November Moot
Nov. 20th, 2010 03:04 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
shelbyrouIt is currently 12:50 Pacific Time on Sat Nov 20 2010.
Currently the moon is in the waxing Full (Ahroun) Moon phase (94% full).
By the Waterfall
The walls of the canyon surrounding the caern reach upwards to thirty feet here, their highest point. About two-thirds of the way up, a small underground spring exits the rock face. The water spills playfully down the cliff face, caressing the rocks and darting away, but always falling to gravity's inexorable pull. The flow, upon entering the shallow, chilled pool of water at the bottom, creates constant ripples in the puddle's surface. A light mist rises up from the ground near the pool, chilling to the bone.
The forest surrounding the caern's border is far less dense than the rest of the nearby forest, with ferns and clumps of aspen taking the place of white pine and birch. Scattered, centuries-old cedar stand majestically over their fallen, decaying, moss-covered comrades. This peculiarity seems to surround only the area just outside the caern.
To the west, cool mist kicked up by the falls mingles with warmer steam from geothermal sources; these mists swirl around the caern to the north. The caern's center lies northwest of here. You can pick out what seems to be a hazardous trail over rock and up the wall, to the side of the waterfall.
Obvious exits:
Steam Vents Center Windy Spot Up the Trail
By the steam vents, Norman kneels among the columns of rising steam, a small knife in his hand. Ignoring anything else going on around him, the Godi slowly sketches into his flesh with the knife-point, his breath slow and deliberate as he works.
At the center, Hungry slinks in quietly and positions herself at the edge of the caern.
At the center, Reforges-the-Lost is sitting quietly near the Caern's center, already in Crinos, arms resting against her knees. Her head is tilted very slightly, a contemplative look upon her visage while she stares up at the sky. An ear tilts toward one pathway and then another as others begin to arrive. As though this were a cue, the young Galliard stands tall, confident. In rising to her full height she tilts her head back, muzzle lifting to the skies, and lets out a long, loud howl.
At the center, Reforges-the-Lost can be heard to howl, ~Garou of the Hidden Walk, warriors of Gaia! Luna shines brightly and sings to us. Her words call us to gather together at the Caern. Come! It's time to Moot!~
At the center, Golden comes down the trail, moving gingerly and wincing now and then. His usual care in navigating into the Caern is redoubled, and he slinks to a spot in easy view of Falcon's-Gambit and settles down, looking physically tired, if not mentally. His ears lift and fall at Reforges' howl.
At the center, Rat-Tale arrives on pattering paws along the valley into the Caern. The Gnawer is probably a shock to anybody who hasn't seen her in this particular shape- a black-and-white mongrel dog, complete with a same tatty leather collar. She comes to a sliding stop at the back, suddenly cautious as she assesses her welcome and looks for somewhere to settle.
At the center, Snakepatcher treads into the caern with his usual heavy steps, his head turned towards the gathering of Garou.
Falcon's Gambit, water glistening like pearls on her fur, paces within the mist. As the howl goes up to gather she jerks bipedal and smooths her muzzle, then gives her pelt a quick grooming. The Strider ragabash catches her attention for a moment, but once he's settled she crouches down again, ears pricking toward Rat-Tale.
At the center, Two Walkers that had been on the edge of the caern in quiet discussion fall silent at the howl and hustle over to get a nice spot to settle down. On-Star fusses with the cow bone in her hands as she whispers again to Bridge-Builder.
In the windiest area, Reforges-the-Lost, following her call to gather, moves from the center and into the swirling winds. There she stands and observes those of the Sept able to attend come into the Caern, the wind teasing and ruffling through her dark gray fur. The Fianna remains quietly reserved, watching until the flow of arrivals begins to taper. Then, once more, she tilts her head back to let out another howl. Her song again comes clear, calling to all in welcome. The note holds steady and inviting, encouraging others to join in the opening of Moot.
At the center, Bridge Builder's ears twist backward and his lip lifts briefly. Despite the baring of teeth, the expression is supportive rather than angry.
At the center, Rat-Tale throws back her head to sing out across the others with Galliard-enhanced volume- but it's a dog's howl without the depth and character of its lupine equivalent.
At the center, Having been a somewhat scarce figure in recent times, Fallout meanders down into the caern, favoring his leg and looking as social as ever.
At the center, Not long after Rat-Tale arrives, another lupus Bone Gnawer makes her way down into the caern. Her steps are significantly slower, and each hop-step is carefully made.
At the center, On-Star whispers again before sitting a little straighter, letting her head fall back as she joins in the welcoming howl.
At the center, Dances The Edge pads in through the mist, avoiding the Fang, and settles onto her haunches.
At the center, Second-Chance trails down the path into the caern, ears cast back and eyes darting around as she looks for some friendly face to join. She pauses, ears tilting toward the second howl, then skitters toward On Star and Bridge Builder looking vaguely hopeful.
By the steam vents, Norman does not join the howl. He stays focussed on his actions among the vents, blood steadily painting more of his skin as he draws the knife-tip across it with deliberation.
At the center, Hungry remains silent. The Red Talon cub sits and watches, her manner abstracted.
Falcon's Gambit tosses her head back and lifts her voice, the sound muffled by the omnipresent dampness.
At the center, On-Star notices the Fury cub as she gets close. She gives the ground near them a pat to invite her to sit, howling on uninterrupted.
In the windiest area, Reforges-the-Lost lifts her voice to the gathering as the last of the howls die out. ~We are creatures of war,~ she says to the Garou, ~but not mindless beasts. We are impassioned by the strength of Luna, quick to anger, fierce friends, powerful enemies. To guide us on this dangerous and narrow path, we have been given the wisdom of the Litany. Let us begin by sharing that wisdom so that we always remember our laws.~ After a short pause in which the Fianna looks to the Fool, the Litany begins. The first tenet is spoken and countered in kind, with time allowed for those gathered to refute. Then once again, the Galliard's voice calls out, ~The second Law, Combat the Wyrm wherever it dwells and whenever it breeds.~
~Oh yes, that's very simple,~ Falcon's Gambit agrees loudly, nodding in wide-eyed faux-agreement. Half a second later she shakes her head and rolls her eyes, tone turned cynical. ~That's a simple rule for simple minds! The Wyrm lives everywhere. Breeds everywhere. We can't fight it all. We don't even know where to start, much less how to win! We can fight in the fields and in the streets, we can fight in the hills, and we will never destroy it utterly. I say we start picking our battles and use our heads, not just scream and leap like we've done for eons. Obviously it hasn't worked.~
At the center, ~Combat,~ Rianna says, as she melts into crinos, ~Does not just mean fight. It means work against, as assiduously as you can. Fight a battle; work in a soup kitchen, to drive despair away; help a woman escape her evil mate. They all combat the Wyrm. Do not think in only one way.~
At the center, Second-Chance sinks down to the offered spot, looking in thanks to On Star. Ears flick up very briefly, then splay again as the Litany begins, her attention turning toward that.
