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 Château de Peyrepertuse For whatever reason, from whatever direction, the five have gathered to set right the folly of the Iron Eagle. It is late this Spring evening, and here on the southeastern border of France, the pack finds itself in the Château de Peyrepertuse, a ruined fortress and famed Cathar castle, one of the five sons of Carcassonne. Within its courtyard lies the site of the tur, a meeting ground for all concerned parties; all around, to those who can sense them, circle spirits of worry, magic, and fear. Even as one approaches the castle, the spirits can be felt circling it, but none draw near. And the reason for it is made clear once the pack is inside. Sitting in the courtyard is an ancient looking woman with eyes the color of steel, her body covered in brightly colored, hand sewn cloth and numerous fetishes; despite her apparent age she radiates with power and confidence. To her right stands a thin, dark skinned man whose features seem to faintly shift and slide, never quite settling to give one a good idea of what he looks like; he wears the robes of his order, bearing a badge with an iron mask on his breast. The man reeks of magic for those that can sense it. To her left stands a pale woman of indeterminate age and great beauty, with curly red hair and large green eyes. She wears simple clothes and a beret, and at her side hangs a submachine gun. She is unnatural, that much is obvious. Once all members of the pack have arrived, the old woman rises from her seat on the ground, stretching to pop her back and taking up her cane. For a moment, her gaze lingers heavily on Markus, and she gestures at him with her staff. When she speaks, it is a deep and dominant voice, with no discernable accent. "When I was told one of the Anshega was coming, I had thought it a cruel joke. Times must truly be terrible for one such as you to join with the Urdaga.." She trails off, still squinting at Markus. After a moment, she chuckles. "Without you, they would be a blessed pack, if all is to be believed. You have quite a bit of weight to pull here, Izidakh." She grins cruelly, but continues to stare down Markus.  Clearing his throat, the mage speaks up in her place. His voice is soft and British. "Quite right then. I am Mortimer Kelley, Magister Inheritor of the Guardians of the Veil. Erm, I suppose you wouldn't know what a lick of that means.." He pauses, scrunching his face up in thought. "To put it simply, my order is tasked with protecting the, ah, general population from knowledge that beings such as you or I or her from existing." He nods to the vampire woman, who gives him a faint smirk, before turning to speak. Her voice is bubbly and energetic, and deeply accented with French.  "And I am Felicity Bissette, Toreador, and rebel. It is not just the French peoples who are threatened here, but my heart is truly with the resistance in this, and the fight for the freedoms of all European men and women, and not just the kindred." She grins, revealing her fangs. "And this old woman, is Madam Nystiael, of the Storm Lords. She is why we are here tonight."  Nystiael finally stops staring through Markus and shakes her head, looking between the mage and vampire before turning back to the pack. "Yes, thank you, for all of your time travelling here. Before we begin, I have to make sure.. do you know why you are here? Do you know what is truly, truly at stake here?" She gives the pack a steely glare. "Are you ready to do what must be done?" ------ Welcome to the game! Feel free to ask questions; you guys just came across most of France, possibly Europe or even the Meditarrean, to reach this place, lead by spirit helpers. Feel free to joke around and expand on what you went through getting here, we'll get the game underway and the first mission detailed once we're all in and all questions are handled. Shogeton - Markus Mann (Pure Fire-Touched) Frajaq - Felipe Guimaraes (Rahu Ghost Wolf) SevenSocks - Christoph Baumhauer (Irraka Ghost Wolf) Wahad - Eleanor Mercer (Ithaeur Iron Masters) Epicurius - Jean Marillac (Elodoth Bone Shadows)
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Jan 28, 2015 07:22
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Markus Mann It has been a long travel for Markus. From the north of Germany down to the south of France. Initially, he'd gone to the other Pure Packs. Burnmark had been a Uratha of considerable influence and pull among the Pure in Northern Germany. Markus Mann himself, considerably less, especially after he fled when the rest of his pack got captured, ordered or not. They spoke to him, some even offered to let him drink from their loci, a few even suggested he join their packs. But to make war upon other Pure was not something he could make them do. Indeed, some Pack visits had ended up with him being hunted, as those werewolves there had joined up with Ironeyes' plan, either out of fear or because they believed the Pure cause would be served with this alliance. And then some packs just were... not there anymore. Further south, it had only been more difficult, as the benefits of his reputation started to diminis. Less packs were willing to speak to him, more of them actually hunted him. And during it all, mortal authorities seemed to harass him as well, and he lived a life of paranoia, never sleeping twice in the same spot for concern that he might wake up in chains. Up till now, he'd always been supported by a Pack, and known he was part of a righteous army of Purity and now he'd been alone. He'd prayed to Grumir-Ur daily, scoured himself for his failure to properly speak his truth and convince others and the occasional thoughts of giving up that crept up. He'd prayed for guidance. And he found it. During a stay in the Hisil, his prayers were answered. Fire spirits, usually helpful disposed towards those that follow Rabid Wolf, guided him. Whenever he went in the Hisil, they'd mark a fiery trail for him to follow. A trail that led him further and further south. He didn't doubt during that time. Once he stopped trying to arrange meetings with every Pure Pack he encountered, he could travel fast. He left Germany moving quickly through occupied France. He wasn't one with skill in stealth, but speed served him well instead, and his enemies seemed to have lost either his trail or interest in him. And now, he had arrived here. Part of him had doubted for a moment. To work with the Urdaga? But the fire spirits had shown him the way, a message from Grumir-Ur. In his service, all sins could be given penance and then forgiven. He might not survive the penance for this, but if it had to be done. Still, at the mention of the woman, he bristles. "They most certainly are terrible." He says. "But we'll have to get through them without a matching set of slave collars." He glared back. He would work with these Forsaken, but he would not be