After the Day's Events...

Presumably, people are still around.

Hatchet is barefoot, toasting marshmallows over the charcoal grill. He's shirtless, the burns from the bane-sludge still livid on his skin. He looks thoughtful, maybe a little sad.

*The relatively slender Strider walks up to the vegging CoG.

"Whoa dude, why so pensive? You wanna talk about it? Actually... hang on a sec. If this is going to get *deep*, we're gonna need some herbal relief."

*Ashmoore fumbles around his bag and produces a joint. After lighting, he offers it to B-t-H.

"We making smores?"

Casey heads towards the grill himself, picking up a few bits of litter and wrinkling his nose to the sweet smell of pot smoke. Clearing his throat almost a growling tone, "Can't loiter around too much later boys, not like...," not even finishing the sentence before he finally catches the somber mood and his scowl softens."Ah, what the hell, few more hours shouldn't hurt."

"I don't have any chocolate. Or graham crackers." Hatchet says. "I'm just thinking about Seta. I feel like someone should mourn for him, at least for a little while. It only seems right." Hatchet takes the joint and sniffs it, then lights it on the coals. Puff, puff, pass. "Thanks."

OOC: Not many ppl met me IC exactly but this is Merle from vampire as the player of Greyson. Greyson wears clothing that is pretty well ripped up but still together. While to someone that doesn't understand his clothes might look unkempt or like he is a bum the truth of the matter is they have been in many fights where Greyson just decided to wale on someone or something rather than take the time to shift. His voice is gruff. In homid form he sports a bushy unibrow. He seems to be a bit taller than the average person and his muscles are pretty well toned. When he looks at you his eyes could be burrowing into your soul possibly to see if there is any taint of the worm inside you. He has a very intense stare. When he talkes to you he looks right into your eyes.


Mourn what!, He lived a full life, faught the worm, rose to the title of Alpha. He decided that it was the time to end it with honor and dignity. Don't cry like a child. Keep your head up high. To mourn would be to disrepect him. He lives on in Gaia like we all will some day. If I don't rip the heart out of jormungand and he doesn't devour me, while I rip him up and down from the inside, this is how I will die. With honor.

Hatchet stares right back. "Marshmallow?" He asks, completely belying his expression, which is both plainly annoyed and simmering more than a little bit. He holds it up--it's started to burn--and blows it out. "I mourn for him because I imagine the shame and agony he must have felt before he made the decision to let out his own guts. But I imagine this is one of those impasses where tribal perspectives are different."

Casey sets his bag aside, sitting down with the grill between him and the smokers and shakes his head towards Hatchet. "No, we shouldn't... but if you want to honor his memory and respect his choice, I'll drink to that and join ya. Just blow the smoke the other way."

After a second Hatchet just smiles, all his moroseness dropped. "That sounds alright to me. All I have is water, though--I didn't bring any beer today."

"We will move forward.", Greyson as if to show is further displeasure moves away from Hatchet and sits indian style at the fire staring into it the fire dancing in his blue eyes.

"Gaia's fire burns within us. We use her fire inside of us to fight the worm. She will chose when it is time for us to come back to her or we shall chose when to go back to her. It is honorable to return to Gaia from which we have come" (ooc Greyson says this while staring into the fire)

"I'm not disputing that," Hatchet says, offering Greyson a bottle of clean, cold water, "I was taking a moment to remember that he lived--and that he died in the manner of his choosing, but plainly not the way he wanted to go. And that until he returns, we've lost a great warrior for Gaia."

The glass walker manages a faint smile, "Just as well, have to drive home after... and the wife'll have me on the couch if I drink and drive."

He offers a nod towards Grayson before looking back to his packmate, "Have to agree with the Get by the way, its sad to imagine what Seta went through. Certainly painful seeing what he'd become, but thats the real reason he went through with the rite... washed clean his honor, earned the right to set aside the pains of his body and heart, and gave all of us a chance at a clean start." He shrugs, "I wont lie, I hated him... but now, he did what he had to. So lets remember the man that earned all his glory, that won his scars doing the right thing, and cared for his family."

The smile fades but he bows his head to Grayson, "Well said, and until she sends him back, he'll be missed."

"He is with you. Anything he taught you anything you remember from him is inside you. None of us ever leave this world when we have touched another."

Hatchet pauses. "That is *deep*," He says, moving to sit.