At the center, Late, Kaz limps down the waterfall trail, and settles somewhat equidistant between her two tribemates.
At the center, Fallout settles into a spot, not so much contributing to the calling so much as listening, for now.
At the center, Snakepatcher snarls. ~Kill the Wyrm!~, he rebuts. ~Kill!~
At the center, Rat-Tale's teeth click as she bites back a comment which (as is obvious in her present form) was rather too much in agreement with the Fool to be politic. The Lupus licks her muzzle with a sheepish expression, and slinks closer to Kaz.
At the center, With many sideways glances at Rat-Tale (and sniffs to assure himself it is in fact, a Garou), Golden shifts to hispo and jackal-laughs at Falcon's Gambit. ~Choosing our battles has gone so well for us! The Impergium, the wars of Rage where we saw enemies in everyone not ourselves. We choose brilliantly, Fool--let us make a habit of it.~
At the center, On-Star shouts back, ~The less we act the stronger the Wyrm's hold will be. We all must fight it back every way we can.~
In the windiest area, Reforges-the-Lost nods her agreement to each of the rebuttals, lips peeling back into a small but toothy grin. Seriousness returns as she looks out over the other Garou, though it's the Fool she's adressing. Around and around the verbal jockeying goes, the Galliard stating each edict in order for the Fool to challenge and those Gathered to properly defend in turn. Then, ~Come now, Fool, even you cannot challenge this one. The nineth: The Veil shall not be lifted.~
Falcon's Gambit stomps one clawed foot, flinging up her hands as if she can't believe the Caller's words. ~Are we all children? We are losing this war because we lack allies! We can't turn around without learning of a new foe, another Caern lost, another Garou dead. We shouldn't be the foot soldiers, we should be generals! Lift the Veil, show ourselves to the humans. Sure, some will fear us, and that's our own fault, but we just kill those mercifully. The ones that remain are the strong ones. Those are the ones we will lead to victory over the Wyrm! Breed with the ones who have the backbone to see us for who we are, and we can reclaim Gaia!~
At the center, Hungry lifts her muzzle and lets out a banshee howl of rage and denial. Work with humans? NEVER!
At the center, Golden snorts and his ears flick back. ~Will the ones who live after this culling, this return of the Impergium, trust us when we slaughter those not immune to our Rage? No!~ He barks that denial. ~They will rise against us ever more, and destroy us utterly--for they outnumber us, thousands to one.~
At the center, Wryly, Kaz says, ~Have you noticed how we kinda fuck people up when we try and deal with them? The Veil's just as much to protect them, as us.~
At the center, ~And throw our kin and other innocents into the maw of the Wyrm so we can stand behind the lines and order them to die in our stead? Never! We are the warriors and it is our purpose, not theirs!~ On-Star shouts back.
At the center, Twolegs fight, the black-and-white dog barks out. Fight without wolfshifters scaring them like that. Live in bad place but not fall. Rat-Tale does not want twolegs fighting wolfshifters instead of that.
At the center, Fallout huffs out a bit of a snort and grumbles to himself, but otherwise doesn't comment.
At the center, Second-Chance shifts in her seat, letting a quiet whine that seems to be in agreement with the arguments spoken against the Fool's claim.
At the center, Snakepatcher snarls ~Kill the Wyrm! Not the humans. Kill the Wyrm!~
In the windiest area, Reforges-the-Lost listens to the debate of right versus wrong, interjecting as appropriate to continue the recitation of the litany. ~Good answers,~ she commends of the gathering after the twelfth tenet has been covered. She turns to regard the Fool quietly for just a second or two before speaking again. ~Surely you can see the sense in our final law,~ she says quietly. Then more loudly, ~The thirteenth tenet: Ye shall take no action that causes a Caern to be violated.~
Falcon's Gambit stops for a moment as if to think, resting her chin on one curled fist. ~No action,~ she muses, thoughtfully but loud enough to be heard clearly. ~No action. But when is it decided if the Caern's been violated? After the fact! Oh, if only we all had perfect hindsight, to know which deeds or mis-steps would be judged dangerous after they've been done. Don't you see? This rule is for the bean-counters and those who never leave the safety of the Bawn to keep everyone else in line! After all, any action could theoretically do something bad to the Caern.~ She points toward the sky, a finger tracking slowly. ~Even something as simple as a large gathering of warm bodies could be seen by the right people. Are we going to live our lives in fear that we'll step over some imaginary line and get our noses smacked with rolled up paper? No! We should do what we think is best if we're going to fight the Wyrm!~
At the center, Rat-Tale's muzzle wrinkles in a lupine (or rather, canine), 'huh?'
At the center, Bridge Builder's lip curls away from his teeth and his ears twist backward.
At the center, ~Speaking as a bean counter, the point is not to encourage no action at all,~ Rianna says. ~The point is to encourage you to think before you act. Protect the Caern, protect the Bawn, fight the Wyrm properly, and you should be fine. But think beforehand. That's all.~
At the center, ~The law is not a ban to common sense.~ Golden snorts at Falcon's Gambit, then looks sly, if a hispo can do such a thing. ~But if you would rather quibble over how to protect Caerns, there's no need for you to come into them, Fool. You can do other fine things, without their strength!~
At the center, Snakepatcher snarls, ~This Caern is our home! We must protect it from the Wyrm. Kill the Wyrm!~
At the center, ~I ain't never been smacked with no rolled up information sheet,~ Kaz says, with a snort, ~Because that ain't the purpose of the Law. The purpose of the law is to protect the Caern, not to tiptoe around and freak out all over the place.~
In the windiest area, Reforges-the-Lost, after the final law has been refuted sufficiently, directs a hand toward the steam vents and the Godi sitting within. ~My brothers and sisters of the Nation. Join with me now as Icetrap calls to the spirits. Let us sing our welcome and thanks to them as he opens the Inner Sky!~
At the center, Dances The Edge settles onto all fours as she turns to watch Norman.
