Hróðvitnir

[SK Wynter]

((OOC: Unless you are familiar with the Old World of Darkness and, more specifically, [i]Werewolf: The Apocalypse[/i], this tale may not make sense to you. Invite-only topic; PM to arrange stepping in. OOC commentary welcome.))
[hr][b]

It tore upon the unwary traveller[/b] with a fury ne'er seen in a natural wolf. The clumsy, bulky build of a dire wolf moved with expert grace, massive maw snapping. Trains of blood swung, stuck to both bottom and upper jaw as blood mingled. Holding the shoulders with bear-like paws, the unnaturally bulky beast tore at the screaming hunter's neck. His screams went higher, swimming across the white ocean of a plain, dancing on the winds in lazy curls. Then came the wolf's snarl, harsh and on high, the bestial roar a warning to the hunter's kin. All went silent as sufficient flesh was butchered, the killer of things dead, struck down by a higher peg.

Panting and porky, the bulky wolf backed away from the corpse, shaking a great and claret-stained head. With a huff that made plumes rise from its nose, the creature let its fury calm, the tempestuous hate of man in its blood soothed by the death of one. A woman-trapper might have had less of a fate; to the monster, it was the male, the he, the boy that was responsible. In the hunter-gatherer society of humanity, man-human killed the game. Eliminating that role was as simple as tearing out a wayward man's neck.

With his blood staining the pure white snow, the Garou turned and went. Her dark fur made a shadow on the plain, lost in a blowing of flurries as a blizzard came to settle in. The man's body would freeze, his flesh hardened like rock, and the scavengers and worms would not dig into his body until spring. A bear, perhaps, but nothing of lesser strength. Man's flesh was not worth eating; it would taint her soul with the influence of the Wyrm, with a primitive savagery that, for the hispo-formed wolf, would be beneath even a beast such as her. Only the tainted that had danced the Spiral would think of such an unnatural, ungodly thing.

If his kind were smart, they'd take notice of his disappearance. Those of the Black Fury tribe were not kind to the constant hunters of XY inheritance stomping all over their hunting grounds. He was merely the fourth in a string of justices served; brutal, but necessary business. With places such as Antarctica deprived of the Wyld, Gaia needed as much deep, untouched wilderness as she could get.

Edited December 25, 2010 by SK Wynter

[Maelstrom Vortex]

A voice spoke in the midst of the peak of darkness as the Lunar Eclipse veiled the moon of the Winter Solstice. It wasn't a voice of sound though it was in her head.

[i]"Silly Garou. Do you really think there is any hope left for this world? After desolation upon desolation has wracked her, I am amazed she has not already surrendered to the inevitability of her coming demise as nation and man turn upon themselves in the pursuit of a most futile and pointless oblivion. You must be one of very few of your kin remaining beneath these blood red skys.."[/i] The voice was as a serpents, hissing.. and yet a low rumbling thunder as if from the distance.

[SK Wynter]

The Fury had heard many things in her lifetime. Snarling things, snapping things, growling things and wriggling things, to name a few. Blessed with the gift of stepping sideways through her reflection, she was familiar with the voices of the spirits as well. No Theurge was she, but an Ahroun was supposed to know who her enemies were and where. In her wanderings, her self-imposed loneliness and Ronin-hood, she had picked up a few things on matters concerning the Umbra. When that hissing, rumbling voice echoed in her head, the hispo-Garou raised it high, locking eyes with the eclipsing moon.

<[i]Get on with it, spirit,[/i]> snarled the Fury in Garou. Concentrating for a few minutes, her hackles rose as the air curdled with Wyrm-taint. <[i]I have places to watch and creatures to scout out. You're not the first thing of Wyrm-stink to try and pick my brain.[/i]>

She shook her head, the winds picking up beneath the charged solstice moon. The air was rife with energy shifting; there had not been such an event in almost four hundred years. As the sole protector of that patch of deep wilderness, the small and weak caern within her ward by honour, the Ahroun was on high alert that night. The Umbra shifted and sang with the phasing moon, the gnosis of the land crackling beneath her paws and tingling in every taken breath. Spirits, deafening, were rising up and crying out, making themselves known from past, present and future. So far, there had only been the odd, dead animal crossing over, and a few weaker beings of the Wyld that had floated on over. The next chance she got, the Fury was going to step sideways again and see what was thundering about in her brain. The [i]last thing[/i] she needed was some stinking Bane fouling up her territory.

