Werewolf: Appalachian Moonrise, Ch 1

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#26

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There was no sign of anyone else at the top of the falls. Why had he been sent here if not to speak to the elders? Why did they not want to meet him and scrutinize him? It made no sense. Why were only these pups here? Unless . . .

He was being manipulated. Again. He growled deep in his throat. They might be watching, hidden in the Umbra or by gifts. They wanted this. And again, he had walked right into it. Some Shadowlord he was. What would Grandfather Thunder make of a pup so hapless that everyone could pull his strings? His Rage built.

That wasn't helping. Anger was blinding him. He was a Shadowlord. He must not be a slave to his Rage. Very well. He would play along like a good little Garou and see where this was leading. If they wanted to use him or trap him, well there was an old saying about being careful what you wish for, you might get it. His lips stretched along his muzzle, baring his fangs.

He turned back towards the others. He wold play this game for now.
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#27

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Arianne watched the others carefully, frowning slightly at the trap laid by the Uktena. She was expecting tales, not to have to tell her own tale. Her story was her own, not to be bandied amongst strangers, and besides, while she was not unfamiliar with the Native American way of telling stories, she was not prepared to speak in such a way herself. Perhaps if the Shadowlord can unbend enough, she will as well.

She notes the Shadowlord's anger, and wonders at the cause. Surely nothing that had happened this evening could have been reason for such a violent reaction.
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#28

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Beating on drums and singing now. He had no taste for this game. He stalked back to the other Garou, but said nothing. He had given his name. He would be a Shadow Lord now, not Ahroun, and show patience. He would wait to the truth of this farce was revealed.
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#29

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... well crap.

Her uncles had tried to explain to her, through the fog of their own limited understanding of other tribes, how things like this were supposed to work, but only now did she realize how little their stories had to do with reality. She could follow the story that the Uktena storyteller was telling, even the Lupus Theurge. That wasn't the problem.

"Who is it you are?" asked the Metis.

What a question...

The Shadowlord was still stalking about the periphery of the little group, looking for something, it was plain. Shadowlords were supposed to be constantly scheming about some damn thing or another, but Sophie had always considered those tales with a grain of salt. Given what was said about Glasswalkers, it was a wonder people didn't expect her to fall upon them all with a flamethrower and an invocation to the Weaver. Still something was bothering him, and she wasn't the only one who had noticed. Arianne looked worried somehow as well, glancing periodically at the Shadowlord. Sophie didn't bother trying to sort out what all that might have meant. Neither of the other two looked like they were in any hurry to recite their 'stories', and Sophie, for the life of her, could not figure out what to say. Was she supposed to was poetic about her glorious victory over the First Bank of Chicago's encryption system?

What to say... what to say... Every litany that one of her uncles had ever recited came back to her in a rush, arguments about why the Glass Walkers were infinitely superior to every other tribe of werewolves out there.

...

... well why the hell not?

Slowly, a broad grin spread across Sophie's face, and she shifted almost unconsciously back into her Homid form, the better to surround herself with her badges of office. She stood up, and took a step or two forward.

"My name is Sophie," she said, already having introduced herself by name, but repeating it for effect, "and they call me a 'Glass Walker', because they don't know what else to call us. We don't run through forests, or hunt deer like the rest of you. Our forests are made of steel and copper, and our deer live in a world as alien as the face of Luna herself."

The words were coming back to her now, recordings and stilted bits of speeches that she'd heard here and there, and her voice gained confidence as she spoke in Garou, mixing English terms in when no other would do, the small pendant around her neck flapping against her shirt, a bit of wire twisted and folded into the form of a small insect.

"I come from a shining city, with towers tall as mountains, where you can't walk a step without tripping over the houses of a hundred thousand spirits you can't even speak to without knowing our code. They live all around us, in wires and phones and generators and engines, and we know them better than you know your own totems. They speak in languages with two letters, or sixteen, or an infinite number, or none at all, but if you can't speak their language, you'd never know they existed. They move as fast as lightning, but only people who know what to watch for can see them move. We tend to those spirits that nobody else even sees. We fix them when they're hurt, we help them when they're stuck, we listen when they're angry or upset, when no-one else will. We learn their languages, their code, the code... and we change it."

She wound up into a peroration, a paraphrase of one she remembered vividly from a speech one of the local pack-leaders had given when she was very young. A recording she still carried on her computer.