At the center, Wrong Way gives a bit of a shake as she hop-turns from watching Fool and Master of the Howl, to observe the Caller of the Wyld.
By the steam vents, Norman rises from where he has been crouching in Homid. Despite the winter's chill, he is stripped to the waist, and fresh blood smears his arms and torso where he has carved glyphs into his skin- Chimera, Caern, Sept, Strength, and the sweeping, crossed marks that can mean both Spirit and Enigma. He raises his arms and starts to sing, falsetto notes on a strange and unnerving scale. "Uruz, uruz, uruz! U, u, u! Gebo, wunjo, nauthiz!" The steam bellows out and then draws back and up until the Godi is no more than a shadow within a misty white column. The song slips from ancient human tongue into one still more ancient as his half-seen form ripples into Crinos and the shrill song becomes a keening howl. ~Mirror-Reith, Dream-Drove/ Puzzle-Path, Riddle-Road.~
The rising stream ripples and swirls, rolling outwards again in whirls and billows, tendrils of milky air questing away from the steam vents to touch the valley sides and to fade out among the assembled Garou. Icetrap turns slowly, stopping to face east, then south, west and north. ~Cloud's house, light's sire/ Salmon's hall, badger's byre.~ The swirling mists pull back once more, as though with indrawn breath, as Icetrap once more faces east, muzzle stretched to the night sky above as his final words are thrown into the darkness. ~Ancient allies, honoured Ancients/ Wide are the worldgates/ We welcome you! We welcome you!~
There's a soft hissing as the earth emits one final outflooding of hot, white steam that floods outwards to lap about the paws of the Sept, beading earth and grass and fur with moisture. Icetrap lowers his arms slowly, his head slumping to his chest and the clouded air ebbing back into clarity. After drawing in a shuddering breath, he collects his strength enough to look towards the Master of the Howl. His voice is almost too quiet to hear. ~The Inner Sky is open.~
At the center, Dances The Edge whuffles quietly, in subdued awe. ~It sure is.~
Center of the Caern
On-Star puts her ears back with a wordless snarl at the Fool and moves around a little to focus on Icetrap. Once more her head tips back to look at the sky quietly.
Hungry watches Icetrap intently.
The Fool slips quietly back into the Caern as all eyes turn toward Icetrap. She gives a shake as she leaves the mist behind, sending water flying, and though she paces to settle beside Bright Falcon's Grace, her gaze lingers on Golden for a moment before her attention returns to the Theurge.
By the steam vents, Norman shrinks into Lupus, a small and tired form now as he sits amid the rising steam to watch the continuing proceedings.
In the windiest area, Reforges-the-Lost dips her head in a nod to Icetrap then turns toward On Star. Her head bows slightly as she tips a hand toward the Philodox in a gesture of offering. ~My friends,~ she states, head lifting once again. ~It's time to crack the bones!~
Rat-Tale watches the Opening of the Sky with pricked ears and an uncertain wave of her overlong tail. She sits near Kaz, looping that tail around her forepaws and peering around to see who might be Truthcatcher today.
On-Star's eyes drop from the skies as the Opening ends and she walks forward. Climbing to the top of the flat rock, the Truthcatcher's breath puffs as she stands looking at the gathered garou . Standing tall the Walker lifts the cow bone high with one clawed hand. ~Let us seek out and share the marrow of truth as I crack this bone in honor of this Moot.~ She brings the bone down and snaps it in two with a slight twist. ~Only speak if you hold the bones and only in Mother's Tongue, unless you are unable.~ A pause before she holds out the two bones, ~Now, who has business with the bones? Who needs to declare themselves or share news with the Sept?~
Mesmerized by the opening of the Caern, Golden is slow to acknowledge Falcon's Gambit, but soon enough he lolls his hispo tongue at her, signaling a job well-done.
Kaz rises to take the bones. ~Hey. I haven't heard anything lately about the vampires in the city, but, I also haven't heard anything about any of them dying. So. I'm probably out of touch about this, but there's at least three leeches out there. Talk to the Glass Walker Kin "Rina" for more information about them.~ She offers the bones back to Solsiva and then returns to her crouch.
Golden's ears lay flat and he bears his teeth at the mention of leeches. His eyes stay on some fixed point away from Ears, though his hackles stand and it can be nothing but what she's said that has him stirred up.
Rat-Tale's nose tracks the path of the Gnawer Elder and Sept Alpha as she walks up and walks back, listening with curiosity and a slow display of white tooth-tips at the news.
The slouching Gnawer Philodox doesn't growl but there is a feeling of anticipatory violence at the mention of leeches.
Kaz seems entirely unsurprised by Golden's reaction. The cant of her ears seems to say, Oh, look, Silent Striders hating vampires. The shock.
Falcon's Gambit looks thoughtful at the Alpha's news. She spares a moment to glance around at the various urrah before returning her attention politely toward the bone-cracking.
Second-Chance looks to the Sept Alpha at the mention of Vampires, her ears drawing forward once again. She tilts her head and looks to Bridge Builder, directing a questioning look at the Walker Galliard.
Hop-hobbling to the rock slab, Wrong Way takes the shard of bone in her jaws. She shifts from her birth form to crinos, and takes the bone in her good hand. ~I talked of my dreams. I talked of purple flames and metal and rising powers. The dreams are coming. Are stronger.~ Her muzzle dips, and her whole head sways from side to side. ~I gave gifts to end the threat, but spirits are still trapped. They grow angry. I must release the spirits.~ She lifts her head again, and the anger she speaks of shows in her posture. ~It is time.~ That said, she hands the bones back to the Truthcatcher and drops back to her birth form to hobble back to the center.
Kaz looks after Wrong Way in some confusion.
Falcon's Grace just watches Wrong Way with a cold, impassive expression.
Rat-Tale adds another confused expression to the Gnawer collection, but remains quiet.
The Silver Fang's ragabash looks bemused at Wrong Way, her ears swiveling backwards as if someone might be whispering a translation behind her. When nothing comes to light she shifts her attention over to the Ritemaster before looking back to the challenges.
Golden forces himself to calm down, turning his attention to worry at one scarred shoulder for a distraction. An ear turns towards Wrong Way as she speaks, and his nose works.