[hr]

Edited December 25, 2010 by SK Wynter

[Maelstrom Vortex]

To call it a Bane may be an understatement. To those who follow Gaia he might have been known as the blight of Asia at one time. A man that in his lifetime had modified himself with the genetics of many creatures.. leader of a nation that covered near half of the planet.. leader of a cult of followers who thought him a living god.. and even nuked himself out of physical existence at the South Pole nearly doing irreparable damage to Gaia. He took the form of a Dragon in the Umbra.. one wracked by the Wyrm. A spirit in many tatters.. a wing shorn.. a tail missing.. a testament to his "incompleteness". Bound by chains that extended and vanished into darkness.. a part of something now even larger than he causing him to be something between a living and a dead spirit.

"There are few of you able to converse with me still. Yet you are here.. in my back yard.. in my Asia. You should give up. Gaia has no hope. They will destroy her as I nearly did at many points. Now is a time I could reach you with great ease.. and so I have taken the opportunity to attempt to awaken you to the fact your resistance to these changes is essentially.. futile."

Edited December 25, 2010 by Maelstrom Vortex

[SK Wynter]

The foul-smelling spirit still lingered, claiming Asia as his. The Ahroun snorted, growling amusedly in lieu of a human chuckle. With a snort as she ascended a hill, she said, <[i]I've often been told this. You know, if the Wyrm is running out of insults, he might want to try improving his minions instead. What are you going to throw at me next? "Your mother is a Black Spiral Dancer?" Please. You're [b]dead[/b]. You lost, Blight of Asia, and so did the Weaver and the Wyrm when you died. You can't even keep a cult running.[/i]> Her eyes surveyed the frigid landscape, amber and fierce, her dark pelt making her invisible against the sky.

<[i]I've been in your backyard a loooong time. Pike off, you sonuva[s]~~~~[/s]. Go floss the Wyrm's teeth or something. As soon as this eclipse is over, you'll wink off Gaia and get stuck in the Umbra again. They always do.[/i]>

Her large, bloody paws left deep indents in the snow, great trails made as she dragged her feet. Other than the hunter at the western end of her territory, all seemed peaceful in the hunting grounds. The spirit who harassed the Fury would disappear soon enough; he only communicated thanks to the lunar phenomena that night. It wasn't like she was some Silent Strider who had forgot to cut his ties with the Umbra after a bad trip.

[Maelstrom Vortex]

"That is where you are not exactly correct. I still live here as long as my ideals survive me.. and they do.. in strength. They have taken the form of my new masters here and the form of others I have inspired. And as long as that is true.. you.. and that which you guard.. shall never.. be.. safe.." It grinned darkly, the putrid smell of sulfur dripped from his jaws. "I no longer need the cult. Distantly, across the Tellurian, is a time and place where I succeeded. I have abandoned this world.. to its rot. Unfortunately, that world too fell to tatters. I lost the desire to bother succeeding or even administering it. You will experince this as well in time. It is... as I said, inevitable."

edit: Mild corrections, post complete.

Edited December 25, 2010 by Maelstrom Vortex

[SK Wynter]

<[i]Inevitable shminevitable,[/i]> growled the Fury. <[i]Your a Bane-thing who gave up and died in Wyrm juice. Gaia rots [b]slowly[/b], if you haven't noticed. You humans will kill yourselves off eventually, what with your nukes that shrivel up all the innards you need to multiply. I'm just waiting for that time. Nope, I've got my own slice of Gaia right here, right now, which proves you're just a sulphur-breathing [s]~~~~[/s]head with too much time on his-slash-its hands. You done yet?[/i]>

The eclipse began to lighten as a bite of the moon glowed. The Fury looked up at the midnight expanse, a toothy grin on her maw. <[i]Well well well, it looks like the Gauntlet's thickening again,[/i]> she said smugly. <[i]I betcha you won't be around much longer. You sound weak and wheezy already, you old coot.[/i]> She continued down the hill after giving a sniff; somewhere not too far, a stag had laid down and drawn his final breath. She licked her lips; venison was the Ahroun's favourite. If she made good time, it would still be fresh.

<[i]Git back to the Abyss. Go on, shoo! You have no power here, not anymore. You can laugh at me all you want, but in the end, you still suck, Wyrmsucker.[/i]>

[Maelstrom Vortex]

"Just like the rest of the world.. deceiving themselves into thinking I continue to hold no real power..." It began to laugh as it faded. and kept laughing until it faded completely.. like a mad man wasting away back to their oblivion. "Never thought a Garou would think so much like a human..." It said lastly as it completely vanished.