cowed by them. The blood-thief and the mage are barely given a glance as he has to focus on not looking away from the old woman, while still making sure his temper was kept in check. Only when she looked away, did he, giving the two non-werewolves a glance. When her question is asked, he answers. "Humanity is trespassing where it has no place." He glances at the mage. "Moreso than usual. They seek to exploit the spirit realm in their petty war, and worse, they have the tools to do so. They must be shown their place. Those who have the knowledge among them must be killed, and the source of their knowledge has to be hunted down and made an example of. " I remember that I have not given my name. "I am Markus Mann, of the Izidakh. My pack, the Rasierer was taken by them." The next words come out difficult, like bitter ash, but Rabid Wolf demands truth, and since he has guided me here, truth I will give. "And they were helped by others Uratha. A pack led by a Tzzumfin called Ilsa Iron-Eyes. She is trying to guide others of our tribes to join with her. To work with these humans and use them to hunt you down. But her plan is wrong." Shogeton posted:Markus Mann
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Jan 28, 2015 13:10
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 Felipe Guimarães He didn't want to admit it, but he was nervous in this place. Extremely so. Ever since Felipe became one of them, the other four werewolves, he understood that there was much more beyond the reality that he was used to, and that he was to protect the barrier between the spirit world and this realm. While studying in England he was frequently asked to help different Packs in some spiritual or magical problem, and he accepted, to discover more about himself. But he never stayed in a Pack for long, and when the business was done, he was back to being alone, always refusing to join the other tribes. One day he was simply called to a place far away, a scent in the air and a noise in his head that wouldn't go away. Felipe knew he had to go somewhere else than London. Finding his way to Château de Peyrepertuse was not easy at all, specially for a foreigner like him, that only spoke English in obvious accent. And he never had much social graces to start. So when he finally reached the place and the situation was kinda explained to him, he frankly wanted to go away. The young man was very confident in his strength, particularly when Gauru, but this was too much. A mage, a vampire, a senior Storm Lord? With stakes this high? Felipe fidgets around the place, sweat dropping and looking nervously around. He listens carefully when Markus Mann starts speaking. "I'm glad someone at least knows whats going on." he thinks. With limited knowledge of how exactly the Uratha worked, he knew that Markus was one of the Pure, and because of that, he was different from him, Baumhauer, Mercer and Marillac. But he seemed to know what he was doing so he stayed close to him. Nevertheless he casts nervous glances at the non-Pure members of the pack, unsure how to proceed. Maybe silence would serve him for now. pre:Tribe: Ghost Wolf
Auspice: Rahu
Attributes:
Mental Physical Social
Power Intelligence *** Strength **** Presence **
Finesse Wits ** Dexterity ** Manipulation *
Resistance Resolve ** Stamina ** Composure ***
Skills:
Physical
Athletics:*** (Specialty: Swimming)
Brawl:**** (Specialty: Capoeira)
Drive:
Firearms:
Larceny:
Stealth:** (Specialty: Moving in Woods)
Survival: ** (Specialty: Foraging)
Weaponry:
Social
Animal Ken:
Empathy:
Expression:
Intimidation:** (Specialty: Physical Threats)
Persuasion:
Socialize:
Streetwise:**
Subterfuge:
Mental
Academics:
Computer:***** (Specialty: Radios)
Crafts:
Investigation:
Medicine:
Occult:
Politics:
Science: *
GIFTS:
Crushing Blow (STRENGTH *)
Mighty Bound (STRENGTH **)
Iron-Rending (STRENGTH ***)
Attunement (FULL MOON **)
MERITS:
Language (English) **
Fighting Style (Capoeira) **
Fast Reflexes **
Brawling Dodge *
ADVANTAGES:
Defense: 2
Health: 7/7
Size: 5
Initiative: 5
Harmony: 7
Speed:11
Willpower:5
Essence:10 (7 + 2 At Chateau +1 Full Moon)
Renown:
Purity***
Experience: 18/30
Purity*** - 18
frajaq fucked around with this message at 04:55 on Feb 19, 2015 |
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Jan 28, 2015 19:49
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 Eleanor Mercer Her own journey had not been as harsh as some. Since her initiation she had been wandering around France with her mentor, Peter Travers, at first, learning all she could about this new world she had been thrust into so suddenly, going from pack to pack to learn all she could. And then the call had come for a hunt unlike any other, and through Peter's connections she had found a way to this pack-to-be, and later this tur. Her home in Wales was far, far away. She had not seen it in years. But then, she supposed, it was no longer her home. Had she even a home anymore? The tribe that had taken her said she was always welcome amongst them, but to be welcome in someone else's house is no home. Perhaps, once this was all done, she could get her own territory. That might be nice. But for now she was here, in the tur, with these strangers. He had told her about these other beings, vampires and mages, though she had never actually seen one before. To find them here, with an elder, was highly unusual, to say the least. But then she supposed their hunt-to-be was very unusual, too, and thus required unusual measures to be taken. Eleanor's steely gaze passes unwavering over both the man and woman, sizing them up, ever-looking for weakness, ever defiant. Some might think her weak because she was a nurse, and not a warrior. Some might think her weak because she was a woman. But all who would make the mistake found themselves at the receiving end of a fury so strong even hardened soldiers cowered. There was a saying that the French soldiers at the front-lines would say to eachother when they saw the nurse go off on one who had overstepped his boundaries. Craignez la colère de la colombe. Beware the anger of the dove. But she was no longer a dove now, and her wrath had only grown. But the muth luzuk and the umma would not suffer that wrath. No, that was for the Eagle and the foolishness they had wrought. And the Pure, should he decide to find his Forsaken allies unworthy of walking with him. Oh, how she longed to tear out his tendons and send him home crippled. But no. The Izidakh would live for now. Her duty came first, as it always did. Her duty to her pack, to her tribe, to all the People and, apparently, the Kindred and Mages too. Eleanor straightened her back, matching the gaze of the elder undaunted. "I do understand. Our duty is to fight against the horrors that the Nazis have brought upon us and mankind, to save both this world and the Shadow. I know the stakes. My name is Eleanor Mercer, of the Farsil Luhal, and I am prepared."