In the windiest area, Reforges-the-Lost looks to Wrong Way as well, though her's is thoughtful rather than questioning.
On-Star takes the bones and waits a few moments for people to absorb before calling again, ~What of challenges? Who wishes to make them and then are there any results to share?~
By the steam vents, The hunched Lupus form of Icetrap stands and gives a shake. He remains in the same form as he comes forward, his steps expressing both tension and resolve. He rises to Crinos to take the bones from On-Star, and then turns to face the assembled Garou. His first attempt at speech is too quiet- he clears his throat and tries again with more volume.
~I am Holds-Back-the-Ice, Godi of Great Fenrir's blood, son of Weasel. I have served the Sept of the Hidden Walk for nearly two full turnings of the seasons. I have served as Guardian and stood at Moot. I have performed the rituals of winter and spring. I have walked among the spirits of this Bawn and learned their ways. I have taught tradition, ritual and purpose to Gaia's children, and I have fought and destroyed Gaia's enemies. I have done my duty.~
He turns to seek a form in the gathering, singling out the Silver Fang Elder, Falcon's-Grace. he has to pause and take a deep breath before he can manage to continue. ~Bright Falcon's Grace-rhya, you are of a Tribe known for honour and for commitment to duty. You are a crescent-moon of good standing, and Ritemaster. You do not tolerate fools or incompetence, nor give credit and praise where none is due It is for all those reasons that I ask you to test me, and if you do not find me wanting then to recognise me as worthy of greater standing in the eyes of the Nation. Bright Falcon's Grace-rhya, I Challenge you for Fosten rank.~
Kaz raises an eyebrow; but surprise slides into respect, and interest.
Golden flicks his eyes to Falcon's Grace, waiting for her reply.
Taking the bones from the young theurge, Falcon's Grace stands straight, her posture tall and proud as she studies the Get theurge before her. ~Icetrap, you have served this Sept with the honor and dedication that your tribe is usually known for. Your knowledge of rites is a boon to this Sept, your dedication for teaching those of the spirits and indeed of what it means to be Garou is a credit. I have been informed of a difficulty in the umbra of the city. You will investigate this and bring the issue to a close.~ That declared, she hands the bones over and steps back, resuming her silent watch of the proceedings from the midst of her packmates and tribemembers.
Second-Chance abandons her wonderings to look toward Icetrap, tail giving a light brushing against the ground.
By the steam vents, Icetrap sees the bones returned to On-Star with silence and a deep bow Falcon's Grace and a smaller nod to the Truthcatcher, keeping a rather military poise born of tension and training. Returning to Lupus and shedding that stiffness, he slips gratefully into the anonymity of the gathered Garou and curls up to watch.
Falcon's Gambit looks pleased, now, either at Icetrap's request or Falcon's Grace's answer - or, possibly, both. She keeps still other than a drawing back of lips, her ears returned to front and center.
Taking the bones, the Gnawer Philodox eyes Icetrap thoughtfully, refraining from comment and instead turning to face the gathered Garou. Judge Dredd, as she has taken to calling herself in a rather ironic tone, taps the ends against each other. ~Scar's Challenge is ongoing. Results will be announced when he is done.~ That said, she hands the bones back and heads to her seat, slouching immediately against the ground.
Golden pants at Icetrap in congratulations and good wishes.
Kaz creaks to her feet again, and takes the bones. ~Ditto with Rises-Like-Phoenix-From-Rage's-Fire. It's ongoing. And we'll see what we'll see.~ That said, she settles again, quiet.
If anything, Falcon's Gambit looks disappointed at the continuation of the Challenges, rather than their conclusions. She glances around, as if seeking the Walker and Fury, steals another look toward Zosia, and returns to her so-proper attentiveness.
Falcon's Grace is serenity itself as she sits watching the proceedings.
Salem's Challenge news draws not a whit of reaction from Icetrap, and a turn of his ear is the only indication that he has not only heard Kaz's announcement but taken an interest in it. The Godi seems to have mostly retreated into himself. There's a slight turn of his head towards the swirling winds now, more force of habit than conscious volition.
On-Star offers the bones for a few more moments, eyes scanning the crowd. When no one else steps forward she calls out, ~Ok. The Cracking is complete!~ And so she hops back down.
Kaz clambers to her feet and finds a spot to tell the tale; and then she tells, again, the story of the rebirth of the Wendigo's Wheel, into the multi-tribal Wheel Renewed. And the coming of the Ice King, and its defeat. This is a tale some have heard before, but Kaz seems to enjoy herself anyway. Once she's done, she crouches again, concentrating briefly, and then her packmate Chandini appears at the top of the cleft. Barely visible if at all, she howls for the Garou to come, to Revel with her. Come! To fight the Sept's foes.
Judge Dredd howls with fierce delight at the call, lurching to her feet and flexing her claws as she anticipates the fight to come.
On-Star had sat down for the storytelling, more at ease than she had been. She smiled, she grimaced, she stared attentively. At the call she looks to her packmate before getting to her feet.
Bridge Builder glances to the west, but then flicks an ear in acquiescence, and moves with On-Star to join the Revel.
Falcon's Grace pushes to her feet as well, sending a howl to the heavens as she prepares to join the gathered Garou in reveling.
Whether Falcon's Gambit has heard this story before or not, she sits and listens as though it is new. When it's over and Chandini makes the call she bounces to her feet and stretches, moving eagerly toward the Ahroun.
Wrong Way gives a rough shake as the revelers depart, waiting until most have gone before hobbling toward the steam vents.
In the windiest area, Reforges-the-Lost joins in with the others, howl and all, falling into the gathering for those going to Revel.
The call to Revel is what finally stirs Norman into focus and reaction. He reaches hispo mid-leap as he bounds forwards, throwing doubts and stress into the shift and a ragey tension that settles over him like a cloak, amd driving on with single-minded purpose to join the chase.
Snakepatcher charges at the cal for the Rebel with a howl, ~Kill the Wyrm!~
Second-Chance looks up at the call to Revel, longing to join evident in her posture. She watches those Garou going to join in hunt, but herself stays put with ears splaying.
Rat-Tale listens with rapt pleasure to the Talesinging, her ridiculous tail wagging nineteen to the dozen and her moods changing with every twist of the saga. She greets with revel with similar enthusiasm, bounding to all fours and lolloping off after the Wyrmfoe with her tongue flapping out.