Was what the Garou had stated truth.. of was he playing along to her assumptions?

edit: Final cut.

Edited December 25, 2010 by Maelstrom Vortex

[SK Wynter]

<[i]Pfft. Yeah, whatever.[/i]>

As the Bane or whatever kind of Wyrmish beast it was faded away, the Fury eye-rolled. Again, a spirit taking a pot-shot at the living, and again, failing miserably. She was too hardened, too fierce, too proud to let a festering being like he/it get to her. The hispo-Garou plodded along, feeling quite proud of herself for telling of the bane. [i]::That'll show 'em,::[/i] she thought, again in Garou. Her mouth wet further at the thought of sinking her fangs into the rich, musky juices of dead stag.

[hr]

[i]:: Ah...dinner is served. ::[/i] The Ahroun licked her lips, grinning as wolves do as she plodded towards the carcass. Nothing was more satisfying then a free meal after kicking human and Wyrm tail, oh yes indeed. Even in the dark, she could see the grizzled pelt of an ancient beast, its purpose long done in the world, death giving it final use. Taking a whiff of her find, the Black Fury opened her jaws, baring massive fangs that would make a regular wolf quiver in terror.

She paused, however, when she noticed the faint bubbles of saliva upon its slightly-opened lips. Peering closer, she took a step, giving a sniff of the deer's mouth. Something was off about the juices its maw was secreting. [i]:: What the.... ::[/i]

She placed a faux-bear paw upon the animal's head. Pushing it gently into the increasing moonlight, stepping out of the way to see better, the spit looked yellowish. A quick sniff revealed what smelt like an abscess; funny she hadn't caught its scent before. A sick animal always revealed its presence on the wind. If it didn't, creatures such as the Fury would be without a way to find creatures stricken with ailments such as rabies. Peering closer, the Ahroun tilted her head to get a better angle of viewing.

[i][b]KSSSSSSSSHHHHHTTTTTTTT!![/b][/i]

[i][b]:: WHAT THE F — ::[/b][/i]

The Fury leapt back as the stag rose to its feet, mouth foaming and body crackling with energy, swinging haphazardly to and fro. It snorted, giving sickly gurgles as its legs shook like pines in the wind. A horrible, greenish snot dripped from its nostrils, eyes running with some sort of translucent, lime-y fluid. It roared, pawing at the snow, the virgin white hissing angrily with Wyrm-juices as the Wyrm-tainted stag bellowed.

Blinking, the Ahroun suddenly snarled, bristling and taking a jump back. [i]:: Well...[s]~~~~[/s]. ::[/i]

[hr]
((OOC: Maelstrom Vortex, feel free to take control of the Wyrm-stag. I specifically put him there for your use.))

Edited December 25, 2010 by SK Wynter

[Maelstrom Vortex]

The stag charged the Garou. Not only was it sickly, making it dangerous to be about or even to ingest, it had the full intent to impale the Garou on its horns. It charged at her at the full pace its current state of being would permit, horns lowered for the impact.

Meanwhile..

In the Umbra.. the spirit moved towards the Caern. Perhaps with the intent to taint it as well. The wyrm-stag serving well as a distraction from the Garou's primary duty.

[SK Wynter]

She dove to the left, narrowing avoiding contact with the fluids about the stag's face, as well as its impressive rack of horns. Tail and ears raised in dominance, the Ahroun had no intent to flee her hunting grounds. The stag was the result of another Wyrm-beast sneaking in during a weak point in the Gauntlet, seeking world domination and yada-yada-yada. Unfortunately, with how much crap the thing's face was leaking, getting any bodily fluids on herself would be a bad idea. The poor creature had probably ingested Wyrm-tainted foliage without knowing.

Like a cattle dog about its steers, the Garou tried to circle and snap at her attacker's heels. The best thing the Ahroun could do was lead it out of her territory, and hopefully, get it to hurt itself. Mind one, nothing short of impalement could stop a raging Wyrm-beast, but the stag looked to be of a particularly weak sort. Her great paws clawed at the ground, the hispo-Garou charging like a bull, snapping and snarling in a vicious dance.

<[i]COME AND GET SOME, WYRMSUCKER!![/i]>

[hr]

It was obvious in the Umbra that the caern was weak. One Garou could not sustain a caern alone; try as she might, the Fury could not fill every role of a moot, nor always remember what was needed of the caern. The aura around it was weak, wavering, straddling the border of defilement and sacredness. Yet, even as the Wyrm's servant approached, it pulsed in revulsion, and a whinny could be heard across the Umbral landscape.