Greyson sits quietly staring into the fire not moving so much as a muscle as if he is such a trained warrior even his muscles only move on direct command.

Casey nods thoughtfully, "Best way to honor him, is to share whats left... and follow at least that example, so we're remembered when our own time comes. Its a shame the only Galliard about wasn't here to know him in his prime, I'm hardly a storyteller to do him justice, but..." he shuts his eyes as he trails off, taking a few deep breaths.

I saw in Iraqi and now I see it here, spilling ones forces is never wise. Cutting one self from allies does not work but leads you to lose. We should have been allowed to stand next to our sept mates and help to the best of our abilities.

*Looking to the red burn marks on Buries-the-Hatchet chest* Hatchet, you need to learn how to be more nimble on you feet. Do you see any marks fro that bane on me?

*Bob MacCoy chest is untouched by the banes toxic waste spray.* I stood right next to it scoring my hits and received none in return, that is the mark of a good warrior. It is to touch his enemy without being hit in return.

*Shakes head at MacCoy*

"Only mark of a Good Warrior: dead enemy.", says Sewer Pipe, uncomfortable talking in Homid, holding up his arm and turning it slowly, so that all can plainly see his scars, legacy of hundreds of scraps, brawls and actual battles, speaking far more eloquently on his [ast of conflict and his opinion on the matter than a dozen Galliard bards. "scars not Bad. Scars good! battle scars and Battle Scars, all warriors have them. Scars give renown because warriors know this. No elder warriors with pretty skin. No Famous Warriors with no scars. First Ahrouns had scars. Mother Larissa have scars. Gaia has Scars, Seta-Rhya had scars. Who say they not fight good?' The big ugly metis looks like he will take any comments to the contrary poorly. 'Scars and dead enemies, warrior's resume. Scars and dead wyrmlings, true warrior legacy. Won't die without scars. Pain fades. Garou dig scars. Glory? Glory lasts forever."

Obviously having said enough, he stands. "too talky. Gonna go. Find wyrmthings, Pick fight. new scar? Honor Seta-Rhya...'s memory ', The third word sounding painful, Sewer-Pipe Two-Words flexes his axe handle broad shoulders and says to Hatchet as he walks away. 'Interested?'

[A crazy looking man with long red hair, a bushy red unibrow, and dirty and somewhat hole ridden pants sits down next to Greyson. As if he had been there for the full conversation, he speaks...]

"Few showed respect and allowed the Alpha to die alone. Few turned from the sight. Few will remember anything but his death now."

Hatchet gets up. "You know I got your back, 'pipe." He grabs his shirt and boots and moves to chase after him.

Casey cracked open an eye staring over at Pipe and clearing his throat, "Glory... fades as fast as a corpse in a dumpster no matter how many scars you gather unless you have the wisdom and honor to back it up. We had a hunt already tonight, unless you can sense the wyrm, name a bane, or scent fomor from human, you're not ready to lead one."

Head twisting quick enough to crack his neck along with the knuckles of a clenching fist as Winds of Vengeance spike up, "And you can shut your mouth Red Talon, if you're going to speak ill of the dead and spit on tradition and ritual."

"I'm not breaking rank, I'm saying it was done wrong. The dying die alone. Not escorted by others. Not worried over. It's how it is done if one wants to respect the dead. I looked away, I showed respect."

"Waitasec, Pipe."

Matt (aka Shields-the-Heart, aka "The guy who struck the wyrmthing first", aka "The Guy Sewerpipe lolpwnt" for those keeping score) is still mulling around, seemingly disinclined to go elsewhere quite yet.

"Our enemies know we're here," he states, making his way back over to the pile of hamburgers. "We've been seen, we've made our first strikes. It's good to have that notch on our belt, but from here I imagine it gets hard. They're probably already forming retaliation for our progress today."

"Do we all have somewhere safe to rest our heads? Are there any of us who need haven?"

Not bothering with the exotic delicacies of bun or condiments, Matt simply takes a bite and starts chewing.

Stares at Winds of Vengeance, not breaking eye contact while pushing himself up to his feet. "That may be how you intend to go... but Seta chose the rite of the winter wolf, and accomplished it as a Garou should. Dont you dare disrepect that choice."

"I'm not... is my english bad? That wasn't done right. The ritual. He is supposed to die alone like a wolf."