Currently the moon is in the waxing Full (Ahroun) Moon phase (94% full).
By the Waterfall
The walls of the canyon surrounding the caern reach upwards to thirty feet here, their highest point. About two-thirds of the way up, a small underground spring exits the rock face. The water spills playfully down the cliff face, caressing the rocks and darting away, but always falling to gravity's inexorable pull. The flow, upon entering the shallow, chilled pool of water at the bottom, creates constant ripples in the puddle's surface. A light mist rises up from the ground near the pool, chilling to the bone.
The forest surrounding the caern's border is far less dense than the rest of the nearby forest, with ferns and clumps of aspen taking the place of white pine and birch. Scattered, centuries-old cedar stand majestically over their fallen, decaying, moss-covered comrades. This peculiarity seems to surround only the area just outside the caern.
To the west, cool mist kicked up by the falls mingles with warmer steam from geothermal sources; these mists swirl around the caern to the north. The caern's center lies northwest of here. You can pick out what seems to be a hazardous trail over rock and up the wall, to the side of the waterfall.
Obvious exits:
Steam Vents Center Windy Spot Up the Trail
By the steam vents, Norman kneels among the columns of rising steam, a small knife in his hand. Ignoring anything else going on around him, the Godi slowly sketches into his flesh with the knife-point, his breath slow and deliberate as he works.
At the center, Hungry slinks in quietly and positions herself at the edge of the caern.
At the center, Reforges-the-Lost is sitting quietly near the Caern's center, already in Crinos, arms resting against her knees. Her head is tilted very slightly, a contemplative look upon her visage while she stares up at the sky. An ear tilts toward one pathway and then another as others begin to arrive. As though this were a cue, the young Galliard stands tall, confident. In rising to her full height she tilts her head back, muzzle lifting to the skies, and lets out a long, loud howl.
At the center, Reforges-the-Lost can be heard to howl, ~Garou of the Hidden Walk, warriors of Gaia! Luna shines brightly and sings to us. Her words call us to gather together at the Caern. Come! It's time to Moot!~
At the center, Golden comes down the trail, moving gingerly and wincing now and then. His usual care in navigating into the Caern is redoubled, and he slinks to a spot in easy view of Falcon's-Gambit and settles down, looking physically tired, if not mentally. His ears lift and fall at Reforges' howl.
At the center, Rat-Tale arrives on pattering paws along the valley into the Caern. The Gnawer is probably a shock to anybody who hasn't seen her in this particular shape- a black-and-white mongrel dog, complete with a same tatty leather collar. She comes to a sliding stop at the back, suddenly cautious as she assesses her welcome and looks for somewhere to settle.
At the center, Snakepatcher treads into the caern with his usual heavy steps, his head turned towards the gathering of Garou.
Falcon's Gambit, water glistening like pearls on her fur, paces within the mist. As the howl goes up to gather she jerks bipedal and smooths her muzzle, then gives her pelt a quick grooming. The Strider ragabash catches her attention for a moment, but once he's settled she crouches down again, ears pricking toward Rat-Tale.
At the center, Two Walkers that had been on the edge of the caern in quiet discussion fall silent at the howl and hustle over to get a nice spot to settle down. On-Star fusses with the cow bone in her hands as she whispers again to Bridge-Builder.
In the windiest area, Reforges-the-Lost, following her call to gather, moves from the center and into the swirling winds. There she stands and observes those of the Sept able to attend come into the Caern, the wind teasing and ruffling through her dark gray fur. The Fianna remains quietly reserved, watching until the flow of arrivals begins to taper. Then, once more, she tilts her head back to let out another howl. Her song again comes clear, calling to all in welcome. The note holds steady and inviting, encouraging others to join in the opening of Moot.
At the center, Bridge Builder's ears twist backward and his lip lifts briefly. Despite the baring of teeth, the expression is supportive rather than angry.
At the center, Rat-Tale throws back her head to sing out across the others with Galliard-enhanced volume- but it's a dog's howl without the depth and character of its lupine equivalent.
At the center, Having been a somewhat scarce figure in recent times, Fallout meanders down into the caern, favoring his leg and looking as social as ever.
At the center, Not long after Rat-Tale arrives, another lupus Bone Gnawer makes her way down into the caern. Her steps are significantly slower, and each hop-step is carefully made.
At the center, On-Star whispers again before sitting a little straighter, letting her head fall back as she joins in the welcoming howl.
At the center, Dances The Edge pads in through the mist, avoiding the Fang, and settles onto her haunches.
At the center, Second-Chance trails down the path into the caern, ears cast back and eyes darting around as she looks for some friendly face to join. She pauses, ears tilting toward the second howl, then skitters toward On Star and Bridge Builder looking vaguely hopeful.
By the steam vents, Norman does not join the howl. He stays focussed on his actions among the vents, blood steadily painting more of his skin as he draws the knife-tip across it with deliberation.
At the center, Hungry remains silent. The Red Talon cub sits and watches, her manner abstracted.
Falcon's Gambit tosses her head back and lifts her voice, the sound muffled by the omnipresent dampness.
At the center, On-Star notices the Fury cub as she gets close. She gives the ground near them a pat to invite her to sit, howling on uninterrupted.
In the windiest area, Reforges-the-Lost lifts her voice to the gathering as the last of the howls die out. ~We are creatures of war,~ she says to the Garou, ~but not mindless beasts. We are impassioned by the strength of Luna, quick to anger, fierce friends, powerful enemies. To guide us on this dangerous and narrow path, we have been given the wisdom of the Litany. Let us begin by sharing that wisdom so that we always remember our laws.~ After a short pause in which the Fianna looks to the Fool, the Litany begins. The first tenet is spoken and countered in kind, with time allowed for those gathered to refute. Then once again, the Galliard's voice calls out, ~The second Law, Combat the Wyrm wherever it dwells and whenever it breeds.~
~Oh yes, that's very simple,~ Falcon's Gambit agrees loudly, nodding in wide-eyed faux-agreement. Half a second later she shakes her head and rolls her eyes, tone turned cynical. ~That's a simple rule for simple minds! The Wyrm lives everywhere. Breeds everywhere. We can't fight it all. We don't even know where to start, much less how to win! We can fight in the fields and in the streets, we can fight in the hills, and we will never destroy it utterly. I say we start picking our battles and use our heads, not just scream and leap like we've done for eons. Obviously it hasn't worked.~
At the center, ~Combat,~ Rianna says, as she melts into crinos, ~Does not just mean fight. It means work against, as assiduously as you can. Fight a battle; work in a soup kitchen, to drive despair away; help a woman escape her evil mate. They all combat the Wyrm. Do not think in only one way.~
At the center, Second-Chance sinks down to the offered spot, looking in thanks to On Star. Ears flick up very briefly, then splay again as the Litany begins, her attention turning toward that.