A light shone from the cavern, the scream of an angered mare ringing out like a bell. Came then the thunder of hoofsteps, the snort of a racing horse, the flapping of great white wings. In a flash of mane, tail and feathers, the caern's guardian charged out — a translucent spirit in the form of a pegasus, a totem of respect. For the Bane would see — as the proud beast reared up in sense defence, shining with Helios's brightness — he was before a caern in the name of Honour. It was dedicated to giving the Garou a sense of purpose, Gaia's way of telling them that they had a role to remember and play in the world.

And as such, the filly of Pegasus standing before the bane would not let him charge closer. With a squeal, she ran forward, rearing up again and aiming her hooves to lash out.

[hr]

Edited December 27, 2010 by SK Wynter

[Maelstrom Vortex]

As the garou went for the stag's ankles.. it bucked and kicked.. if it would not gore her, it would do its best to slam her bones with its hoofs. It did this, all the while staggering about with her teeth deep in its ankles and shin on the left leg. In due time, as it kicked, one of its legs broke under the force of her weight and it fell to the ground, continuing to thrash at her with its forelimbs.

[hr]

As the horse did protest.. the corrupted wyrm bane full of its taint brought the claws of its spirit form high into the nights sky seeming to bring down the very blood from the moon as its claws moved to slash at the braying caern spirit. It aimed at the throat of the creature, aware that while it was more likely to miss.. a proper stroke would be far more disruptive to its presence. It danced with the spirit, keeping at a distance away to prevent being struck from its hooves while lashing out at it with the reach of its arms. In parallel to its presence, in the physical reality.. a storm approached from the west.. carrying the industrial fumes and acridness of the factories of Eurasia. This from an industrial base built up and strengthened over the years by a line of aggressive Slavs and Nordic descendants to power their wars.

[hr]

Edited December 27, 2010 by Maelstrom Vortex

[SK Wynter]

With ease of practice the Fury wove, the stag's legs nothing more than weave poles to her. Her massive hispo from was put to good use, body-slamming the stag with all its might as its owner snarled angrily. As the shadow over the moon slowly drew back, the winds of the oncoming snow storm continuing to pick up, the Garou was bold enough to give bloodless nips. She would hold on and back away, hold on and back away, disorienting the stag further.

But that didn't mean she didn't take hits; as time wore on, she grew sloppy. A graze went across one eye, not damaging it, but leaving a stinging scratch. A few more hits left painful bruises beneath the Garou's coat. With a growl of annoyance, the Garou lunged, grabbing on to one leg in another bloodless bite. Her body whammed into the stag as she did, enough so that the Wyrm-slave was thrown onto its side. Seeing her chance, she jerked hard at an angle, and the spindly leg broke with a snap. Jumping back, getting a kick in the jaw as she did, the Garou snarled and waited for the stag's next move.

[hr]

The scream of the wind mingled with the scream of Pegasus's filly. With a dodge of the Bane's great swipe, she circled around in a flap of her wings, grabbing in a bite at the wispy membrane of one of the corrupted spirit's wings. To him, it would burn as she wrenched and pulled back, taking a small piece of wing with her if she succeeded. Where the wound was, wisps of light crawled up in a vein-like pattern, the very essence of the pure spirit sizzling away at the corrupted wing.

Leaving the stinging wound to distract him, the filly would charge with a great bellow, rearing up and aiming her hooves for his neck.

[Maelstrom Vortex]

Mad with the Wyrm it attempted to hobble to 3 legs! Once again it charged her.. determined to do serious damage, but only managing a fumbling gait. It crashed into her futilely, effectively now a creature begging to simply be put out of its wyrm tainted misery.
[hr]

The scream of the wind mingled with the scream of Pegasus's filly. With a dodge of the Bane's great swipe, she circled around in a flap of her wings, grabbing in a bite at the wispy membrane of one of the corrupted spirit's wings. To him, it would burn as she wrenched and pulled back, taking a small piece of wing with her if she succeeded. Where the wound was, wisps of light crawled up in a vein-like pattern, the very essence of the pure spirit sizzling away at the corrupted wing.

Leaving the stinging wound to distract him, the filly would charge with a great bellow, rearing up and aiming her hooves for his neck.