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Jan 28, 2015 21:19
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Fr. Merrilac "If we do not have a blessed pack, we will have to make our own blessing, then.", the priest observes. His had been one of the shortest journeys of the group, but not the easiest. The Boche had been cracking down on movement within the Occupied Zone, and had tightened the border . His collar had helped, though. The Germans were of two minds about priests. He had heard of atrocities against the Church elsewhere in occupied territories, and priests and nuns were often suspected as local leaders who could resist German rule. On the other hand, the Church in France had famously been opposed to the Third Republic and supported the new French government, which the Germans appreciated, and there were a substantial minority of Catholics in the German army. He also had the advantage that, while the occupiers were concerned about the movement of men, they didn't pay as much attention to dogs, even dogs that looked suspiciously wolflike. So, while it wasn't easy, he managed to cross through the lines and make his way though southern France to make it to the meeting. The site of the meeting was inauspicious, though, as the place had been most famous as the last stand of doomed heretics. Still, it was what it was, he had no control over it. "Spirits are dangerous, and humanity having anything more to do with them than they have to is foolishness. But while I don't know the details of what the Germans are doing, I know they're meddling with the spirit world in ways beyond that that's been seen before in recent history. Where did they get such knowledge. Was it just this Ilsa Iron-Eyes? Or are they getting help from other sources, as well?"
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Jan 29, 2015 01:55
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 Christoph Baumhauer It wasn't much of a home, but Christoph hadn't learned how few could claim as much as he held, more in default than strength or presence. An isolated stretch of wilderness, cut from common access by rocky foothills and snowfed streams, flush with opportunities and game for a baleful urshul or keen nosed urhan, which made it all the more surprising when the thunder of rifles pierced the boundaries. Rank and file in countless number, at once an army and a happy few, this brigade encircled him in his home among the trees, pushing from the trenches of twilight to corner the hunter in his own shadow. It was only then, forced to bring tooth and claw to bear, that these spirits barked, and Christoph would bark back. Spirits of War, their words cracked with the report of the 17th Schützenkorps as they'd fill his ears with senseless orders. His brigade had need of him, eyes and ears and nose. He was to march to France, again, over the southern hills, the Alps, a great many hills. The commanders were at their posts, waiting for soldiers, for hunters, for dogs. Senseless, though he could sense their urgency, if not in words and roaring then in the way they hounded his heels, spurring him to march. At every peak his brothers in arms were 'just over the next hill, waiting on you alone.' and he was off again, following the spectral bugle's call and the ethereal flag waving in the distance. If there was a fortune he could claim, it was the briskness of pace and silence of step that followed his charge into southern france. So few people called these mountains home, and fewer held questions for a weary traveler chasing an unseen trail with a distinct speck of horizon in his eyes, most sharing either silence or the sacred hospitality. It was in the late evening he arrived, spanning the final stretch of glorious Mediterranean coastline towards the castle walls, greeted by the empty salute of twilight soldiers a distance from it's gates. ---- Four men, three women, but three of the gathering stood apart. The man, Mortimer, was a queasy prospect. By all measures Christoph could make he was, just that, only a man, but his stride and stance was guarded by some veil of the air, features blurring just out of focus, straining the eyes. The woman, the rebel, the bombastic. This one carried all the reverie of France's maiden pride, swung and flaunting from her tone just as the weapon from her hip, or the hair from her head. Despite all this lively fervor, Christoph could hardly say if she was alive. Beyond the permeating smell of perfume and gunpowder, there was little else to sense beyond the faint reek of death on her words. The older woman, well, any thoughts he could pass on her were silenced as she began to speak, tapping an instinct that drew him into line with the others. At the very least he felt, as always, more or less overlooked. The predominant attentions fell on the roughly worn man, the german, the pure.
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Jan 29, 2015 04:23
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The old Storm Lord laughs heartily and grins a toothy grin. "Were you not what you are, I believe the Fury Choir would sing your praises." She gives the pure werewolf a sad smile before looking to the mage, giving him a faint nod. Mortimer clears his throat, looking a bit uncomfortable to be in the middle of werewolf politics, and he folds his arms across his chest. "Er, yes, the..." He pauses, obviously trying to come up with a tactful word. "The German has it at its simplest. The man behind all of this is, Adolph Hitler, seems to be be one of the awakened, but as far as we have been able to ascertain, holds no understanding of the supernal world or ability to wield the prime materia in either of its states. By all means, he should be a, relatively speaking, normal human being. A bit of a tinpot dictator, but no different than any of the other sleepers." He clears his throat again, tucking his hands behind his back. "Someone introduced the truth behind the Lie to Hitler, and he and his cabal have been practicing very, very vulgar magic that has been causing rampant paradoxes, primarily of the manifestation sort; creatures from the abyss have been used as part of the war machine closer to Germany itself." "The High Consilium of Europe has done all we can to try to hide these effects from the greater body of sleepers, either by countering the spells where we can, dealing with the paradoxical incursions, or using the very disbelief inherent in humanity to make it seem like little more than propaganda and tall tales. It's been working so far, but he has been spreading its use outward." Felicity raises her hand and eyebrows at Mortimer, who nods to her, letting her speak. "The various princes and barons of Vampiric Europe believe it may have been the discovery of one of our own that lead this madman down his current path. To what extent they aided him, we are unsure, but we know now that he holds the loyalty of numerous kindred. Whether they follow by choice or coercion, we're unsure. But, we do know there is one who wishes to get out, and he may be our first step in setting the world right once more." She lets this sink in for a moment before continuing. "Currently, in Lyon, we have received word from a ghoul that his master, a kindred scientist who at first willingly sided with Hitler, wishes to defect and aide the effort against the fuhrer. He claims to hold some knowledge of Hitler's plans and where his resources are currently aimed, and how to perhaps counter the madman in his works." She gestures strongly as she speaks, letting her passion for ending the war come through. "He knows he will be ultimately punished, but even he does not wish this to be our last nights." Nystiael speaks after a few moments of silence. [ b]"That is why we, the children of Urfarah, are here. Of the supernatural, we are the ones that move the easiest amongst humanity. While the afhal wield power unlimited, they are frail and human, and have desires that may conflict with the natural order of the world; while the muth luzuk are mighty, they must move during the night and must feed, and their own plans and plots may run afoul of protecting gurihal."[/b] She ignores the offended look of her two partners and stands tall, smiling warmly. "The spirits are unruly, and we must hunt them, and bring them back into control. This.. this is what all werewolves must do. It is what Father Wolf did. And whether we are Pure or Forsaken, we must continue to fulfill his duty."
