Shadows Fall, Fostern Theurge of the Wendigo. I have searched high and low for someone to be my other half. The spirits led me to Isabelle Rose. I only wish for her happiness, be it with me or with another." Turning to her father, he says, "Elder Loves-the-Dark'rhya. I wish to formally claim your daughter as my mate, as she has chosen me. I am not of your tribe, but I will protect your daughter and be loyal to her the rest of my days." He looks over to Furious Laughter, and with the stick he points at the man. "Furious Laughter has done nothing be assault Isabella Rose, and try to slime his way into her skirts, spreading rumors of things she has done with him, and not take no for an answer. I have sought out the spirits on this, and they agree that he does not deserve to be a Fostern with the way he behaves." He hands the stick back to Johanna.
Johanna asks Loves-the-Dark first, "Before I render my judgment here, please answer Shadows Fall's claim of your daughter." Without a word, Loves-the-Dark pulls both Shadows Fall and Isabella rose into a bear hug with a huge grin, obviously accepting the claim. Johanna smiles and then puts up her hands, the stick in one hand. All eyes on her and silence around. Furious Laughter though is rolling his eyes, and then juts a thumb back toward the happy family. "Good luck satisfying her." He makes a small inch like gesture and then a lewd one.
"It is my judgment that Furious Laughter is not only in violation of 'No means No', but ..." at that moment those that can see it, a spirit of a Pegasus appears behind Johanna and nuzzles her from behind. She may not be a Theurge, but she is able to recognize the spirit and hear it when it makes itself known. Taking a moment, she listens to the spirit, and thanks it. As the spirit disappears as quickly as it came, Johanna continues, "...the spirits agree. They have seen your poor relations with local kinfolk women on multiple occasions, and being disrespectful and speaking without permission at the Moot, as well the spirits informed me they heard what you were saying to your pack about Black Furies. You have until the next Moot to earn back your Honor and Wisdom you needed to be recognized as Fostern. If you do not, then you will be known as a Cliath until you have earned it back in the eyes of the spirits."
Furious Laughter looks annoyed, and is about to say something to snap back, but a hand on his shoulder from another Elder stops him and he becomes compliant, and bows towards them all, and walks off from the circle with the Elder. Loves-the-Dark holds his hand out to Johanna for the talking stick. Once in his hand he announces. "It is with great joy that I announce the joining of my daughter, Isabella Rose to Shadows Fall. May Gaia and the many spirits bless them both!" He hands back the talking stick to Johanna, and together the happy family walks back out of the circle.
Several others come forward for judgment, and one by one each issue is settled. Johanna returns the talking stick to Howls-at-High-Moon, and they leave the circle.
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.
Story: Rite of Passage
When Hushed Blaze'rhya indicates it is his turn, Lleutrim walks out before everyone gathered around for the Moot and smiles. He lifts up his grey eyes to look over the Amphitheatre without sign of being nervous. Lleu projects his baritone to carry easily, “Good evening. I am Lleutrim Robert Donnachaidh, Rite named Battle Singer, born on two legs beneath the gibbous moon, Fianna and Cliath of the Sept of Enduring Spirit.”
"Tonight, I am going to tell you the story of my Rite of Passage. This is a true story and one that can be verified with they who accompanied me for this is their tale as well.” Lleu takes a few slow steps around the Amphitheater as he speaks, “Those cubs who would join the Fianna of the area gathered together at the Caern of the Enduring Spirit Sept at the end of September. There was much feasting, dancing, drinking - though no alcohol for us who were about to embark on our Rite. Calls-Down-the-Rain-rhya gave a speech and told us to strip naked. Theurges came forward with blue woad and painted glyphs all over our bodies.”
Here the Galliard has lifted his hands to trace glyphs with his fingers as though painting, and then Lleutrim puts his hands together as though holding a bowl, “A nasty, bitter tea was passed around to each of us. I believe it contained a drug to aid us in our visions. Once we drank of it, then the drums /really/ started pounding! I could feel the pulse of the drums reverberate right through my body, my heart beat joining in their rhythm. Lots of howling and dancing! Spirits gathered, swirling in a vortex until a great rift opened, casting an emerald light!" He throws up his hands to emphasize the rift’s form and majesty!