He was very careful not to get kicked by the filly. His wing stung like it were on fire. Backing up as it came forward. Any other wyrm tainted spirit might well of given up and fled at the filly's determination. Not this one though. He pulled back and spewed nauseating acrid wyrm taint from his jaws at the spirit which was kicking straight towards his muzzle and neck. His breath weapon was little more than pure filth.. an utter blasphemy to Gaia which oozed and almost glowed green as if it remained radioactive even in the spirit realms.
[hr]

[SK Wynter]

The Fury moved deftly to the side, attempting to dodge the oncoming stag. Unfortunately, the stag tipped in that direction at the last moment, and the Fury had to roll over to avoid its crashing head. One of its prongs caught her along the scratched side of her face, leaving another mark that made her wince. The stag kicked out futilely, bellowing in pain, crying out for the death it had been yanked back from. She locked her eyes with its pained own.

<[i]Sorry your afterlife's gonna suck, pally....[/i]>

Trying her best to avoid its swinging horns, the hispo-Garou ran over to its side. Her paws slammed down on its neck, trying to hold the writhing part in place. Grabbing it by one antler, she gave a great pull back, wrenching its neck back and forth in an attempt to make it snap.

[hr]

The filly tried to dodge, but the putrid, radioactive breath of the long-dead Bane curled around one wing. She screamed an ungodly scream, something between a woman's and a horse's, rolling furiously on the ground as balefire devoured the pristine, translucent feathers. The sludge in his breath, the Wyrm-infested opposite of water, sunk into her spiritual veins and crawled upwards. She foamed at the mouth, stricken with something beyond a mere Wyrm-curse. It felt like the dragon was tearing into her himself, trying to fit his massive bulk inside of her wing and wear her skin while she still moved.

[Maelstrom Vortex]

With a sickening crack the buck died. It laid there as little more than a limp pool of mess.

[HR]

"That's right.. this Garou can guard a Caern of my own." He chuckled darkly. He continued to spew.. advancing on the filly. Hoping to overwhelm it in short order as he advanced on the Caern. He had not noticed the Garou had finished with his.. distraction.

Edited December 27, 2010 by Maelstrom Vortex

[SK Wynter]

The Black Fury backed up as more fluids began to leak out of the corpse. Wriggling, squealing lines of silverish-green, looking like a mass of writhing maggots, hissed and died as their bodies became green smoke. Nearly gagging, the Ahroun turned herself around, shaking her head to try and clear the smell out of her nose. Until she was several metres away, the Garou would turn her head, eyeing the corpse of the stag warily.

Seeing and smelling nothing other than Wyrm-taint leaving the world, the Black Fury began to lope at a fast trot. With the appearance of the Wyrm-beast, not checking on the caern would be stupid. The Gauntlet was thin already around that sacred place; on this eclipsing night, the barrier would be almost as thin as the caerns of legend's were.

[hr]

The filly writhed and screamed, further consumed by the radioactive sludge-fire that spewed from the Bane's mouth. However, despite her pain, despite the fact she was close to withering away into nothingness, she held fast. Standing on shaky legs, her body burning, glowing eyes fading, she charged. With all her might, she glowed as full Luna would, slamming with her shoulder into the side of the dragon. She tried to rise up, aiming another strike at his head.

[Maelstrom Vortex]

He was thrown off balance from the charge... sent toppling to the side. Both fortunately and unfortunately, this removed his head from being close to her for an easy strike. The unfortunate part for him being his head smacking against the murky and ubiquitous floor of the Umbral plane. For a momment, he was off guard as he cleared his senses of the jarring collision.

Edited December 27, 2010 by Maelstrom Vortex

[SK Wynter]

This was her chance as the balefire consumed her, its roiling, creeping essence threatening to throw her into the thrall of the Wyrm. What remained of her uncorrupted body glowed brightest, a shriek filling the air and trailing off into the wind. Her hooves came down, bathed in what seemed to be concentrated light, aimed for the body of the dragon.

[hr]

From beyond the Umbra and into the mortal realm, a great cry came whistling over the storm. The Garou perked her head up, suddenly unnerved; it sounded like the scream of a pained equine. Then, in her head, it was like something had slammed into her brain, and the Ahroun nearly toppled over onto her face. Around her, the winds picked up, and the light of the moon was almost covered by clouds and whiteout.

A migraine beginning to form, the hispo-Garou charged forward, headed in the direction of her caern. Judging by how the scream sounded, it seemed to have originated from there. A growl was already rising in the Fury's throat at whatever might be there.