"With our spirits, we can start wars, or end them. We can throw a continent into darkness, bring down armies or governments, or raise up new ones. We can travel 'round the world without even moving. We can see further than any seer, we can know more than any elder. To you, to the others here, I'm a Metis. I'm Sophie. I'm whatever you decide I am to you. But when I use the spirits to go into my world... I'm whatever I want to be, and I can do anything I wish."

Sophie stepped back with a grin that might have been mischievous or friendly, but probably was both. She slid the PDA (shaped like a cell phone) out of her pocket as she said it, and gently opened it a sliver, just enough so that the LCD inside powered up, emitting an eerie blue glow that leaked through her fingers and shone in the quiet darkness of the Caern, as though she held a mysterious magic crystal in the palm of her hand. As far as she was concerned, it wasn't far off.

"My name is Sophie," she said as the PDA glowed in the still silence of the forest, "and I know the Code."
Last edited by General Havoc on Tue Sep 16, 2008 7:20 pm, edited 2 times in total.
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#30

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"I am no Philodox or Galliard with their gifts for words," said Stormwalker. "I have no great victories worthy of song or story. I am a Shadow Lord, an Ahroun, and I will protect what is mine and all that is of Gaia. That is enough."
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#31

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The Shadowlord had joined the group, and spoken his piece directly, as only Ahrouns could. Before, Sees-Faces-In-Stars wondered why one would travel so far toward another Cairn, just to be alone - now, it was good.

Still, the Glasswalker mentioned many spirits in the world of Men that only the Glasswalkers knew - this was enough to get the young Stargazer's complete attention.

Walking up to Sophie, Sees-Faces-In-Stars looked up to her homid-form face and sat, looking her in the eyes curiously. "Your spirits and Code I'd like to know, to respect them properly. Will you show me the ways of your Code and spirits?"

(EDIT: typos)
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#32

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Arianne raised her head and gazed at the stars for a moment before starting her own chapter of the story.

"There was a girl, raised among humans as human, but always knowing she was more than they. First among them, always first; then came the change and she knew what she truly was, knew that she among them all was blessed with a dual soul.
The Garou came to her and taught her what she needed to know to survive, what she was, what she was to become. Her past, her future.
That girl grew into a woman, strong and sure, called to choose the good of the pack over the needs of the lone Garou, no matter how close they were to her, even if it was herself.
This is the woman known as Heart-of-Steel."

She lowered her eyes to the others, her confidence a nearly palpable aura about her.
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#33

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Galileo smiled to himself as the last of the cubs sang. Even the ShadowLord had unbent enough to join, which was a sign the young man was willing to work with others. Time to introduce himself and see if they were up to the task he had for them.

A ripple appeared in mid-air near the young Garou, a sign that someone was exiting the Umbra. The man who stepped out looked to be in his late 20s, his face a mix of Oriental, Native American, and Caucasian features. The galliard's moon shone down on his dark hair, highlighting it with reddish overtones, and making his white poet's shirt glow softly in the moonlight. Sees-Faces and Breathes-The-Wind recognize this Elder even before he speaks.

"I am Galileo Crosses-the-Stars, Master of Challenge of the Sept of the Moon's Blessing, and a Ragabash of the Stargazer tribe," he said, turning to look at each of them in turn, and pausing a little longer as he got a better look at the Klaive carried by the young ShadowLord. Whatever he saw there, he said no word, but merely turned back to the others with a slight smile. "Perhaps I should sing in introduction, yet I will spare you the experience. Not everything a Stargazer does is harmonious."

"I am glad you all chose to join me tonight, as this is a matter of some importance. Please be seated, in whatever form you find most comfortable, and I will explain." Did his eyes go to Breathes for a moment at that? A sly tease on the metis' troubles? It did not matter, for the Elder sank gracefully down into the lotus position on one of the higher rocks, waiting for them to gather around him.
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#34

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Stormwalker shifted in Hispo form, that of the great wolf, and sat down, his sword still slung across his back.
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Arianne rises and pads over to where the ragabash has chosen to sit, but not too near him, then settles herself on her haunches and waits.
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#36

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Watching the others begin to gather around Galileo without needing additional encouragement, Sees-Faces-In-Stars leapt lightly between rocks to reach the highest rock where Galileo Crosses-The-Stars sat.

Deciding to remain in his Lupus form, Sees-Faces-In-Stars moved to the spot in relation to the three already present to help form a circle, and sat on his haunches, watching the others in silence.
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#37

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Sophie had not had time to respond to the unexpected request by the Lupus Theurge when all of a sudden, one of the architects of this gathering materialized and asked them to gather around. The fact that it was the Master-of-Challenges requesting them to do this was... a bad sign.