"The elder Fianna directed we cubs to walk through the rift. All twelve of us came into a glade within a deep hollow with trees on all sides of us. Down in the mossy, grassy center was a huge stone carved with the likeness of Stag. It was the perfect spring morning with dappled light. Very old, the stone was decorated with glyphs of the First Saga of Stag and of the Fianna. Behind that lay a tunnel into the earth. I shifted to lupus and proceeded in the form of a wolf for the sharper senses.” The Galliard bends and stoops down onto all fours, “Drugged, I kept feeling the walls closing in tighter, and I saw things that were not there. Flickering moths that glowed in the darkness and things that may have been fairies. Another cub pushed me out of the way to take the lead.” Lleu side steps abruptly as though shoved aside, “In his haste he stumbled through a tile set into the dark cave's floor. We heard his yelp and the sickening crunch, then could smell the blood. Below was a hollow pit filled with sharp spikes upon which he was impaled! There was nothing we could do to help him, for he was dead." Lleu looks grim, peering down into the pit he has described.
"Together, Sully who would become known as Death’s Jester, and the Theurge cub with us, figured out that the tiles were marked with symbols for the tribal broods. I could associate some with Stag - others looked like animals and spirits of other tribes. I set out to try and cross. I almost made it, but I misplaced my footing. It was very dark and very difficult to see! The tile beneath my weight broke!” Here Lleu makes the motions as though a wolf were trying to leap and run across a dangerous path, “I scrambled and clung to the edge. I would have fallen if it weren't for daring and graceful Isla, whom you now know as Fiery Bellona, for she danced across easy as you please and hauled me up. Death’s Jester, myself, and Fiery Bellona all helped the rest of the cubs across without further loss."
Lleutrim shapes an opening with his hands as he slowly walks forward, "Ahead the tunnel grew lighter and there were carvings in the walls of a great battle lead by Stag. As we came forth from the tunnel, it was indeed a great battle that we heard. People I knew were fighting minions of the Wyrm. Shield Brother-rhya was there, and Broken Claw-rhya, and Weathers the Storm-rhya, all fighting. Shaderunner-rhya, Defiant Storm-rhya, and Eye of the Storm-rhya along with his pack, and all my old buddies from the Marine Corps I'd been deployed with in Kuwait, Iraq, Afghanistan, and even the Philippines .. they were all fighting desperately, lead by Stag himself, black with shining eyes!” Here he raises up an arm as though wielding a weapon and fiercely fighting, “But /they/ were losing! Falling back, crushed by Black Spiral Dancers and formori! I even saw Faith Donahue herself, fighting desperately and then ..."
Here he pauses grimly, "I saw her, this kinfolk, cut down before my very eyes. Beheaded.” His baritone has dropped in volume, then begins quickly to rise almost to thunder, “I thought my fury would overwhelm and I would frenzy for certain!” A breath, hands held up as though to claw and rend the very air! Lleutrim lowers his voice, “Somehow I didn't frenzy, though I felt the rage well up, rushing! I leapt into the fray shifting to hispo and snarled my fury! I went after that Black Spiral that I thought I saw kill this woman I cared about. I knew in my heart that it might not be real. She couldn't really /be/ there ... that Weathers the Storm-rhya wasn't there, nor Eye of the Storm-rhya or my Marine Corps buddies, but ... I just couldn't think. I attacked! I ripped open that Spiral's chest and kept going! The other cubs were right behind me, howling fiercely! Some had frenzied, joining the battle. Death’s Jester, and then Fiery Bellona, tore into the same Spiral I did, using pack tactics so that together we brought him down!”
The Galliard takes a few steps, sweeping his arms as he describes the scene, "As we engaged, it seemed that we helped to rally Stag's forces, and our friends! The tide of the battle began to shift in our favor. I and the others took wounds, but we were still fueled by our anger and grief. Several people I cared about lay dead in the trampled, bloody grass. There was one HUGE black Spiral left, rearing up with so many spear points and arrows already stuck in him, but none able to defeat him! They all broke against him like the tide throwing itself against a jagged cliff! Myself and the other cubs who hadn't frenzied rallied ourselves to make a final, hard assault to lend our friends aid!”