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Jan 30, 2015 00:30
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Felipe Guimarães And now the pieces start falling together, he had no idea how chaotic the situation was. Now there was nowhere else in the world Felipe wanted to be. Even better, they had a first target to hunt, something he enjoyed it a lot. "What kind of problems we may face going to Lyon? And when we reach this defecting vampire are we to bring him back to here?"
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Jan 30, 2015 00:55
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Markus Mann "Where I'm from, you usually don't inherit the privileges and duties of your father if you murdered him. The spirits are not the problem. Humanity is. Between their magics, the soldiers looking for us and any supernatural allies our enemy has, I think we've got enough to do without angering the spirits with Forsaken arrogance." Not the most diplomatic, but this Felipe seemed to be young and uninformed about the world. It wouldn't do to let Forsaken lies stand unopposed.µ Still, the mission at hand. "Who claims territory in Lyon? Are they Pure or Forsaken, and do we know if they are allied or hostile to our cause? I look at the two humans, one of them empowered, the other one dead. "And your types. Besides our mark himself, who can we expect to help or hinder us there?" Shogeton fucked around with this message at 17:20 on Jan 31, 2015 |
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Jan 30, 2015 01:51
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There is a moment of heavy silence as the Storm Lord bristles at Makrus' words, but before she can react, Felicity responds. "Lyon is the heart of the resistance in France, so there will be the freedom fighters within on our side; they may not know our true goals or intentions, and it heavies my heart to lie to the people, but they would happily aide in freeing someone who can strike a blow to the Iron Eagle. The kindred are many within France, but many have been forced into hiding, so I do not know who would be available to help. As for the wizards.." Mortimer gives the woman a strange look for the use of such a term, and then simply shrugs. "As far as I am aware, there are no sympathetic magi within a hundred miles of Lyon. It is too small of a town; there may be those who practice on their own, but frankly I'd find that hard to believe." "As for resistance? It may simply be this Hitler's gestapo, his elite secret police. They know Lyon to be a hotbed of insurrection, and with it so close to the Swiss border, it's been a great way to secretly move refugees into neutral territory. There's likely to be at least a minimal occupational force there. I've not heard rumors of anyone being overtly supernatural there, but I wouldn't count against it." He looks to Felicity, who shrugs and motions for him to go on. He nods, pulling a sheet of paper from within his robes and unfolding it. "Our man goes by the name of Johann van.. Johannes?" He squints at the paper before glancing over to Felicity, who leans over to scrutinize the paper, her eyebrows raising as she speaks. "Strange name, but oui. He is one of the kindred, as we have said, but we know little about him. He claims to have in-depth knowledge of Hitler's machinations, and he has helped the domain's ghouls stave off an attack by the abominations created by the Eagle." "We believe he is on the up and up, but we don't know how far his knowledge extends. As far as we are informed, he is within the gestapo headquarters within Lyon; he claims to have been moved here on suspicion of undermining the regime's rule. It is likely the man will be executed when he is of no more use." During the conversation, the old lady simply broods, glowering at Markus but holding her tongue.
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Jan 30, 2015 02:33
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Felipe Guimarães During the awkward silence between the elder Storm Lord and the Pure, Felipe keeps glancing between them, unsure what to think. While studying in London he was called upon from time to time to aid against troublesome spirits and the like. He helped because he thought that was simply what all werewolves do, the reason for this curse/blessing and that he turning into one was merely coincidence. He never wanted to join a tribe or learn more about the why of it all because they didn't matter so much, he focused mostly on his human side. But hearing these two talk in the Château now makes Felipe thinks... was there another side to this story? He realizes he probably never met a Pure before, not that he ever asked about it to other werewolves. And what this Mann spoke of makes sense, it's the drat humans that are causing this terrible war and unleashing monstrosities that shouldn't exist. Felipe would ask more another time. "So... we would pose as fellow freedom fighters? Will we get the equipment for it, like a radio or vehicles?"
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Jan 30, 2015 02:48
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Christoph Baumhauer Vampires? It made some sense. Old Balkan legend was rife with blood drinking warlords and outcasts. It hardly seemed out of place in the grand scheme of afflictions that tainted the world these days. "This man. This Johann. His scent is like you? Like death?" Christoph aimed his question relatively callously at Felicity, getting a read on the little he understood outright. Finding someone fell squarely under his understanding. There were obvious social overtures playing out between the summoners and their summoned charges. The glowing elder held some hatred for 'pure' of their kind, but he could always ask later. It's not like either had shown any stiffness in their tongues. The german and the elder's issues were their own, and Christoph was still picking together the pieces of the trail that led him here, and likely led all of them there. Before it was curiosity that pulled his out of his home to fight in France, but now, among the others and the elders and the spinning talks of dictators and mystics, it seemed like fate. It was all too, he believed the french called it, Deja vu. "And the resistance. My country, I only here whispers, but she does not fight as yours does. Too eager to join this new Prussian empire. But they are hidden, yes? Are there names? Places we should search?" SevenSocks fucked around with this message at 20:10 on Jan 30, 2015 |
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Jan 30, 2015 03:29
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Eleanor Mercer He speaks of arrogance. Hypocrite. But the Pure was right. It would do well to know whom of the People had claim to the area of Lyon. "So we have the possibility of Kindred and the certainty of mortals - but none of the People? Or do we simply not know who holds Lyon? I would feel safer knowing that there is someone to turn to if we so need it...but then, I suppose, safety is not a luxury we can afford much in the coming days" Whatever else, it would not do to simply charge in without heeding any boundaries to find this Johann fellow. Trespassing into designated territory might get them into more trouble than they could afford, especially now. And besides, she did not feel much like relying on vampires or humans in their struggle. What did they know of the spirits? Nothing.