At the center, Late, Kaz limps down the waterfall trail, and settles somewhat equidistant between her two tribemates.
At the center, Fallout settles into a spot, not so much contributing to the calling so much as listening, for now.
At the center, Snakepatcher snarls. ~Kill the Wyrm!~, he rebuts. ~Kill!~
At the center, Rat-Tale's teeth click as she bites back a comment which (as is obvious in her present form) was rather too much in agreement with the Fool to be politic. The Lupus licks her muzzle with a sheepish expression, and slinks closer to Kaz.
At the center, With many sideways glances at Rat-Tale (and sniffs to assure himself it is in fact, a Garou), Golden shifts to hispo and jackal-laughs at Falcon's Gambit. ~Choosing our battles has gone so well for us! The Impergium, the wars of Rage where we saw enemies in everyone not ourselves. We choose brilliantly, Fool--let us make a habit of it.~
At the center, On-Star shouts back, ~The less we act the stronger the Wyrm's hold will be. We all must fight it back every way we can.~
In the windiest area, Reforges-the-Lost nods her agreement to each of the rebuttals, lips peeling back into a small but toothy grin. Seriousness returns as she looks out over the other Garou, though it's the Fool she's adressing. Around and around the verbal jockeying goes, the Galliard stating each edict in order for the Fool to challenge and those Gathered to properly defend in turn. Then, ~Come now, Fool, even you cannot challenge this one. The nineth: The Veil shall not be lifted.~
Falcon's Gambit stomps one clawed foot, flinging up her hands as if she can't believe the Caller's words. ~Are we all children? We are losing this war because we lack allies! We can't turn around without learning of a new foe, another Caern lost, another Garou dead. We shouldn't be the foot soldiers, we should be generals! Lift the Veil, show ourselves to the humans. Sure, some will fear us, and that's our own fault, but we just kill those mercifully. The ones that remain are the strong ones. Those are the ones we will lead to victory over the Wyrm! Breed with the ones who have the backbone to see us for who we are, and we can reclaim Gaia!~
At the center, Hungry lifts her muzzle and lets out a banshee howl of rage and denial. Work with humans? NEVER!
At the center, Golden snorts and his ears flick back. ~Will the ones who live after this culling, this return of the Impergium, trust us when we slaughter those not immune to our Rage? No!~ He barks that denial. ~They will rise against us ever more, and destroy us utterly--for they outnumber us, thousands to one.~
At the center, Wryly, Kaz says, ~Have you noticed how we kinda fuck people up when we try and deal with them? The Veil's just as much to protect them, as us.~
At the center, ~And throw our kin and other innocents into the maw of the Wyrm so we can stand behind the lines and order them to die in our stead? Never! We are the warriors and it is our purpose, not theirs!~ On-Star shouts back.
At the center, Twolegs fight, the black-and-white dog barks out. Fight without wolfshifters scaring them like that. Live in bad place but not fall. Rat-Tale does not want twolegs fighting wolfshifters instead of that.
At the center, Fallout huffs out a bit of a snort and grumbles to himself, but otherwise doesn't comment.
At the center, Second-Chance shifts in her seat, letting a quiet whine that seems to be in agreement with the arguments spoken against the Fool's claim.
At the center, Snakepatcher snarls ~Kill the Wyrm! Not the humans. Kill the Wyrm!~
In the windiest area, Reforges-the-Lost listens to the debate of right versus wrong, interjecting as appropriate to continue the recitation of the litany. ~Good answers,~ she commends of the gathering after the twelfth tenet has been covered. She turns to regard the Fool quietly for just a second or two before speaking again. ~Surely you can see the sense in our final law,~ she says quietly. Then more loudly, ~The thirteenth tenet: Ye shall take no action that causes a Caern to be violated.~
Falcon's Gambit stops for a moment as if to think, resting her chin on one curled fist. ~No action,~ she muses, thoughtfully but loud enough to be heard clearly. ~No action. But when is it decided if the Caern's been violated? After the fact! Oh, if only we all had perfect hindsight, to know which deeds or mis-steps would be judged dangerous after they've been done. Don't you see? This rule is for the bean-counters and those who never leave the safety of the Bawn to keep everyone else in line! After all, any action could theoretically do something bad to the Caern.~ She points toward the sky, a finger tracking slowly. ~Even something as simple as a large gathering of warm bodies could be seen by the right people. Are we going to live our lives in fear that we'll step over some imaginary line and get our noses smacked with rolled up paper? No! We should do what we think is best if we're going to fight the Wyrm!~
At the center, Rat-Tale's muzzle wrinkles in a lupine (or rather, canine), 'huh?'
At the center, Bridge Builder's lip curls away from his teeth and his ears twist backward.
At the center, ~Speaking as a bean counter, the point is not to encourage no action at all,~ Rianna says. ~The point is to encourage you to think before you act. Protect the Caern, protect the Bawn, fight the Wyrm properly, and you should be fine. But think beforehand. That's all.~
At the center, ~The law is not a ban to common sense.~ Golden snorts at Falcon's Gambit, then looks sly, if a hispo can do such a thing. ~But if you would rather quibble over how to protect Caerns, there's no need for you to come into them, Fool. You can do other fine things, without their strength!~
At the center, Snakepatcher snarls, ~This Caern is our home! We must protect it from the Wyrm. Kill the Wyrm!~
At the center, ~I ain't never been smacked with no rolled up information sheet,~ Kaz says, with a snort, ~Because that ain't the purpose of the Law. The purpose of the law is to protect the Caern, not to tiptoe around and freak out all over the place.~
In the windiest area, Reforges-the-Lost, after the final law has been refuted sufficiently, directs a hand toward the steam vents and the Godi sitting within. ~My brothers and sisters of the Nation. Join with me now as Icetrap calls to the spirits. Let us sing our welcome and thanks to them as he opens the Inner Sky!~
At the center, Dances The Edge settles onto all fours as she turns to watch Norman.