"I leapt for this Wyrm tainted leader's face! I ravaged his eyes!” The Galliard mimes clawing and biting, “I was then trying to get a jaw lock on his head or neck to hold him for the others to attack but he struck me with something! I don't even know what it was .. a blade?" The Galliard reaches around with his right hand to indicate his back and left shoulder, "The blow nearly felled me! When I looked up, Death’s Jester was on him, magnificently wounding the Wyrm Leader! Fiery Bellona was shooting arrows into the Spiral, piercing him expertly, hair like flame billowing around her face! They too suffered wounds in taking the Spiral leader down. But we did it together. And then the battle was over..." His hands he drops, looking exhausted, barely able to keep his feet, eyes down cast.
Lleu looks around at them all, having been walking about the Moot space while casting his baritone forth, "All of our friends were gone, and Stag also. But the dead remained. We lost three of the cubs in that fight, as well as many friends. We who had lived were dazed and wounded, lying about trying to heal and recover. Grieving for our losses or glad to be alive. After a while, someone shouted in horror! Rousing us, we came to see. There was a cliff and spread out below as far as we could see the land was at war. Garou against the agents of the Wyrm, and in the distance giant creatures with tentacle heads and gaping mouths. Where they walked the earth was being ... unmade." Lleu grimaces, "We couldn't hope to fight those. The only way down was a trail, a path that lead into a cavern within a crevasse and something gleaming within. So, weary, grief stricken and battle sore, we had no choice but to leave our dead and descend to the cavern, uncertain what to do. My heart was heavy."
"Within the cavern the walls were painted in great murals depicting more of Stag's sagas, the stories of the Fianna. Down the middle the ceiling was split open to the sky, similar to but much smaller than our Caern. Sunlight spilled down on emerald moss. A great slanted stone rose up from the floor of the cave and set out upon it was a pristine white ceramic plate with ..." The Galliard keeps a perfectly straight face, "a sandwich."
"It was a nice, rich, thick sub piled with meat, vegetables and sauces. It smelled fantastic! Yet it made NO SENSE. It wasn't a salmon of knowledge, nor anything else I could remember from Celtic tales! Just delicious smelling …” The Galliard shifts his mouth and reaches forth, “I almost couldn't stop myself from going up to eat it! I looked at the others. None of knew what to do. So, I decided, we must have faith in Stag. When things look their darkest, and make the least sense, you can't give up hope. We must trust that the spirits and Gaia will help us if possible, to guide us, if we but keep trying. I changed from Hispo to Glabro and picked up that sandwich. I took a bite of it." Here he mimes doing so.
Lleutrim smiles a little bit, "Only, as soon as I bit into it, everyone around me disappeared! I was standing in the same cave with the same rock with nothing in my hand. Before me on the stone stood STAG himself, the most magnificent beast I ever saw. I was still naked, covered in blood and the glyphs painted in blue woad. One by one the other cubs showed up after biting the sandwich as well. Death’s Jester and Fiery Bellona, then the remaining others. 8 of us left alive of the original 12. I knelt before Stag and bowed my head, and all the others did too. Stag welcomed us and called us his children. He asked us what we had learned." The Galliard gets down on one knee and bows his head as if before Stag.
"We each of us took our turn to speak what we thought we had learned from the three challenges. Weaver Tunnel, Wyrm Battle, and Wyld Cavern. Death’s Jester said 'That the safest path was trusting in Stag. That battles are won and lost by the pack, not by the Garou. That things are often not what they seem, and not everything you find strange is automatically dangerous.' Fiery Bellona said 'Learned to work together. On all accounts. We all have something to give in each place. Knowledge. Strength. Wisdom. Heroism. Inspiration.' and I said, 'In the tunnel we learned we must work together. To share our knowledge, to lend assistance to one another, lest we fall one by one. At the battle against the Wyrm, we lent aid where it was needed, even when the battle looked to be lost. Working together we were able to turn the tide and win the fight. At the last, the sandwich was about trusting in Stag, having faith and hope when all else seemed despair’ The rest of us answered similarly and Stag was pleased."
Now the Galliard rises to stand once more, "After that the rift opened and we walked back through into the Caern to be welcomed as Fianna Cliaths! There was much feasting, dancing, fornication, drinking, while each of us in turn received our Rite Names. Sully became 'Death's Jester', Isla to be known as 'Fiery Bellona', and myself to be named 'Battle Singer'. Laid out in the Caern were our dead companions, the four cubs who did not survive the Rite of Passage. What we learned together should not be forgotten."
