1/26/2012 - Caern of Falling Waters - Desperately Seeking Adom...

Once things have calmed down a little bit, Wishbone makes a concerted effort to seek out Adom. There are questions he needs to ask.

Adom is not particularly hard to find, most days in January he can be found with a mop and bucket, working his way through the various water damaged and otherwise trashed rooms of the Caern.

He whistles to himself as he carries a broken dresser to a trash help.

OOC: Part of what I wanted to do and am waiting on Iggy for stuff for is to assign a whole bunch of clean up helpers. *Pulls out of pair of White Gloves and hands them to Adom*

Adom tosses the dresser into the rapidly growing junk heap, wipes his hands on his pants and accepts the gloves.

"Thank you, Works for Food. How is your day?"

Sporting a new Scar along the side of his head
Could be better alot better seems I cant remember much of what happened last night all blur with people running and such. I remember gettin into a fight with Wishbone with some BSD and I figure one of them tried to Jar my head a mite to much ???

So if you will hold on just a minute I think I can find you a whole pack of volunteers to help with the Cleaning and Dusting and such???

Adom smiles and shrugs, "I'm an Elder without a Sept; I am the very definition of unnecessary. Everyone else seems busy, or off fighting, I am only trying to pull my weight around here, no need to make a bother."

You are both an Elder and a Guest of this Sept Adom -Ryha your knowledge and wisdom will prove vital in the comming day and nights. I have at my disposal any number of strong backs in need of work and maybe after words lessons in Rituals and Knowledge they will need latter in life. Besides which this is our Sept now and cleaning it top to bottom might help some of the young ones bond with it in a more meaningful fashion.

Wishbone starts to haul rubble and debris right alongside Adom. There's no real discussion; it seems reflexive. Then again, the Bone Gnawers have been making places to live in the rubble for a long time.

"Your wisdom is more needed now than ever, Adom-rhya." He pauses. "Can we talk safely? Are we alone? It's frustrating, never knowing if someone is watching us from the dark Umbra..."

Adom clucks his tongue, "We are never alone. A thousand dead stand behind every living soul, the spirits of Gaia watch over all and the forces of the Wyrm are always close. We can eliminate at least one of those watchers by stepping across to the Penumbra."

Wishbone nods. "I remember something you said to me, just before you left the last time. Would you be willing to do so? It seems I always have far more questions than answers..."

"You'll have to forgive an old man his terrible memory. Why do we not continue this discussion on the other side? I always find the Umbra to be quite refreshing, it may help clear my head."

Adom pops out of this realm of existence.

Wishbone steps across as well, then waits for Works For Food. Again, pure reflex; the pack's practice of never going anywhere alone probably saved both their lives this past week, and it's not a habit he cares to break, even in the caern.

Follows Adom -Ryha and Wishbone into the Umbra.

Once in the Umbra, Wishbone tilts his head curiously. "He cannot hear you here. That was what you told me before leaving last time. I take it "Here" applies to the Umbra as a whole?"

"Yes, the dead cannot see other worlds than the lands of the quick and the dead."

Wishbone nods. He looks around and sighs. "I'd hoped the Alpha would be here...he needs to hear this. Ashmoore knows some of it, but I'd like him to hear the rest, as well. But we need your guidance on this most of all, Adom-rhya."

He pauses to frame his words. "There's a spirit of the dead who has taken an interest in this sept. A decidedly hostile interest. I'm convinced that we first saw evidence of him the night we came back. Seta-rhya was struggling with some outside force when he tried to perform the Rite of the Winter Wolf. It kept forcing him to step sideways."

He frowns. "Actually, come to think of it...it kept forcing him to step sideways, even when he was in the Umbra. How could it do that, if it can't see into the Umbra?"

"Hmm.. I would need more information to make an educated guess, but most likely the ghost had attuned itself to Seta to such an extent he was always connected to him. There could be other things of course, fetishes and fetters.

"The dead are notoriously difficult to get rid of, of course. Do we know his name, by chance?"

"Know? No. Strongly suspect? Yes. I think...I think that this is the ghost of Walker, the sept's old Rite Master."

Wishbone ticks off the reasons on his claws.

"Seta-rhya's ghost warned me of the existence of this spirit, and called him "the Apostate," the one who betrayed the Sept. I know that Walker was in cahoots with the spirit of High Hat, who called him "brother" and "kin." High Hat said that Walker was dead, but there was something he wasn't saying."

He spreads his hands. "It all seems to add up. Somebody sold the sept out to the Stone Giants, and Walker was apparently kin to them. The thing is, I have no idea what his true name was. I always just knew him as "Walker."