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Jan 31, 2015 16:50
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Markus Mann She went quiet. That was pretty much a sign that he shouldn't push further. He didn't actually want the elder Werewolf to fly into a rage. Even if in victory, nothing would be won. So he didn't stare her down this time, just looking at the others as information was given. Still, there were other questions he was hoping the elder Forsaken would answer, as he didn't expect much from the two others in this respect. "If not the People, then what about the spirits? Which spirit courts dominate Lyon? How are they disposed towards these invaders? Wrathful, terrified, collaborating, indifferent? Help from the Shadow could make all the difference. Speaking of the Shadow. Where are the Loci in and around Lyons? We might need them if we have to make a quick escape."
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Jan 31, 2015 17:27
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Fr. Marilac "A minimal occupation force?", Fr. Marillac asks incredulously. "Lyon is one of the major German garrisons in the east., and the Gestapo is nothing to be sneered at. If we want to get in there, more than a radio or vehicles, we need papers....some way to seem like we belong there, because any German suspicion and we're undone."
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Jan 31, 2015 17:37
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Felipe Guimarães Felipe nods at Marilac. "True, I didn't think of that important detail. Thankfully we do have people that speak german fluently among us..." When Markus talks about receiving help from the Shadow Realm, the young Ghost Wolf furrows his brows with obvious confusion in his face. "Wait...what? Getting help from spirits? The same spirits we hunt regularly and kick them out or destroy them? Why would they help us? Don't they absolutely hate our kind?"
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Jan 31, 2015 18:11
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Eleanor Mercer Eleanor looks at Felipe, observing the young Ghost Wolf for a moment. This is what he gave up when he chose not to join a tribe. So much knowledge he could've had... "Not all spirits are violent and hateful, Felipe. If respected, and treated properly, they may be parleyed with and even called upon for aid. Which is why I'm here. If we find ourselves in need of help from the Shadow, I'll do my best to find and negotiate with those spirits whose generosity we can depend on." Wahad fucked around with this message at 18:43 on Jan 31, 2015 |
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Jan 31, 2015 18:20
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Felipe Guimarães "Hmph... never had non-violent encounters with them myself..." The Ghost Wolf thinks back to his time in London, where the packs would ask for his help in destroying them. With this great strength and gifts focusing on exactly that he was a great asset. However, did these packs only use him as a weapon and not call him when more subtle interactions with spirits were necessary? Felipe didn't know what to think of that. Not that he particularly cared, he enjoyed pushing his forms to the limit when destroying vicious spirits.
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Jan 31, 2015 18:38
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Markus Mann Markus speaks up as well, a faint smile on his face. "Depends what you mean with 'your kind', Felipe. Spirits dislike you because you do those things to them on Luna's orders. We Pure don't do that. Most spirits are a natural thing, and with a very few exceptions, we don't interfere with them. Now is probably not the best time to tell you about alternatives, so we can talk later. But don't let anyone tell you that you don't have a choice in the matter. And she does not lie in that some spirits might be helpful even to Forsaken. If properly treated. The fact that we are working together might also give the spirits pause about the importance of what is happening. Hopefully" He then looks more serious. "And yes, it's my native language. I might even know a few people among the Germans in the city here and there. Nobody too high placed most likely, but I might learn a thing or two once inside"
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Jan 31, 2015 18:45
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Christoph Baumhauer "Ich war mit der prussian linie in frankreich..." His command of the german tongue was, to those who could tell, faulty and slow for a conversation, and to those who couldn't it still sounded stilted and off, muddled by some indiscernible accent. At the very least it didn't sound French. "If it is needed I may leverage a common history with them, but the past seems so narrow in the minds of this new empire." The back and forth on the nature of the spiritual landscape drew the gulf of knowledge even clearer between this new found pack. Were many cursed souls as blind to the nature of their affliction as he was? What purpose could such unknowing charges serve to this bewildering natural order? A grand design weaved by the ignorant seldom held good intentions. Never the less, the question of the moment held, and between the saxon and the pure, the better part of an explanation was forming. "Aye they are of nature. They are nature's life, but must be treated so. You tend the crops what bear good fruit. Trim the chaff and pluck the weeds. Do this in respect of your land, not of the spirits that dwell in it. I feel we may do the same if we wish to fight in a favorable garden."