Battle Singer looks out over all whom are gathered for the Moot, “Thank you for listening.” The Galliard turns, still in his homid form, and walks back to return the floor to Hushed Blaze-rhya.
Story: Terror and Dinner
Mercy's Messenger makes her way with her walking staff into the open and smiles at the moot gathered Garou, launching into a story without much preamble. "Hi, I'm Iris, Mercy's Messenger, Black Fury Theurge, for those that don't know me. I moved here to Prospect from way over in Maine's wilderness. Most of the journey I took on foot in the physical world, by air in the Umbra some times, and on the rare occasion I hitched a ride through particularly rough spots. It was a great trip, I mean it took MONTHS to make it clear across the country, but it was beautiful. I had a lot of interesting things happen on that trip, a couple bad things but mostly pretty good or just plain weird. I wanted to tell you about one of the weirdest, most terrifying moments on this trip though, about the time I nearly died and then got a free dinner."
She begins her talespinning while walking around the edge of the circle, mimicing her long trek cross country while she speaks. "I was hiking through some low hills between pockets of civilization, I forget where, and the little town that I was headed to was only maybe ten miles away, on the other side of a couple hills. Beautiful country, the weather was fair and I was really enjoying myself and my surroundings. So much so that I let time completely get away from me, and before I knew it, it was already getting dark and I hadn't made it to where I was headed yet. I wasn't too worried, I could rely on my lupus senses once the sun went down, but I *was* starting to get awfully worn out. Should have set up a camp somewhere and just taken an extra day. Suddenly though, I was really glad I hadn't, because I heard something in the light hill forests with me."
Mercy's Messenger's expression conveys at first wonder, but then growing concern as she speaks and moves, beginning to glance over her shoulder with growing trepidation. "At first it was just rustling and I wasn't worried, but I swear whatever it was had been tracking me, following my winding path, and that really started to bother me. After a few miles of this, it was starting to worry me to boot. Now, keep in mind, at the time I was a fresh faced Cliath, the most action I'd ever seen was in my Rite of Passage, and frankly that wasn't all *that* much. So when I heard the most hellish sound imaginable, like a banshee mixed with a dragon mixed with a blender, it freaked me right the hell out." Here, she manages an expression of true fear as she whirls around and begins to back up, her walking staff held white knuckled and ready in shaking hands.
The Fury whirls around again and runs across the amphitheater in fear while she speaks, first this way and then that way, like prey on the run before a predator. "I sped up, and I'm not ashamed to say I started panicking a bit when I could *hear* it following me, sometimes making that horrible sound, that loud, screaming, wail of sheer evil that reverberated all over the hills and trees around me. I wouldn't even feel bad if some of you thought me cowardly for not standing my ground and issuing a challenge. But remember, banshee-dragon-blender! I was imagining a host of Wyrm spawn, some kind of war-fomori army, maybe a Black Spiral Dancer pack, and here I am just all on my onesy with only the couple Theurge gifts I learned before setting out to follow prophetic visions to the west. So, sure, yeah, I was totally a coward, and I ran my *ass* off! Whatever the hell that thing was, there was no way I alone could handle it, my best bet was to get somewhere safe, find more Garou, and tell them about it so a proper war party could be drummed up, and I figured wisdom was better than glory at that moment."
Mercy's Messenger's running skids to a stop and she gives the Garou audience a terribly worried look as she says, "The problem was, I wasn't gonna make it. Once *I* started running, the creature in my back trail also started running, chasing me through the deepening dark. I couldn't see it, but I could hear it. 'But Iris, why didn't you run as a wolf, at the very least?' you might ask! Well it's not like I didn't think about it, but I was *so* close to a town, I was worried I might burst out onto a road and freak a bunch of humans out, and you know how people can get. Wolf bursts into town, and it's time to put that gun rack in your truck to good use! No, I had to deal with this in homid if I could, so that I could preserve the veil as well as keep notice down. 'But Iris, why didn't you flee to the spirit world, then?' is another good question I've been asked! I've got great answers for that, too! If there was a terrible thing in the physical world, then there'd likely be worse with it in the spirit world. I was running and it was dark, I couldn't manage to concentrate. I had to believe in myself and surpass my own limits, earn my right to live. Great answers! But absolutely none of them are true. Honestly? I straight up forgot I could do that while I was in panic mode." She flops her hands and rolls her eyes upwards with an exasperated sigh at her past self.