Adoms thinks on it for a moment, " I do not know many of the names you have just spoken. I never met this 'Walker' or 'High Hat', and I have never heard of a 'Stone Giant'. I must admit a bit of ignorance! But a bit of logic, was not a Garou named Walker a member of Seta-rhya's pack when Seta died? I recall Seta talking about his pack a few months before he died. "

Wishbone nods. "He was the Master of Rites at the time. Wasn't all that high a rank, but he was powerful. More powerful'n some Theurges of considerably higher rank." He pauses to think. "As for High Hat and the Stone Giants, that's a long, long story--and it's one none of us know more'n bits of. The Stone Giants are...well, I guess they're what the Fianna call "fey." Been around the Falls for a long time. They got stirred up a while back and went to war against the other fey in the area, and the Sept joined in."

He grimaces, a pained expression. "That was the beginning of the end. Lost six packs fighting them. Damned powerful." He sighs. "I'm no Galliard, I can't tell stories worth a damn. High Hat was...well, I guess sort of a theurge of theirs. Been around for a long time himself. He worked out a trick to avoid the whole "Die, get reborn, start over with no memories" cycle--stores his memories and makes sure they get put into his reincarnation. Thundersnow says he's got treaties with just about every spirit out there, which is why they haven't wiped him out."

He pauses, considering. "Now, we come into this with Uktena. He had a job for us, and for reasons of his own, he turned over High Hat's hat to us--with his memories inside. First thing I found out from him was that Walker was the last wearer of the hat. Now, I don't doubt that he told me some things that were either lies or colored to suit his purposes...but he was calling for Walker when I first picked him up, so I think that part's true."

" Riddles within riddles. Do you still have the... hat... in question? It stands to reason that this object may have the answers you seek. Perhaps a Philadox should do the actual questioning though, so as to ascertain Gaia's own Truth. "

Wishbone's expression turns even more sour at that. "We do, yeah. I was hoping it wouldn't come to that. You know the old joke about having a battle of wits with an unarmed person, right? Every time I talk to him, I feel like the unarmed person. He's smarter, and he's got a hell of a lot more experience. I'm worried about unwittingly letting something slip, or letting him manipulate us into doing what he wants." He sighs. "But it's looking more'n more like we're gonna have to talk to him again. The Maid says he's one of two people who might know the answer to another riddle, and I don't know how to find the other one."

Wishbone scratches his chin. "On the other hand, I'm not sure he knows Walker's still around as a ghost, if it is Walker. He knows he's dead, and he was still calling for him, so...maybe. I just don't want to clue him in if he doesn't know. Handing a spirit this cunning a piece of knowledge is like handing an Ahroun a klaive. And then again, there's the question of how we're going to get him to tell us what we want to know. I've never seen a spirit quite like him before...Weaver, but not-Weaver. I'm not even sure if he can be commanded, and I know it's not going to be easy."

Adom scratches his chin, mirroring Wishbone, " There is an old adage. Two men standing on the road when bandits attacked them. Caught unarmed, the first man decided to fight against impossible odds and was quickly slain. The second man gives the highwayman what he wanted and continues on his way, free to fight another day. There is something to be said for giving into the inevitable, perhaps? This fetish could make a powerful ally...?" He pauses at that, still thinking, " I am making a bold assumption that it does not reek of the Wyrm's evil, or you would have destroyed it already. "

Wishbone shakes his head. "It doesn't...if anything, it smells of the Weaver...but that's not why. Please bear in mind, Adom-rhya, that the Stone Giants were one of the main causes of the Sept's downfall. Thundersnow has told us in no uncertain terms to destroy the hat."

He grimaces.

"The problem is, we have no idea how to do it. The hat's about as close to indestructible as a fetish can come. Short of throwing it in a volcano, we don't have any solid ideas right now--and, of course, there's the question of whether destroying the hat would simply free High Hat's spirit."

"Oddly enough, I don't find myself bearing him personal animosity. But at the same time, I can't forget that most of my friends and kin are dead at the hands of him and his kind. Problem with making a deal with the Devil is, the Devil knows all the loopholes."

Adom thinks for a moment, " Spirits are creatures of diverse motivations, Changelings, if indeed this was connected to a Changeling and not a true Fae, are also inscrutable in their intentions. Why would a Noon-eh-HEY tribe battle fifty Garou? Something important to them, I would think. I wonder if we have that thing still? A chain of suppositions, but perhaps our negotiating position is not as weak as it might be. "

"Damn it Edgar, it was selfish and pointless of you to kill yourself when there was so much we could have learned about what went wrong."

*A sickening thud is heard as the sound-barrier breaks. Some of you might crane your necks to see. You would be the lucky ones. As you squint in the distance a figure zooms closer and closer. A lupus? But this figure is familiar... wait, no... it's... ASHMOORE! You resist the impulse to cheer. The audience of spirits, however, does not. This is a speed unnatural to most but unnaturally home to Ashmoore.

