Werewolf: Appalachian Moonrise, Ch 1

[LadyTevar]

SeesFaces felt Luna before he saw her, his connection to the spirit world sensing her light shining down upon them. He turned his eyes to Her, in her guise as the Waxing Gibbous Moon, the moon of the Galliards, and he took courage and strength from Her.

He looked back upon their enemy, the watery Mother of Banes, and felt only Rage that such an abomination should exist beneath Luna's clear light. With a snarl he leapt, clawing a rent in the bubble of tainted water the Bane was using as her skin. Water poured briefly from the wound, making the BaneMother shrink smaller.

[Charon]

Breathes-the-Winds howled in rage as he struck out again, intent on gouging out the creature's eyes. Claws that could cut into steel drove into the watery membrane of the beast, shattering one of the creature's eyes and leaving a sticky ruin as he hit his target. Fluid spurted out of the wound on impact, and then ran lazily down the creature as it let out a horrible screech.

[Cynical Cat]

As Breathes-the-Winds tore at the upper part of the Bane, Stormwalker sliced at it's underside, cutting through its bubble body and spilling torrents of contaminated water. Streams of brackish fluid streamed down the Bane's sides as the horned Metis tore at the Bane's eyes and the horrific being seemed to collapse inwards on its self. It was hard to say whose blow had slain the Bane, as both wounds had clearly been serious and inflicted almost simultaneously.

Alexander stepped away from what was left of the Bane's body. "I'm going to retrieve the prisoner," he growled and headed back toward the tree.

[LadyTevar]

Mortally wounded, the Bane Mama fled the physical world, retreating to the Umbra in an attempt to recover. The flood waters it had summoned forth swam back into the pond, leaving all the Werewolves back on solid ground, although wet clear through and smelling slightly of the sludge from the tainted water.

Neil Crier had reverted to human, half-drowned and unconscious from Arianne's attempts to keep him from running away. In the tree, Red Bledsoe cried as his deity ran from the battle, wounded and beaten. As Alexander approached, the Fomor again struggled against his bonds, attempting now only to escape the scarred and battered wolves.

Sees Faces edged back from the pond, his theurge senses now feeling what had been hidden before. The Bane Mama wasn't alone here. "We need to get the Elders to clean this," he growled softly.

[Cynical Cat]

Stormwalker patted Red on the cheek. "Not laughing now are we precious?" said the Shadow Lord. He let out a sound, half chuckle and half growl. "Things not go like you were hoping? Don't worry, we still have uses for you."

The Crinos form Garou didn't bother untying the fomor, freeing him instead by the expedient of breaking off the branch. "Let's go rejoin the party, shit for brains," Alexander growled as he dragged the fomor back to the others.

[Charon]

Breathes-the-Winds crashed to the ground rather unceremoniously. Getting to his feet, the Garou growled, looking from the surviving Bledson, to Crier, and then to the rest of the pack. Something wasn't right here, and it wasn't just the bane that had been here. Someone had tipped the Bledsons that trouble was coming. But which of them had done it?

"There look like there's any other way out of here except passing through the town again?"

[Devonie]

Arianne growled in her throat as she dragged Crier toward the others. "The Whistler's still down there," she pointed out. "Where do you think they hid the bone? Up here or down there?"

She eyed Red distastefully. "Guess we gotta ask, huh?" She grinned (a grinning Crinos is a terrible thing to see). "But we don't gotta ask nice."

[Cynical Cat]

"Are you seriously calling that collection of ramshackle houses a town?" Alexander asked incredulously. "You know what, don't answer that."

"We have all sorts of options," Stormwalker said, looking at the prisoners. "Starting with searching these assholes and working our way up from there. Besides, we have Neil here and I bet Crier isn't feeling to well disposed towards his former buddies. They did just try to sacrifice his ass and he's in deep shit for his theft so he might feel like digging his ass out by telling us what we want to know. We can play the NYPD's favorite game: whoever rats first gets a deal and the other guys get fucked."