"So there I am, running like a friggin idiot through the woods, now uphill, with some doom beast right behind me, and I could *really* hear it as I was scrambling up that hill. I could hear its massive feet thudding behind me, crushing dry things in its path. I could hear its heavy breath as it rushed up the hill, mere yards behind me, and I'm not gonna lie, I was so scared I felt like a little bitty cub all over again and frankly I'm lucky I didn't pee my pants. It grunted, it panted, it screamed that bone chilling sound and just as I reached the top of the hill, the glittering lights of a little one horse town spilled out below me past a treeless slope, it attacked!" On that last word, she jump scares a group of cubs, her free hand held up with fingers crooked like claws, one of the lupus pups yelping loudly and scrambling up across a homid's lap to hide behind him. This homid oofs and wails as his tribal jewels get smooshed by a small yet heavy paw. The Fury gives him a sympathetic grin and then continues.
"Just as I topped the hill something hit me HARD from behind, right in my butt, throwing me forward off the top of the hill! I rolled and tumbled down towards the town with that terrible scream raging behind me, and one of my own flying from my lips as I flipped end over end and skidded through bushes!" Mercy's Messenger drops her staff and executes several daring flips and tumbles with expert ease and far less flailing or ridiculousness than actually occurred in her past. "I skidded down the last of the hill and slammed into the back door of some building hard enough to bash it open and tumble right in, knocking over some poor schmuck carrying a stack of dishes! Fortunately for the both of us, it was the waxing crescent moon, so instead of shattered plates everywhere, I caught a whole stack undamaged right on my lap as I started to scream and wail like a frightened girl. 'It's gonna GET ME!' Yes, yes I had lost all pride and I actually said that." The Fury facepalms and shakes her head with a laugh at herself.
Spreading her hands and waggling her head side to side, she goes on, "So this poor startled bus boy in the kitchen of the diner that I just crashed into helps me and the plates up, and to his credit he launched himself at the door to slam it shut against the axe murderer that was surely chasing me. He says kind things and helps me out into the main room of the restaurant and sits me down at the counter, telling the waitress what a terrible scare I just had and that someone was chasing me. So, stupid me, I immediately blurt out that it was a monster, which of course got everyone to shut up and look at me like I'm an idiot. Believe me, I felt like one, because honestly, guard your tongue, woman! And just then, as the lightly filled diner falls quiet at my claims, there's that *sound* again, that HORRIBLE sound! And you know what they do? DO YOU??" She manages to look entirely belligerent and baffled at the same time now.
"THEY LAUGHED! And here I am, staring at these people as they whoop it up, convinced THEY'RE the ones that are crazy. Some good old boy sees the look on my face, horror mixed with fear mixed with affront, and he tells me, 'Don't you worry, little lady, you found old Rogers' missing goat.' And I'm like... A goat. A GOAT? No, no way that was a goat. Not even likely!" Another eye roll here, and she falls quiet a moment so that moot goers can go ahead and have a good laugh at her expense, trying and failing to hide her own grin. "So the guy makes a phone call to this Rogers person to tell him about it, and a moment later he says the owner's coming by with his pickup to come get the damned thing. Now, I'm arguing. I'm telling them no way in *hell* is that a goat! And then the sound comes again, terrible screaming just muffled by the windows and the light sounds from the radio, and everyone there agrees that yes, that is in fact what a pissed off goat sounds like."
"About ten minutes later, Rogers shows up, I point him in the right direction, and after another ten minutes I see him out in the parking lot hoisting a goat no bigger than a yearling wolf up into the back of his truck, a little rope around its neck getting tied into place so it can't hop out or anything. I'm still thinking to myself, there's *no way*, but then the goat opens its mouth and makes that *sound* again, so much louder from within the parking lot!" The Fury makes another exasperated flop of her hands and stomps around in a little circle, "It was a GOAT! The horrible Wyrm beast, the fomori army, no no, none of that at all! Not a Dancer pack rushing after me, not a friggin war troll slamming me in the butt with its club, no I got chased for a couple miles and then head butted, RIGHT in the butt, by a damned escaped farm animal that probably thought *I* was the threat!"
Mercy's Messenger 'uuuuuuugh!'s at the whole thing, "But the guy was really thankful for getting his barn yard minder back, and in return for helping him out, and for me getting so scared and all banged up by the damned thing, he paid and tipped the waitress and said I should get anything on the menu that I wanted. Lemme tell you, I ate like a queen that night, and I opted to spend the night in a cheap little motel for once rather than sleep out unprotected in escaped goat territory!"