Sophie did not think to shift forms, remaining in Homid, the one she presently held, and sat down on the side of the group, sliding her laptop out of its case as she did, opening it up and setting it on her knees. She plugged the mobile satelite uplink into the back of the small machine, and a nameless black box into the side. A moment later, she was connected to every database, computer, and network in existence on the face of the Earth. It might not be important... but then again it was better to be safe than sorry.

She watched the Ragabash from under her glasses, and waited to hear what was in store.
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#38

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The beating of the drum had stopped as Galileo appeared from the Umbra, and Breathes-the-Winds had looked very startled at the elder's appearance. As the elder asked that they sit in whatever form they found most familiar the Uktena Metis growled slightly before he moved closer to the elder and sat down, still in the form of a Crinos.
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#39

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Galileo noted everything they did, while seeming to be watching the water surging over the sandstone that made up the river bed. The way they sat around him, who sat near whom, how much room was left around the ShadowLord ... who was also very conscious of people seeing that Klaive. He could have let it meld into him when going Hispo.

It seemed of them needed poked as only a Ragabash could, Galileo thought, but now was not the time for teasing. Later, when they would learn the lesson better. Instead, the Elder spoke what he had decided while watching from the Umbra. "Breathes-the-Winds, thank you for greeting the others for me while I was delayed. Your singing was inspired." Galileo knew the young metis had a lot of distrust over praise, yet knew the young Garou deserved it. Galileo would speak to the others of the young metis' wisdom. Perhaps it would raise his renown amongst the Sept.

"Now, as to the reason I asked you to attend me," the Elder stated, looking to the rest of them arrayed around him. "All here should know that for every homid Garou born, there are nine born who do not share our abilities or duty to Gaia as her warriors. Yet they too may serve Gaia in other ways. One such Kinfolk is Professor Alma Childe, who works in the anthropology department at Berea College." Galileo paused, looking at the black-furred Fianna with a slight grin. "I do not think you have met her yet, Heart-of-Steel. Her classes are not for freshmen."

With that aside, the Elder continued. "Prof. Childe studies pre-Columbian lifestyles in the Appalachian region, especially the Cherokee and Choctaw ancestors ... or that is what she claims. In reality, she has been investigating the history of the Uktena and the lost Croatans who once dwelt in these mountains." Again, the Ragabash looked to the Uktena. "Another time, you may wish to ask her about it, Breathes the Winds. She has been finding much that isn't being published for non-Garou."

The smile on his exotic face grows as Galileo continued. "Prof. Childe contacted me yesterday, very excited. In the Berea College archives, she found an artifact that was labeled 'mammoth bone'." There was a slight change in his voice as his own excitement built, and he wanted to spark the imaginations of the cubs before him as well. "The bone was still wrapped in a leather thong, that seems to be the original wrapping. Moreover, she has found the faint tracings of glyphs upon it." While not a Galliard, Galileo knew when to have a dramatic pause. "But they were not carved by any tool."

Glyphs, the written language of the Garou, could be carved into wood or stone by knives but were most often carved solely by the talons of the writer. "Prof. Childe believes the glyphs are from the Croatans. Although she is not one of the Kinfolk who can sense spirits, she also believes the bone to be a Fetish."

If that didn't have their attention, nothing would. Galileo waited for their reactions.
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#40

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Intensely interested, Sees-Faces-In-Stars seemed almost eager after Galileo finished speaking. "I am eager to know, too. Is anyone else looking at it?"
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#41

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The elder's eyes rested on Stormtalon, as he knew they would, revealing the truth behind the elder's facade of disinterest. He had much to learn about how to play this game, but he was learning. He was a child of Thunder and he had learned to his cost that strength was not enough.

"So why has this fetish not been retrieved?" asked Stormwalker. Bait had been laid out. He might as well be the one to take it.
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#42

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Heart-of-Steel widened her eyes in surprise, then flexed her claws. A quest! This was why so many had been summoned, tho she wasn't sure why the elders would send so many untried warriors with no elder to lead them.

"You wish us to go to the professor and retrieve the item, yes? And return here with it." Her eyes narrow. Something thrilled along her nerves, warning her of danger to come.
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#43

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Breathes-the-Winds was cautiously unresponsive to the Elder's praise. Being too accepting of it would be seen as a weakness, as would brushing it off. The Elders were trying him again. They wished to find a reason to remove him from the sept. He wouldn't give them that chance.