At the center, Wrong Way gives a bit of a shake as she hop-turns from watching Fool and Master of the Howl, to observe the Caller of the Wyld.
By the steam vents, Norman rises from where he has been crouching in Homid. Despite the winter's chill, he is stripped to the waist, and fresh blood smears his arms and torso where he has carved glyphs into his skin- Chimera, Caern, Sept, Strength, and the sweeping, crossed marks that can mean both Spirit and Enigma. He raises his arms and starts to sing, falsetto notes on a strange and unnerving scale. "Uruz, uruz, uruz! U, u, u! Gebo, wunjo, nauthiz!" The steam bellows out and then draws back and up until the Godi is no more than a shadow within a misty white column. The song slips from ancient human tongue into one still more ancient as his half-seen form ripples into Crinos and the shrill song becomes a keening howl. ~Mirror-Reith, Dream-Drove/ Puzzle-Path, Riddle-Road.~
The rising stream ripples and swirls, rolling outwards again in whirls and billows, tendrils of milky air questing away from the steam vents to touch the valley sides and to fade out among the assembled Garou. Icetrap turns slowly, stopping to face east, then south, west and north. ~Cloud's house, light's sire/ Salmon's hall, badger's byre.~ The swirling mists pull back once more, as though with indrawn breath, as Icetrap once more faces east, muzzle stretched to the night sky above as his final words are thrown into the darkness. ~Ancient allies, honoured Ancients/ Wide are the worldgates/ We welcome you! We welcome you!~
There's a soft hissing as the earth emits one final outflooding of hot, white steam that floods outwards to lap about the paws of the Sept, beading earth and grass and fur with moisture. Icetrap lowers his arms slowly, his head slumping to his chest and the clouded air ebbing back into clarity. After drawing in a shuddering breath, he collects his strength enough to look towards the Master of the Howl. His voice is almost too quiet to hear. ~The Inner Sky is open.~
At the center, Dances The Edge whuffles quietly, in subdued awe. ~It sure is.~
Center of the Caern
On-Star puts her ears back with a wordless snarl at the Fool and moves around a little to focus on Icetrap. Once more her head tips back to look at the sky quietly.
Hungry watches Icetrap intently.
The Fool slips quietly back into the Caern as all eyes turn toward Icetrap. She gives a shake as she leaves the mist behind, sending water flying, and though she paces to settle beside Bright Falcon's Grace, her gaze lingers on Golden for a moment before her attention returns to the Theurge.
By the steam vents, Norman shrinks into Lupus, a small and tired form now as he sits amid the rising steam to watch the continuing proceedings.
In the windiest area, Reforges-the-Lost dips her head in a nod to Icetrap then turns toward On Star. Her head bows slightly as she tips a hand toward the Philodox in a gesture of offering. ~My friends,~ she states, head lifting once again. ~It's time to crack the bones!~
Rat-Tale watches the Opening of the Sky with pricked ears and an uncertain wave of her overlong tail. She sits near Kaz, looping that tail around her forepaws and peering around to see who might be Truthcatcher today.
On-Star's eyes drop from the skies as the Opening ends and she walks forward. Climbing to the top of the flat rock, the Truthcatcher's breath puffs as she stands looking at the gathered garou . Standing tall the Walker lifts the cow bone high with one clawed hand. ~Let us seek out and share the marrow of truth as I crack this bone in honor of this Moot.~ She brings the bone down and snaps it in two with a slight twist. ~Only speak if you hold the bones and only in Mother's Tongue, unless you are unable.~ A pause before she holds out the two bones, ~Now, who has business with the bones? Who needs to declare themselves or share news with the Sept?~
Mesmerized by the opening of the Caern, Golden is slow to acknowledge Falcon's Gambit, but soon enough he lolls his hispo tongue at her, signaling a job well-done.
Kaz rises to take the bones. ~Hey. I haven't heard anything lately about the vampires in the city, but, I also haven't heard anything about any of them dying. So. I'm probably out of touch about this, but there's at least three leeches out there. Talk to the Glass Walker Kin "Rina" for more information about them.~ She offers the bones back to Solsiva and then returns to her crouch.
Golden's ears lay flat and he bears his teeth at the mention of leeches. His eyes stay on some fixed point away from Ears, though his hackles stand and it can be nothing but what she's said that has him stirred up.
Rat-Tale's nose tracks the path of the Gnawer Elder and Sept Alpha as she walks up and walks back, listening with curiosity and a slow display of white tooth-tips at the news.
The slouching Gnawer Philodox doesn't growl but there is a feeling of anticipatory violence at the mention of leeches.
Kaz seems entirely unsurprised by Golden's reaction. The cant of her ears seems to say, Oh, look, Silent Striders hating vampires. The shock.
Falcon's Gambit looks thoughtful at the Alpha's news. She spares a moment to glance around at the various urrah before returning her attention politely toward the bone-cracking.
Second-Chance looks to the Sept Alpha at the mention of Vampires, her ears drawing forward once again. She tilts her head and looks to Bridge Builder, directing a questioning look at the Walker Galliard.
Hop-hobbling to the rock slab, Wrong Way takes the shard of bone in her jaws. She shifts from her birth form to crinos, and takes the bone in her good hand. ~I talked of my dreams. I talked of purple flames and metal and rising powers. The dreams are coming. Are stronger.~ Her muzzle dips, and her whole head sways from side to side. ~I gave gifts to end the threat, but spirits are still trapped. They grow angry. I must release the spirits.~ She lifts her head again, and the anger she speaks of shows in her posture. ~It is time.~ That said, she hands the bones back to the Truthcatcher and drops back to her birth form to hobble back to the center.
Kaz looks after Wrong Way in some confusion.
Falcon's Grace just watches Wrong Way with a cold, impassive expression.
Rat-Tale adds another confused expression to the Gnawer collection, but remains quiet.
The Silver Fang's ragabash looks bemused at Wrong Way, her ears swiveling backwards as if someone might be whispering a translation behind her. When nothing comes to light she shifts her attention over to the Ritemaster before looking back to the challenges.
Golden forces himself to calm down, turning his attention to worry at one scarred shoulder for a distraction. An ear turns towards Wrong Way as she speaks, and his nose works.