Freezes midstep at his Alpha's words, and turns around like he is pulled by an invisible leash and sits back in the spot he rose from. He looks up at Shields while he speaks, gives careful consideration to the implication that he could end up out numbered and out gunned in a battle with banes and fomors, without the benefit of surprise... and grins savagely, his already monstrous countenance throwing shadows that give his ill favored face deeper more menacing shadows. His teeth, yellows stained from nicotine, except the well maintained canids, show overlarge in his mouth and then close over them as he looks again to his Alpha. 'A shame. Sounds fun.'

Casey continues to glare at the red talon, reaching up to slide his glasses down his nose to stare over the top of them as his lips curl in an uncivilized baring of teeth. "Oh no, your English is fine... your judgements at fault. Talk to theurges before you make a claim that a ritual has been done wrong. He was to gut himself on his klaive, dying as a Garou not just as a wolf."

A quiet, but uneven tread signals the arrival of Wishbone, the Bonegnawer theurge. As usual, he's in Lupus; at the moment, he doesn't seem inclined to interject. Instead, he noses at an old egg carton with interest; Gaia only knows what he wants with it. Those who pay any attention to him will get the distinct impression that he's listening, though.

The cub sits silently, close enough to be acceptably involved but far enough to not impose his presence, listening in on the conversation. His face is blank, still looking like he's doing his best to get a grasp of what's going on.

Sewerpipe, at some point I will face a worthy opponent who will give me a scar. I do not intent to shy away from it. I will not make it easy for them to give me one. I plan to do as much damage to the enemies of Gaia, and make it very difficult for them to remove me as a defender of Gaia.

When I gain a scar it will be because I face a worthy opponent. That bane did not look big, Wishbone was that a big bane or are there more powerful ones out there?

Works for food wanders over carrying a few left over hotdogs, a big pot beans... and what appears to be a simple glazed jug. He sits down... looking over the assembled group.... "How Ya'll doin" "A taint of appalachia in his accent.

Left overs and a good Jub after a hot day in the Sun.... *offers the Jug first to Casey* First share of the kill and all he chuckles... but if you be drivin home best just to take a nip this be powerful stuff.

So I've been asking around if'n thar be another story shinner around I couldna roust him out. So anyone wanna share what happened durring the Revel as someone had to stay behind and watch the cubs?

Greyson stands up,

"Well it goes something like this:

(ooc now I don't know everyone's names the people in OWBN Camp Vamp understand I suck at names ooc-ly so you have to add names in my story if you have them)

Greyson starts to sing a Viking Ballad (and of course every time a Viking Balad is sung it does get a little more elaborate... the Monsters do get bigger and the battles harder and longer and the winners more victorious... but hey... what are vikings for?)

At the end of the fight part of the ballad Greyson gives full credit to Gaia for the victory for the Sept, Alpha, and the future Caern.

Wishbone waits until the end of the story before answering Bob's question.

"The bane? Pretty big. There's bigger out there. Lots bigger." He eyes Bob. "Still could've taken a few of us down, Bob. Don't get cocky. I didn't get tagged by the goo either. Doesn't mean I'm a better fighter than Sewer Pipe, there, or Shields-The-Heart."

The lupus sniffs reflectively.

"There'll be enough scars for us all before this is over."

Put off by the obvious hostility for simply stating the obvious, Wind of Vengeance walks over to "wishbone"

Wolfspeech: "Walks with Gaia through the wastes, will you please take me and Duvall to the cubs so that we can start their care?"

"Greyson, do you wish to come?"

Which if you happened to actually miss the whole thing boils down to:

Alpha asks (guy with cane) to have a spirit find a target. Spirit comes and leads war party in hunt. Hunt comes up on a bane spirit? (I think). War party encircles spirit and starts attacking (names of everyone in party with their type of attack bites, claws etc and mentions just how terribly fast the red tallon and get were moving (the two who used the most rage if I remember correctly). The attack of the spirit with corrosive acid shooting attack and the parties retalitory attacks the pitch starts to creshendo when (someone) used (that cool power I have to knock it down where it can't move for 3 rounds) pitch gets higher and louder as the unexpected falled spirit sprays again and the song reaches it's climax as the group takes it down. Greyson names the person who had the killing blow and the victory for the Alpha.

Like I said.. really.. really.. terrible with names.