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Jan 31, 2015 19:14
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Even though the mage and vampire try to answer their questions, Nystiael shushes them with a thump of her staff to their chests and a glare, watching the interactions between the Ghost Wolf and the Pure. After a moment, she speaks. "He is correct. We, the Forsaken, the Urdaga in the old tongue, ended the life of Old Father Wolf in times forgotten. For our crime, the moon forsake us, and we took it upon ourselves to continue Father Wolf's work of keeping the spirits within the Shadow World, policing them and keeping balance within the world. Five wolf spirits, the sons of Father Wolf who were loyal to Father Wolf, each embodying a phase of the moon, took to our cause, lending their strength. " She gestures towards Markus. "His people, those we call the Pure, or Anshega, took no part in the killing of Father Wolf in his old age. They do not police the spirits, and follow the last three of Father Wolf's children, those who are bitter and angry at their father's death." She looks Felipe over and sighs. "Lyon, before all of this, was home to many spirits, and a pack of Iron Masters claimed it as their territory. Spirits of the vineyards, drunken revelry, the sea, and fishing made it their home, but strongest were the spirits of Pride and Money, and through it all, they have grown only stronger." The old shaman pauses for a moment, looking to the sky. She uses her staff to draw the head of a lion in the dirt. "Before the Eagle sends his agents, Lyon held much pride, for its vineyards, its culture, its people, and for its position in all things money for France." Near it, she draws the symbol of Nazi Germany, making short lines towards the Lion's head. "When the Eagle's minions came, they too brought great pride, but of a darker sort. But the spirits do not care for where the emotions come, only that the emotions grow. And with the occupation.." She draws a fairly bad caricature of Felicity, who harrumphs. ".. came the resistance, whose pride for their country and their city only added to Pride's strength." She looks back at the gathered pack and leans on her staff. "As it is now, Pride rules over the city of Lyon. Not far behind are the spirits of Greed and Money, who work hand in hand. Spirits of oppression, despair, hatred, and war wage against the spirits of freedom, hope, fellowship, and peace, and the other spirits that made Lyon their home. I imagine the spirits of death will be powerful as well, as with the Eagle and the Resistance making the city a staging ground for a fight of ideals, the spirits will only grow in power; I expect there to be many spirit-ridden and spirit-urged, but I do not know if there will be even a spirit-claimed amongst them. Pride will not care about the newest spirits, for he has seen them before and held his head high through their visits, and he may be able to aid you, but the oldest ones will be terrified and annoyed, as these 'new' spirits are spirits the city has seen bfore. We know not what happened to the Iron Masters there, but as for the Loci of the city? There are likely to be several." She nods towards Mortimer, who takes a moment to realize it's his turn to talk. "Er, right, we talked about this before they arrived.. ah, you see, historically, Lyon has seen much in the way of rebellion, occupation, martyrdom, and trade. Rome itself said the city was central to all of its trading, so I believe one of your 'loci' may be strongest at the very heart of the city, where it was originally founded. The bank would be one, I imagine, as would be the site near the southern vineyards where Christians were slaughtered and those who opposed the French Revolution were put to death." He shrugs. "But, er, yes, Johann is one of the kindred. We know very little about him except the information he's fed us during his captivity HAS helped the war effort against the Germans." Felicity speaks now, interrupting the wizard. "You speak of magical travel into the city, but there are more mundane methods. There are many secret passages that will take us into and out of the city; it is the only way we could get refugees in and out of the city into Switzerland." I think I hit all the questions but if I missed any hit 'em up again.
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Jan 31, 2015 19:51
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Eleanor Mercer She snarls at Markus as he tries to worm his way into Felipe's mind. She doesn't like how it makes her face look ugly, but she can't help it. It's instinctive. She's about to retort, but Nystiael speaks again, and she goes quiet out of reverence for the elder. The words trouble her. A pack from her tribe, but no word from them. Spirits raging out of control, fed by nothing but war and decay. For the first time since she accepted this call to hunt, she realizes that no quarter will be given. No mercy for the weak - no pity for the afraid. Such is the nature of this world and the nature of war. "A tempest it is, then. Perhaps, while we're there, I might find news of my tribe-kin's fate," she muses quietly, "but if there's nothing else you can give us, Madam, then we should be on our way."
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Jan 31, 2015 20:34
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Fr. Marilac "Indeed, we should. And, I think the past should be put aside for now. The whys and wherefores of the death of Father Wolf is a conversation to have later, not relevant to our mission. As for now,, we go in, get the vampire, and bring him out. Anyone who tries to stop us, be they human or spirit, is our enemy. Anyone who tries to help us, be they human or spirit, is our friend." His eyes dance over the rest of the putative pack, coming to land on Markus. "Agreed?", he asks, staring at the Pure.
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Feb 1, 2015 17:40
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Markus Mann "Agreed." Markus said simply. "But before we go, does this place have a Locus. We're going to need all the resources we can get, and I am not fully stocked up on Essence after my travels. After that, and using whatever weaponry and tools you have available, I'm ready to go."
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Feb 1, 2015 19:44
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Felipe Guimarães Felipe listens carefully to what they all say to him, although a bit confused at the the way Baumhauer says things, but they're all nonetheless helpful to him. The young ghost wolf chooses to stay silent until they're out from the Château.
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Feb 2, 2015 16:39
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Gonna give Socks a chance to check in before we push on, in case he has more questions for our triad, but I'll update by Tuesday evening regardless.
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Feb 2, 2015 23:07
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Christoph Baumhauer I'm otherwise ready to go. On the topic of gear, if anyone wants to borrow a rifle or a shotgun I've got one weapon to spare here at the start.
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Feb 2, 2015 23:15
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For a moment, the trio are silent; the vampire and the mage share a confused look, but Nystiael chuckles, nodding to Markus. "Of course. I had figured you would have need of the locus before you moved on." She motions to the archway behind her. "Deeper into the castle remains a statue of a man, faceless now, but embodying all that the French found noble and prideful in the days of old. I am sure you feel it; it is powerful, and it is old, and it is why we chose this castle for our little tur. Come. I will show you." The old woman lead the pack into the castle itself, navigating around debris and crumbling stone. With each step, the pack can't help but feel the power of the place, something thrumming and sending waves of strength that raise the hackles on the back of their necks. Before long, the shaman has lead them into what was once the foyer of the castle; there, in the center, worn by centuries of ruin, stands a statue of a man who holds his head up high. His arms are crossed upon his chest, and one foot rests on an upraised section of stone, to give the image of conquest. Those who have drawn from a locus before recognize it immediately, but all present can feel its power. "Felipe, was it?" The old woman addresses the Brazilian werewolf, her voice gentle. "You should be the first. Reach forth, and touch the stone. Let the spiritual essence fill you, and strengthen you." She smiles at him and steps back, gesturing for the Ghost Wolf to touch the statue. "Once you are done, we will see you off, and we will pray for your success." You guys are in the presence of a 5-point loci; this fucker has essence to spare. Touching the statue allows you to roll Harmony xd10; for each 8,9, or 10, you gain one point of essence. Your maximum essence is 9 + Primal Urge; for most of you, it'll be 10. I recommend using Invisible Castle or Orokos, since they have scripts to count successes. For Invisible Castle, the script is Xd10.hits(8). Once you guys are done with getting essence, you guys need to also decide HOW you're getting there.  Lyon is 5 hours by vehicle away from where you are now, and is a fair distance away in general. How are you wanting to make it there? Are you walking? Stealing a car? Using your resources (or the Mage/Vampire's) to get a ride? Going by means of sidestepping into the Gauntlet? Going wolf form and hoping no farmers shoot you? Any other poo poo I haven't thought of? Drink your fill then choose how you're travelling, and we'll move on. John Dyne fucked around with this message at 02:33 on Feb 5, 2015 |
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Feb 5, 2015 00:36
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Felipe Guimarães Well the old woman showed herself to be wise enough, he should trust her for now. He glances at the rest of the pack before slowly approaching the statue, right hand raised and eyes closed as if the Loci would shock Felipe. When he finally does it there's nothing at first, but slowly some parts of it starts to fill his body, although less than expected. Essence. Good energies. Things he couldn't put to words. When it's clear the loci will not give anymore, he steps back quickly, but with a grin on his face. "Well that wasn't so bad after all!" Felipe flexes his muscles, pumped up and invigorated by the experience. "Ooooh yeah. Let's give these abominations what for!!" http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/4768560/ +2 Essence! Now I can use my spells right?