In the windiest area, Reforges-the-Lost looks to Wrong Way as well, though her's is thoughtful rather than questioning.
On-Star takes the bones and waits a few moments for people to absorb before calling again, ~What of challenges? Who wishes to make them and then are there any results to share?~
By the steam vents, The hunched Lupus form of Icetrap stands and gives a shake. He remains in the same form as he comes forward, his steps expressing both tension and resolve. He rises to Crinos to take the bones from On-Star, and then turns to face the assembled Garou. His first attempt at speech is too quiet- he clears his throat and tries again with more volume.
~I am Holds-Back-the-Ice, Godi of Great Fenrir's blood, son of Weasel. I have served the Sept of the Hidden Walk for nearly two full turnings of the seasons. I have served as Guardian and stood at Moot. I have performed the rituals of winter and spring. I have walked among the spirits of this Bawn and learned their ways. I have taught tradition, ritual and purpose to Gaia's children, and I have fought and destroyed Gaia's enemies. I have done my duty.~
He turns to seek a form in the gathering, singling out the Silver Fang Elder, Falcon's-Grace. he has to pause and take a deep breath before he can manage to continue. ~Bright Falcon's Grace-rhya, you are of a Tribe known for honour and for commitment to duty. You are a crescent-moon of good standing, and Ritemaster. You do not tolerate fools or incompetence, nor give credit and praise where none is due It is for all those reasons that I ask you to test me, and if you do not find me wanting then to recognise me as worthy of greater standing in the eyes of the Nation. Bright Falcon's Grace-rhya, I Challenge you for Fosten rank.~
Kaz raises an eyebrow; but surprise slides into respect, and interest.
Golden flicks his eyes to Falcon's Grace, waiting for her reply.
Taking the bones from the young theurge, Falcon's Grace stands straight, her posture tall and proud as she studies the Get theurge before her. ~Icetrap, you have served this Sept with the honor and dedication that your tribe is usually known for. Your knowledge of rites is a boon to this Sept, your dedication for teaching those of the spirits and indeed of what it means to be Garou is a credit. I have been informed of a difficulty in the umbra of the city. You will investigate this and bring the issue to a close.~ That declared, she hands the bones over and steps back, resuming her silent watch of the proceedings from the midst of her packmates and tribemembers.
Second-Chance abandons her wonderings to look toward Icetrap, tail giving a light brushing against the ground.
By the steam vents, Icetrap sees the bones returned to On-Star with silence and a deep bow Falcon's Grace and a smaller nod to the Truthcatcher, keeping a rather military poise born of tension and training. Returning to Lupus and shedding that stiffness, he slips gratefully into the anonymity of the gathered Garou and curls up to watch.
Falcon's Gambit looks pleased, now, either at Icetrap's request or Falcon's Grace's answer - or, possibly, both. She keeps still other than a drawing back of lips, her ears returned to front and center.
Taking the bones, the Gnawer Philodox eyes Icetrap thoughtfully, refraining from comment and instead turning to face the gathered Garou. Judge Dredd, as she has taken to calling herself in a rather ironic tone, taps the ends against each other. ~Scar's Challenge is ongoing. Results will be announced when he is done.~ That said, she hands the bones back and heads to her seat, slouching immediately against the ground.
Golden pants at Icetrap in congratulations and good wishes.
Kaz creaks to her feet again, and takes the bones. ~Ditto with Rises-Like-Phoenix-From-Rage's-Fire. It's ongoing. And we'll see what we'll see.~ That said, she settles again, quiet.
If anything, Falcon's Gambit looks disappointed at the continuation of the Challenges, rather than their conclusions. She glances around, as if seeking the Walker and Fury, steals another look toward Zosia, and returns to her so-proper attentiveness.
Falcon's Grace is serenity itself as she sits watching the proceedings.
Salem's Challenge news draws not a whit of reaction from Icetrap, and a turn of his ear is the only indication that he has not only heard Kaz's announcement but taken an interest in it. The Godi seems to have mostly retreated into himself. There's a slight turn of his head towards the swirling winds now, more force of habit than conscious volition.
On-Star offers the bones for a few more moments, eyes scanning the crowd. When no one else steps forward she calls out, ~Ok. The Cracking is complete!~ And so she hops back down.
Kaz clambers to her feet and finds a spot to tell the tale; and then she tells, again, the story of the rebirth of the Wendigo's Wheel, into the multi-tribal Wheel Renewed. And the coming of the Ice King, and its defeat. This is a tale some have heard before, but Kaz seems to enjoy herself anyway. Once she's done, she crouches again, concentrating briefly, and then her packmate Chandini appears at the top of the cleft. Barely visible if at all, she howls for the Garou to come, to Revel with her. Come! To fight the Sept's foes.
Judge Dredd howls with fierce delight at the call, lurching to her feet and flexing her claws as she anticipates the fight to come.
On-Star had sat down for the storytelling, more at ease than she had been. She smiled, she grimaced, she stared attentively. At the call she looks to her packmate before getting to her feet.
Bridge Builder glances to the west, but then flicks an ear in acquiescence, and moves with On-Star to join the Revel.
Falcon's Grace pushes to her feet as well, sending a howl to the heavens as she prepares to join the gathered Garou in reveling.
Whether Falcon's Gambit has heard this story before or not, she sits and listens as though it is new. When it's over and Chandini makes the call she bounces to her feet and stretches, moving eagerly toward the Ahroun.
Wrong Way gives a rough shake as the revelers depart, waiting until most have gone before hobbling toward the steam vents.
In the windiest area, Reforges-the-Lost joins in with the others, howl and all, falling into the gathering for those going to Revel.
The call to Revel is what finally stirs Norman into focus and reaction. He reaches hispo mid-leap as he bounds forwards, throwing doubts and stress into the shift and a ragey tension that settles over him like a cloak, amd driving on with single-minded purpose to join the chase.
Snakepatcher charges at the cal for the Rebel with a howl, ~Kill the Wyrm!~
Second-Chance looks up at the call to Revel, longing to join evident in her posture. She watches those Garou going to join in hunt, but herself stays put with ears splaying.
Rat-Tale listens with rapt pleasure to the Talesinging, her ridiculous tail wagging nineteen to the dozen and her moods changing with every twist of the saga. She greets with revel with similar enthusiasm, bounding to all fours and lolloping off after the Wyrmfoe with her tongue flapping out.