[General Havoc]

Sophie had no particular desire to be within a hundred miles of this place, but right now they didn't have much of a choice but to see things through. She shifted effortlessly back into her Homid form, holstering her CZ-75, and holding her newly aquired shotgun awkwardly with both hands. She was hardly a gun nut, but two of her uncles had been enthusiasts (one of real guns, one of Counterstrike), and she knew at least how to identify most of the common models and makes of handguns, rifles, and shotguns, but she had been a bit occupied trying not to get eaten by the bane mother to do any inspection of the shotgun when she had snatched it up, and right now she was more interested in the shells than the gun. Likely it was just a generic civilian-model pump, probably a Remington, Mossberg, or even a Winchester.

She slowly pumped the remaining shotgun shells out of the shotgun. The thing had been loaded with silver buck, at least for the first round, and she wanted to see if the others were also filled with the stuff. As she did this, she frowned at Alexander and Crier.

"I don't think he's got the wherewithall to tell us that water's wet," she said. "And I'm not sure I'd believe him if he did. Maybe we could try the townsfolk," she was using the term loosely. "They might have seen something."

It was a weak suggestion and she knew it, but right now her brain was still trying to reset itself after being attacked and nearly eaten by an animate lake. This was not the sort of thing that happened in Chicago...

... usually.

[Cynical Cat]

"They aren't townsfolk," said Alexander. "That's your basic fucked up, Wyrm screwed over, backwoods extended family. These sacks of shit are the men."

The werewolf, still in Crinos, began to systematically search the bodies of the dead and the prisoners, tossing the weapons far away in one big pile. "Anyone got a mirror and tweezers?" Alexander asked.

[General Havoc]

Sophie frowned at Alexander. "Whatever you call them, they still might have seen something. Crier's a raving lunatic, and the guys we left alive are wyrm-tainted cultists. Feel free to try and decrypt his ravings, but I don't think it's a bad idea to check and see if those people down there know anything useful. I doubt they'll be any more hostile than these assholes."

She shook her head in disgust. "Besides, I don't think I'd call these losers men."

[Cynical Cat]

"I'm not objecting to asking questions," said Alexander. "Hells, I did that and they pointed out the trail all nice and neat. But they aren't a town, they're kin to these douchebags and they're all set to star in a Black Fury presentation of 'Why Men Suck'. There the sisters and mothers and daughters and wives of these assholes. You're walking into a domestic situation and those can get all kinds of crazy."

[General Havoc]

"I seriously doubt they're going to get any crazier than what just happened here," said Sophie, "and if they decide they want to rip these wastes of air to pieces, I'm certainly not gonna stand in their way."

She considered saying half a dozen different things before deciding on one. "If you think they're liable to go Black Fury on everyone, then maybe Arienne and I should talk to them while you guys finish with Crier and the others. They'll probably be less likely to try something with us."

The last part was complete conjecture on Sophie's part, but it made a certain degree of sense. What she left unsaid was that she would sooner have gone swimming after that Bane monster than subject the clearly and repeatedly abused women and kids down in that town to whatever tender mercies Alexander the Shadowlord defined as 'asking questions'. Let Crier and the drunkards find that out. Besides, even if he managed to control himself, the contempt radiating off of him for these people was palpable, and unlikely to make matters better.

Honestly, she was considering just heading back down there herself, but she wasn't at all sure of what kind of reception to expect. Alexander was right about one thing at least, this was some kind of horribly screwed up domestic situation that could get very ugly very fast. She had no idea if the people down there were going to react by thanking them, shooting them, or going catatonic and screaming a lot. On the one hand, these people were their relatives, husbands even. On the other hand, they were drunken, abusive monsters. She had no idea what to expect.

Best in that case to have someone on hand who could handle herself in close quarters combat, just in case.