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Feb 5, 2015 02:42
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You start with Essence equal to your Humanity, so for most of you one sip should fill you up, since most of you have a maximum Essence of 10 and Humanity of 7 or 8. But yeah, Essence is used for a lot of things. You spend it to activate your Gifts, you use it to automatically use your fetishes if you pass the Harmony roll to do so, you can use it to automatically sidestep into the spirit world at a loci, and you can use it to change into another form without making the roll. It's also used when you take Lethal damage, to heal it. Also, you guys are welcome to form a pack now, and a totem; I was going to bring it up in Lyon, where you'd have more spirits to form a totem with, but if you want to do it sooner, by all means!
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Feb 5, 2015 02:58
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Markus Mann Markus looks at the statue. A powerful locus, that. If this werewolf and her pack held it, they must be rather powerful. As he arrives with Felipe, he speaks up. "I don't know if you've used this before, Felipe. But you'll have felt it. A power within you. Since the moon put her mark on you you, you even gain some of it when you see her face sometimes. We call it Essence. It is... spiritual power. And this is a Locus, a source from which it flows. They are always filled with some kind of... how to say this in English, a taste? A color? Some of them are filled with essence of fire, or fear, or trees or industry. To the spirits, Essence is food. Without it, they slumber or die. To us, it is fuel, it is ammunition, and it is currency. You know your wounds heal quickly. Using essence, bullet wounds that would cripple a human heal in mere seconds, rather than the minutes it would normally take. Changing into another form is normally a slow affair, but by spending essence you can turn into a wolf, or into the war-form in the blink of an eye. Many Gifts the spirits give to us require you to spend essence. And when dealing with spirits, the thing they always thirst for is essence. If treated respectfully, spirits will perform services for essence." "A locus like this is the best place to get it. This one is extremely powerful. They are also the place where we can enter and leave the spirit world without difficult rites. You can get them in some other ways. There are rites to gain more. In... dire straits there are other ways. But while the Forsaken and Pure do not agree on many things, we do agree that those are... wrong. They lessen you. Nu hu uzu eren Do not eat the flesh of man or wolf." [i]Harmony Roll for Essence: 7d10t8 2 Reroll: 1d10t8 1 Reroll again: 1d10t8 0 Three succeses, putting me at 10 Essence. Someone might take the time to do a Hallow Touchstone ritual if that's allowed, so we can take some extra portable essence with us? Also, if the Shaman will let me, Markus will gladly take another sip, since he can go up to 12 And yes. Essence lets you heal 1 lethal wound as a reflexive action (meaning it takes no time at all, and you can do other poo poo) It lets you change to another shape without a roll and as a reflexive action, instead of with a Stamina + Survival + Prima[ Urge roll as an instant action, meaning it's your action for the turn. And it lets you go into the Spirit realm near a locus without a roll as well. Running out of Essence kind of sucks. You get +1 essence for every point of damage you do eating a wolf or human. But eh... yeah, that is a good way to start torpedo-ing your humanity. Killing people is pretty okay for werewolves. Eating them is not./i]
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Feb 5, 2015 03:10
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Fr. Marillac Fr. Marillac bows his head and says a short prayer. "Thus do we commune with the Father of All." Following Felipe and the Pure, he puts his hands on the statue and allows himself to be filled with God's love. "Monsieur Mann is correct in that, at least. There are few greater abominations that eating the flesh of a man or a wolf. Resist it, if you value your soul. If you ever find yourself in need of spiritual healing or Essence, participate in rites and prayer, either alone or with your pack, or trust in Luna. When she is in phase she was when you first Changed, she will gift you with Essence. 7d10.hits(8)=1 Well, God's mild approval, I guess Epicurius fucked around with this message at 03:18 on Feb 5, 2015 |
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Feb 5, 2015 03:11
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Christoph Baumhauer Standing in line until the last, Christoph worms his way over to the standing statue and places his hand over the carved stone, slowly at first. It wasn't unlike the Zandauber in his home, the ages old Sycamore tree that invariably drew the chamois and ibex he hunted to it's base, but this statue was bursting with the energy. Warmer, fiercer, almost human in it's graces, charged by the old empires no doubt. It filled him quickly with a burning zeal, and he'd draw away quickly, unused to the generous reverberation of essense. Locus; Essence Gain: 7d10h8 2 Also, orokos will accept reroll rules with the syntax #d10o#h# Where o is the Reroll number (10 usually) and h is the lower target ranger (8 usually) As for how we get there, it looks like we could probably hike to Montpellier and grab a vehicle from there, since the French countryside isn't too bad to hike through, but if everyone wanted to take a shortcut through the Fear and Loathing dimension it might be thematically more interesting.