The information that Heart-of-Steel was a college student however did perk the Metis' ears as he looked over to the Fianna. The Metis grinned slightly before he returned his attention to the Elder. That he could learn more about his ancestors from one of the kinfolk was something of great interest to the Metis. More information about his people that he may be able to piece together was a worthy goal.

The Songkeeper knew what Galileo was up to, building up the tension for his own amusement before displaying the prize at the end. But the size of the prize surprised Breathes-the-Winds. His ears perked up and his dark eyes went wide. A Croatan artifact was... it was incredible.

Immediately though, the Uktena's ears went back again however. "That is quite an amazing thing elder. But what is the catch?"
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#44

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The mention of the name Croatan gave Sophie a jolt. There were a fair number of relics from the Croatan still around, the tribe had been extinct only for five hundred years after all, and the Wendigo never ceased to scream about how it was all the fault of the non-native Garou, the Glass Walkers in particular. A Croatan relic was a historical curiosity, but hardly worth bringing in other Garou

A fetish however was a different story.

The others asked for what their task was to be. Sophie assumed they would be told that as a matter of course, and thus her question was somewhat different.

"Do we know anything about this fetish? Do we know what spirit lives inside it, or what it does?"
Gaze upon my works, ye mighty, and despair...

Havoc: "So basically if you side against him, he summons Cthulu."
Hotfoot: "Yes, which is reasonable."
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#45

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As Galileo had hoped, the cubs had quickly gotten excited, and he grinned widely at the rush of questions. He answered them each in turn, sounding like the teacher of youth that he loved to be. "No, Faces, no one else yet to study it. Stormwalker, Heart of Steel has your answer -- I am tasking you five with retrieval. The 'Catch', Breathes, is we are wanting this back by moonrise tomorrow." That was another tease at the metis' special circumstances. "And no, Sophie, we do not yet even know if Prof. Childe is right about it -being- a fetish, however the chances are favorable. We'll know once we have it here and Lugh Light-on-the-Water has a chance to speak to it," he finished, referring to the Fianna theurge who was the Sept's Master of the Rite.

Now that each one's first questions are answered, Galileo continued with the plan he and the Sept Leader had devised. "Since there are five going, I have asked Hattie Thunderwife to allow you use of one of the jeeps all day tomorrow. Be sure to gas it up before you return it. Heart of Steel attends Berea, so she will be your guide there and back." He gave Stormwalker a grin. "Since you are the other homid, you and she may discuss who drives. Just don't let Faces behind the wheel, and try to keep the discussion to words only." The Ragabash was having fun pullin' the youn'uns tails now.
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#46

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Looking just as keenly interested, Sees-Faces-In-Stars spoke up. "I look forward to going. And why can I not move the jeep-creature?"
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#47

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Breathes-the-Winds was quiet. They didn't trust him out among the humans. They knew of his condition and were worried that if they took any longer on the mission that he would become a problem. The Metis narrowed his eyes and snorted loudly. Then Galileo ignored him as he spoke of the others. Practically handing control over to the Fianna and the Shadowlord, and neglecting to even mention either Metis.

Breathes-the-Winds took a long steadying breath to calm himself. This kind of treatment was something he was long used to. "Very well elder. I suppose you want us to leave in the morning." It was his way of letting the elder know that he knew he was being singled out for being a Metis.
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#48

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"I'm a city boy," said Stormwalker. "Don't drive much." The Ragabash had admitted this was a test without ever directly saying so. Clever. He needed to remember that trick. The manipulation was brazen, but well handled. He had learned a little about this one, enough to respect him. But did they respect him? Probably not. It would be best to keep that in mind.
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Arianna rises and shifts into Homid form. "I vote for leaving right away. If we were called to meet now, then now is when we should go. Besides," she adds, "We would be more conspicuous during the day." She turns her attention to the elder.

"I presume Professor Childe will be expecting us? Is she in her office, or the anthropology lab?"

She looks at the Glasswalker. "It would be good to know the addresses of both places. I know some places on-campus, but my course of study hasn't taken me to the anthropology department."

The elder nominally put her in charge, so to speak, as the guide to the group. She will not let the elders down.
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#50

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"I believe she'll be in her bed sleeping," said Stormwalker.
It's not that I'm unforgiving, it's that most of the people who wrong me are unrepentant assholes.
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