[Cynical Cat]

"I'm saying," said Alexander, "this abusive Wyrm tainted assholes are still their kin and sometimes abused family members will side with the abusers against outsiders. That's why cops hate domestics. There's a fuckload of Wyrm taint and these guys were packing silver. They're potentially dangerous to us. There maybe more silver weapons in their houses and the women can be abuse victims and still be Wyrm tainted. Watch your ass when dealing with them."

[LadyTevar]

SeesFaces had shifted back to Lupus, and sat watching the discussion with interest. He had no understanding of this do-mes-tic, so he was content to let those who did deal with it.

Then a Howl came from below, echoing up the holler. The echos distorted it a little, but the message was simple enough -- 'How goes the Hunt'. SeesFaces' ears pricked up, and he grinned happily. "Galilleo! It's Galilleo!" he said with the certainty of lupine senses. He howled back down the valley without thinking of anything save their victory. "We Are Well, Prey Is Down!"

[Charon]

Breathes-the-Winds listened carefully. The idea that the Bledsons had betrayed Crier did make more sense than that someone had set them up. After all, Crier was still bitching about someone having taken the bone.

"We'll deal with the possibly wyrm-tainted town later." Breathes spoke in the tongue of the Garou, "Right now we need to know where the hell that fetish went, which is something that likely only Crier and our surviving Bledson know, and I don't think the Bledson's gonna talk."

Sees-Faces howled and Breathes' ears perked up. "We aren't done here yet, still plenty to do."

[LadyTevar]

"But if they are here, then they can help," Sees Faces answered Breaths-the-Wind with a lupine grin. "The Sept can clean the BaneWater, and get the Bled-son to talk."

[Cynical Cat]

Alexander pulled out a business card for "Smoky Mountain Futures", Aaron Sterling, Manager and "Dealer in valuable antiques". No money though. Even as criminals the Bledsons were bigger losers than inner city corner boys. "Well well well," he said.

[General Havoc]

As she had assumed, the gun proved to be a 12-gauge Remington 870, the most common shotgun in the world, though hardly a bad model for that. Pumping the last of the shells out of the shotgun, Sophie didn't need to unpack them to be able to feel that they were all loaded with silver shot. The former wielder had fired one round at them, and Sophie herself had expended another. That left six shells, each one loaded with one and one third ounces of the deadliest substance known to werewolves. Sophie had known of high ranking Glasswalkers who kept silver-loaded guns for skirmishes with vampires or other werewolves, should the need arise, but she'd never had any such rounds herself. The red-jacketed shells seemed to draw on her attention, feeding on her Gnosis and concentration.

Of course, on the other hand, imagine what they would do to anything susceptible that came their way...

For now, having no other shells to replace them with, Sophie loaded the rounds back into the shotgun, one by one, then pumped the gun once to chamber one.

It would do for now.

"Find something?" she asked Alexander, as she stood back up.

[Cynical Cat]

"Yeah. Antique dealer's card," said Alexander. "Just the kind of place these pieces of shit my go to fence an artifact."

[Charon]

Breathes looked at the Bledson, growling in the Garou language "Well that means one of two things, either these guys are dense as shit, or our mystery item isn't really a fetish after all."

[Cynical Cat]

"We know they're fucking stupid," said Alexander. "And they've only had it for a matter of hours. So if it isn't around here, this," he said, holding up the card, "is our best bet. Also, they've got what appears to be a customer list for their poisoned moonshine. If the sept has any police connections that shit can be put out of circulation before it does more damage."

[Charon]

"I'm not willing to bet it all on the fact that these assholes are that stupid, but you've got a point. We should get moving as quick as..." Breathes paused. "You guys should get moving as quick as possible. I'll stay here and help with the clean-up."

[Cynical Cat]

"Oh high and mighty elder," said Alexander. "Have anything to contribute?"

[LadyTevar]

Sees-Faces looks around in confusion, before looking back at Alex. "No elder here, they're all down there," the lupus replied, his head tilted to one side. "Do we take Crier and that one to them now?"