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Feb 5, 2015 04:52
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Markus Mann Once the group was away from the older Forsaken, Markus spoke up. "Now, another matter. We're going to work together, and as those that do not know have noted, that's not a normal thing for some of us." He gives the two Forsaken a look. "In other circumstances, any other, we would be enemies. And my acceptance to work together is caused by the great need of the moment, not for any acceptance of... what you do." there is an edge of disgust in his voice. "But if the need wasn't great enough to cooperate with you without reservations, it wouldn't be great enough to work together with you at all. We are what we are, and we will not succeed if we are a group of individual werewolves together. Only a Pack stands a chance to succeed." "So, we should be a pack. Does not mean we'll approve each other, or understand each other ,or like each other. But I will fight with you, with word and deed, against other Pure if it comes down to it. And I'll expect the same from you if it comes to battle against the Forsaken." "More practically, we should get a vehicle. They said this Johann of thiers will be executed when he's told them all they expect to learn fro him. We cannot waste time. Can anyone here drive?" Going through the Hisil means we'd have to go on foot, and might still have to deal with people barring our way. I'm going for plan werewolf hijacking and a mad race for Lyon.
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Feb 6, 2015 11:23
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None of you have any points in Driving and this is an era where cars are more complex and fewer people have cars or know how to drive them (especially those native to Europe or older than motor vehicles). So if you guys want to use a car, I'm gonna have a int+dex roll with just two successes to figure out how to start the loving thing. I mean, I'm not gonna stop you guys from using a car, cause it's a good idea, but at least there's gonna be some humor in it when someone floods the engine. 
John Dyne fucked around with this message at 20:34 on Feb 6, 2015 |
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Feb 6, 2015 20:29
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That said we can probably strongarm someone who does drive and has a car/truck into giving us a lift, so unless the mage has some kind of mass teleport spell, that's probably what we're doing.
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Feb 7, 2015 17:25
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Fr. Merrilac "Is it better to form a pack here, or closer to Lyon?", Fr. Merrilac asks. "There is much to be said for making a pack as soon as possible, but it is likely that, near Lyon, there will be a greater variety of spirits to negotiate with."
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Feb 7, 2015 17:49
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Posting for record keeping, for Wahad. To perform the rite of the Hallow Touchstone, you must roll your Harmony in d10's; it takes a total of 40 successes to succeed, transferring three points of Essence into the object you select. Each roll counts for 5 minutes of time. A dramatic failure on any roll loses ALL successes, and the item can't be used for the ritual. If you meditate beforehand with 4+ successes (WoD corebook, p 51) you gain 2 dice to the all rolls. Since you are in front of a powerful locus, you gain +2 dice to the roll. I will say you have the goodwill of the spirits so +1 dice to the roll, and if you do it in Dalu form, +1 dice to the roll. So at bare minimum you are rolling Harmony +3, with a maximum of Harmony +6. You will need an item that is harmonic to the statue, such as a piece of stone from the castle. Go ahead and do all the rolls at once as one post, and stop if you get a dramatic failure; a normal failure just lengthens the ritual but adds no successes. If you get 45+ successes, the stone stores 5 essence.
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Feb 8, 2015 21:15
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Eleanor Mercer "I agree to the need for swiftness, but I would rather be prepared than head in heedlessly. To that end, I vote for the forming of a pack here, rather than in Lyon. If Madam's words ring true about the nature of the spirits there, I think our chances are greater to find a willing spirit here. Furthermore, I will need a few hours to prepare a touchstone, so that we may have some Essence with us in our journey. Better to have it and not need it than otherwise. So be silent, all of you, or else get out. I need to concentrate." With that terse message, Eleanor sits down in front of the statue, gazing up reverently as she gathers her own Essence from the locus first. Then, she sinks into silent contemplation, clearing her mind from the distractions and worries so that she may properly commune and infuse an object with the locus' power. Time passes without heeding the call to urgency, but nevertheless it takes her a while to get to the appropriate state of mind. The burden of her duty weighs heavily on her, and distracts her even without all the complications that had presented themselves. But after about an hour, her eyes open once again, tranquil and watchful, gazing up at the statue with respect. Then, without another second, her head twitches to the side and her form shifts. The already stark lines in her face become harsh and her eyes take on an animalistic fury as she lets her human side slip, just a little, and takes on the form of Dalu. Everything becomes sharper, clearer and the Ithaeur already feels more at ease. With her now-strengthened hands, she picks up a piece of marble from the floor, a finger-tip that has broken off from the statue thanks to the teeth of time. It will serve well as a touchstone, close to the locus as it is. And the rite begins. Despite her preparation, and the spirits' willingness, the ritual is an arduous task. Never one do to things in a rush, Eleanor takes great care to perform the steps of the rite exactly as she had been taught, and after what to the others must have been an hour of eternity, she completes the last step, and carefully stores the piece of marble in a pouch on her belt. "It is done," she growls, mid-way through her shift back to the more travel-appropriate Hishu form, "so we now have an emergency supply of Essence, should we require it." Essence gathering at 7d10=1 success. Hallow Touchstone Rite: - Meditation 1: for 6d10 at 2 successes. - Meditation 2: for 6d10 at 2 more successes for a total of four. - Spending 1 point of Essence to shift to Dalu Form. Roll 1 for 12d10 at 3 successes. Roll 2 at 2 successes. Roll 3 at 4 successes. Roll 4 at 5 successes. Roll 5 at 4 successes. Roll 6 at 6 successes. Roll 7 at 3 successes. Roll 8 at 6 successes. Roll 9 at 2 successes. Roll 10 at 3 successes. Roll 11 at 5 successes. Total of 43 successes. The Touchstone stores 3 essence. Shift back to Hishu and let's get on with it.
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Feb 8, 2015 22:27
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Since the plan seems to be 'make someone not a werewolf drive' I'll go ahead and write an update with that in mind and send you chaps to Lyon!
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Feb 12, 2015 05:48
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