[hr]

Light would emanate from the filly's hooves. Surging and lighting up that part of the Umbra, it would consume all Wyrm-taint, infusing it with only the purest and strongest energies of the Wyld the pegasus could summon. The filly looked on sadly, fading away into wisps of dying balefire and rising smoke. She collapsed and disappeared as the last dregs of herself drained away, concentrated into the consuming, binding forces that surrounded and clamped down on the Bane.

[Maelstrom Vortex]

The Dragon hissed as the hooves struck him even as he rolled to dodge them.. again part of his 'flesh' ripped away. The Dragon ran back wards from the light as it stumbled away horribly wounded.. at least it had dealt a possible mortal blow to the Caern guardian. He wasn't going tot take he time to look back.. the white burned him throughout.

As he fled he felt things began to clamp down on him.. he struggled to keep them at bay.. he knew not what change they may bring to him. He only felt that fire.. that white.. hot fire. He thrashed and roared out.. spewing taint vainly against the burst of Wyld energies. Eventually he was overcome and lapsed into unconsciousness.

Edited December 28, 2010 by Maelstrom Vortex

[SK Wynter]

The caern guardian could have easily bested him had there been a better caern for her to inhabit. Instead, out of desperation to save that sacred place of Gaia's, she had been forced to give her own life. Her essence now ripped through him, merciless. Her spitfire and strength was evident in the veins of Wyld-energy that spider-webbed across his sickened scales.

Then, as a Garou ran across a snowy plane, as the moon's phase shifted, as the filly's last thoughts drifted out over the universe, something happened. Desecrated, the caern was to fall, but then the dragon was slowly dragged towards it. As if he were being pulled by rope, the lines of light stretched out and looped around the caern, pulling him with them. Where the pile of stones that marked the caern stood, a hole in the Umbral floor would open, the dragon dragged down into the dark. The floor then covered him up, as if burying a grave, burying a monster.

[Maelstrom Vortex]

For the moment, the bane slept, waiting for events to unfold that might return it to strength.

Edited December 29, 2010 by Maelstrom Vortex

[Maelstrom Vortex]

Time ticked by, the spirit waited restlessly in its cage.

[SK Wynter]

The air reeked of Wyrm-taint as vile as a city's smog. The Fury's paws were raking, shaking, her whole body a-quiver with fear, anger and anticipation. She needed to get back to the caern, the moon ceasing its shine through the snow-white. The Gauntlet had thickened again now that the darkness had passed, and so, before the holy place was a thing of the past, she had to run. Duck. Swerve. The trees and bushes seemed to be in her way as she navigated the thickness of the forest around the caern.

Her entire self, spirit and flesh, felt sick. How, how, [i]how could she[/i]? How could she let down her guard? Banes could be stupid, but the Wyrm could end up picking up a clever one along the way. The Filly could care for herself, yes, but the caern was weak. It was dying, as no lone Ahroun could perform the moots needed to appreciate it, recharge its sacred shields and speak to its spirit in times of its need. Yet, the Black Fury had tried, as it was just not any old caern. It was a caern of Honour, symbolizing all that the Garou had fought for, were fighting for, and would fight for. It was the Fury's reason to live, and she would die with her innards and bones scattered before it was violated.

But it was too late. The clearing's middle was of a great, tall conifer, a stacking of stones beneath its large and fluffy branches. The needles had withered, and the snow was torn up, sludgy and thick with stench in some places. The stones of the caern had darkened, and that airy feeling, that peaceful feeling that surrounded the place, was gone. A battle had raged in another world, its scars tearing deep into the fabric of the one below. The Fury looked on, horrified, her entire body going rigid and cold as ice.

Something within the hispo-Garou snapped. Her eyes widened, everything in her mind burned, and she let out a horrible, terrible, agonizing howl. Her muscles bulged with the fury that gave her tribe its name, and she snarled wickedly, angrily, whirling about with a snap as jolts went through her body. The air shrieked with as much a storm as there was in her soul.

<[i]COME OUT YOU [s]~~~~~~~[/s] FREAK!![/i]> the Garou roared. That dire wolfish shape she held shifted and popped, a body of four legs regressing to one bipedal. The creature was being pulled towards a form better suited for war, and perhaps not coincidentally, fitting of the Full Moon Auspice. <[i]I'LL KILL YOU! [b]I'LL KILL YOU!![/b][/i]>

[Maelstrom Vortex]

It was to no avail.. the Bane was weakened. It was entrapped and hibernating within the stones. It was waiting patiently for something to empower it so that it may once again break free with its strength in tact. The Caern was a prison, both protecting and limiting its inhabitant.