"So, what did I learn from this whole stupid, stupid adventure? Even a dumb, really weird experience is full of wisdom. First of all, stop forgetting I'm a Theurge, for one thing. Second, sometimes jumping the gun and assuming something is bad terrible danger is okay. I mean, at first I thought not facing off when I thought I was probably out matched was a smart thing, and I just *assumed* I was out matched. Don't make assumptions before you have facts! If I'd assumed the other way, turned, gone war form and prepared to do battle, I might have killed that goat by claw or fear. Then it'd be dead and a farmer would be without a part of his livelihood, and might never know what'd happened to it. And last? Sometimes just *being* human is okay. Complete with all the stupid failings. The fear, the need to be near others. There's a lot of ways this could have turned out, some worse than others, but that night I was shown genuine kindness, people that had never even seen or met me were willing to protect me, to feed me and treat me with kindness regardless of whether or not I'd been a bone head scared by a farm animal. Humans can be pretty terrible some times, but they can also be incredibly good, kind, and generous."
The Fury waves a hand and picks up her walking staff again, "Any how that's all I got for my Night of Terror and how I got myself a free dinner. Sorta free, anyhow. Have fun, family, and be good to each other! And watch out for goats in the woods!" She takes a bow and accepts some applause and laughter before walking out of the clearing to settle herself in the stands with the rest once more.
The Revel
There have been stories proclaimed, songs sung, deeds acknowledged; the weight of history and pride has begun to heat into the fire of action, inspiring the Garou thusly gathered to their own lives and the goals they would achieve. The chosen Ahroun for this month steps forward in his War Form; it is Weathers-the-Storm, Fostern Metis, Den Father, and Waning Ya'pahe of the Wendigo, well-known to all in attendance. The colossal Ahroun balls his fists, drumming on his chest in a solid, steady rhythm, the edges of his claws pricking his flesh and drawing drops of blood.
<< WARRIORS OF GAIA, I ASK YOU -- WHO ARE WE? >>
The goliath Crinos continues beating his chest, pacing in front of the crowd, gazing at them all with one burning golden eye and the depthless black abyss beside it, the sign of his birth. He stares meaningfully at the crowd, and some of the younger Garou begin copying him, drumming proudly on their own chests.
<< SONS AND DAUGHTERS OF THE GAROU, I SEE ALL OF YOU! WAR LEADERS, TRICKSTERS, WISE ONES, JUDGES! SINGERS, TALETELLERS, GREAT MAKERS, SEEKERS OF TRUTH! KINFOLK, CUBS, HONORED FAMILY AND BLOODED FRIENDS! THAT IS WHO /YOU/ ARE, BUT I ASK AGAIN -- WHO ARE WE? >>
Some of the rowdier Garou begin calling out answers, but Weathers-the-Storm continues drumming on his chest, standing tall enough to make clear eye contact even with the furthest back row.
<< I TELL YOU NOW, MY SISTERS AND BROTHERS, THAT WE ARE THE ENDLESS FIRE! I SAY WE ARE THE VIGILANT GUARDIAN! I TELL YOU THAT WE ARE THE SOLDIERS WHO DO NOT FALL, THE KEEPERS OF THE FIRST PROMISE! WHEN WE STAND UNITED, WE ARE THE BASTION THAT WILL NOT BREAK AND THE CLAWS THAT WILL NOT YIELD! WE ARE THE SEPT OF THE ENDURING SPIRIT, AND BY GAIA, IT IS TIME TO SHOW THE WYRM WHAT THAT MEANS! >>
Howls begin rising in response to that, and finally Weathers-the-Storm ceases his drumming, holding two fists over his head.
<< JOIN ME, WARRIORS OF GAIA! TOGETHER, OUR HOWLS WILL STRIKE FEAR INTO THE VERY HEART OF THE WYRM, AND TODAY HE WILL KNOW OUR NAME! >>
The mammoth Crinos leaps onto all fours, flowing into his oversized lupus form, and leads the charge from the Moot, with Garou eagerly pushing and leaping to follow after, ready to expend their Rage in Gaia's name and celebrate the end of the Rite and the beginning of the Revel.