"No, the first still roars and I'm not worried about their words, it's deeds I watch words are meaningless. And there are ballads to sing of warriors of old!"

Wishbone stretches, working the stiffness out of his mangled back leg.

"I'll take you," he says. "But Winds of Vengeance, there were unusual circumstances. You looked away, so you didn't see. Seta-rhya's fight was not over. He was battling something...some sort of spirit, I think, but one I could not sense. It was needful to be sure he was able to overcome this...influence and die with honor."

He shakes off the dust. "But come. I will take you to the cubs."

[Wind of Vengeance looks at Duvall, and practically barks]
"FOLLOW"
[before heading off after "Wishbone"]

Casey grimaces as the offer of a drink and the singing breaks off any hopes of staring down winds of vengeance and he mutters a mumbled apology to Works-for-Food for turning that furious glance towards him. Taking just a quick sip and coughing at the taste, he hands the bottle back without a word but manages a faint smile as he relaxes again.

Greyson slaps Urban on the back and starts to belt out an eternal ballad of battles against Jörmungandr while they all drink. As they start to imbibe more he encourages the other around the fire to sing of battles they have been a part of or have seen or of "known true" (made up maybe) battles of the past

*accepts the Jug back looks at Casey and then to the departing Red Tallon as he listens to the songs of long ago battles*

So I know we have two Cubs ? Have they been tested have we discovered there Tribes or their Moon Phases yet ????

My Nanna used to say Lost Cubs was like a mystery wrapped in an cute furry bundle. You really couldn always tell what was inside. If they was pure bread enough you could usually guess at the Tribe but unless you had some old calenders and they could tell you when they was born you had to ask the Spirits and see what they was by experimenten.

Come to think of it Points to the Red Full Moon rising in the Sky... mighty pretty red moon out tonight but that aint always a good sign for things t'come. We got alot of work ahead of us to rebuild a Sept to the point we can rebuild a Caern.

*take a big sip from the Jug before passing it around* careful there boys that genuine sippin shine not some tender grapes.

So has anyone informed the Cubs of the troubles ahead of them. How hard it will be to stay in school get an education and heck even to hold a job?

John looks back to the Red Talon with an expression of hesitation. It is not so much one of insolence, but more of concern and doubt. It's broken when he hears, "how hard it will be for the cubs."

He slowly stands, taking a deep breath, then nods to Wind of Vengeance. "Alright, let's go."

Greyson looks around...

"Well they said not to be out too late. I guess I better shove off.

Never forget our warriors..."

Greyson somberly gets up,

"Who's got the fire?"

Casey sighs, staring up to the moon and dusting himself off as he stands. Reaching for a half touched bottle of water to douse the coals on the grill, "Time to hit the road... I know the alpha rented out a hotel for anyone that doesnt have a place to stay for the time being, and anyone that cant stomach that can let me know and I'll see if I can't find a safehouse or two still available."

Picking up the bag of litte,r he moves to drop it off at the pavillion on his way towards his car, starting it by remote and lingering a few moments longer.

Upon hearing news of the Hotel, Matt seems satisfied.

Standing up, Matt does his level best to walk alongside Sewerpipe. Assuming it doesn't earn him an aggressive act, Matt speaks quietly, yet not so quietly as to go completely unheard.

"Can we gather ourselves tomorrow? The Ahroun. There's so much we ought do while the remainder prepare themselves."

Hatchet, in the meantime, is quietly picking up litter and making sure as little as possible is disturbed by the rowdies' presence, once they all leave.

*nods to Shields* Good Idea. Be there. Bells on.

*stands and moves* Gonna go. Find shelter. Not Hotel. Nice night, Sleep outside.

*and shouldering his back pack, he strides off to his alpha, to ask permission to leave.*

Shields gives a nod and a smile.

"Sleep well, I'll see you tomorrow. I think I'll take advantage of the hotel tonight, I don't want to press on my family until I actually have to. Maybe if I'm lucky I'll score a job quickly, I dunno."

"You wouldn't be imposing on me if you wish I have a place of my own", greyson calls back

*Ashmoore has been quiet, smoking this whole time. Reflective, even. As everyone leaves, he rises and turns to Buries-the-Hatchet.

"Catch ya later, bro."

*He follows out Shields-the-Heart. How unlucky can S-T-H be?