The figure can be seen closing the distance. But wait! he's circling around, as if taking another lap. Meanwhile, his wolf-like features shift and fade. He lifts to two feet and a disheveled youth turns to face you as smoke exhausts from the soles of his shoes as he brakes.*

"Evening 'gents."

*The crowd goes wild. Ashmoore tips his hat toward adoring spirit fans before he pulls out a cigarette and lights up. He saunters over, absentmindedly interrupting the conversation.*

"Just to let you know... he can hear you. And he wanted me to deliver a message. I apologize for being the messenger but, Wishbone is an IDIOT. The Walker that everybody keeps talking about was JOHN Walker, Gangrel fuckup, now dead. It grieves him that you would (a)think he's some worthless Theurge and (b) it's a really stupid mistake that's driving him nuts. Walker the Garou was not the same guy as as John Walker the Vampire. Though he guesses that since they're both dead now it is rather academic."

*Ashmoore takes a drag of the cigarette.*

"Now that that's out. I say we keep calling him Walker. Anything to piss him off a little bit more."

*A cheeky grin spread across Ashmoore's face. He slaps Adom on the shoulder.*

"Don't worry my friend, I got out."

*still quietly listening to the conversation*

If you wished to Examine the Hat for yourself Elder I have it here... *pats his pouch*

Adom laughs uproariously, a strange barking noise, " And in true Ragabash fashion! I am impressed. "

And it should be pointed out that not mere hubris, but Ashmoore does indeed have several spirits of Cunning and Snarkiness here that have showed up to cheer on this moment.

"I know in general terms what they were seeking--an end to the Stone Giants' curse. But what that curse was, and how they intended to end it, I don't know. It seemed to have something to do with the other...Changelings, you called them? As I understood it, they were they target; we just got in the way when we tried to stop the killing."

Ashmoore's comments bring an arched eyebrow. "My being an idiot is hardly news, but could you be a little more specific? When you say "he" can hear us, are you talking about High Hat, or about our living-impaired friend who's been following you around? I was pretty sure High Hat could hear us, but I didn't expect him to be able to communicate from inside the bag...and I didn't expect Casper the Friendly Ghost to be able to listen to us here."

Adom stops laughing, " He cannot see us here. Not unless he has perfectly attuned himself to one of us. Are any of you carrying Fetishes or Talons right now? If so, pile them up here. We can settle this fairly quickly. "

He begins to pull various small phials and bits of leather and string from his pockets.

Wishbone lays down his waterskin. The fact that he doesn't pull out a small cornucopia of talens is as much testimony to the brawl he went through recently as the scars on his abdomen.

Adom nods, then kneels and holds his hands over Wishbone's fetish. After a moment of silent he begins an incantation to Thoth. A few moments later, he lights a small bit of paper and throws it into the air. The paper burns green and evaporates.

The rite complete, Adom begins gathering up his supplies, "It is much more impressive if it gets a hit. But I can say there is no supernatural means being used to observe us right now."

"Dunno. That's the message he delivered when I was talking to him. He was following me around and messing with my adventures for a bit. Said he could hear you and asked me to correct you.

Well, he asked me to destroy the caern and steal the hat for him but I stalled until he talked too much. I took his final request, calling you an idiot, and released him from his haunting.

Good news though, I made a lot of allies in the local wraith community for when a fight does come. I'm going to owe, um, their equivalent of chimenage, but they're going to help."

"So the dead guy now knows we've got High Hat in a bag. Well, that's just peachy." He turns to Adom. "Would this "haunting" Ashmoore's talking about have let him cross over? Is that what you meant by "attuned?" I mean, it sounds like he could hear us before Ashmoore got here..."

He turns to Ashmoore. "And while we're on the subject, who the hell is he? Was he? Whatever. Did he let that slip? I'd love to know whose incorporeal neck it is I want to wring."

"That is a Strider issue, but Attunement is something ghosts do to make more easy consorts. I have been quietly checking everyone in this Sept for attunement and have found no sign of it as of yet."

"...but he could apparently hear us just the same. So where does that leave us? If we can't ever be sure of discussing our plans without being overheard, that's a significant problem."

Adom shrugs, " I do not see any way he could be listening to us in the Umbra, having ruled out the usual ways of doing so. In my professional opinion it is not possible. "

Having recovered his Jug, and Bag, with the Hat in the Box from the Collection on the Floor.

Have we rulled out physical ease dropping.... I know it should be difficult but I once saw a TV show about such things. I think it involved the Soviet Bugging the New US Embassy or something like that....

We would need a skilled Glass Walker to figure it out and honestly I dont know if its possible. I guess we could poke around I dont know how much of the Weavers influence can creep inside the Baun but outside it at the Power Plants and the tourist traps on both sides of the Falls the Weaver is very strong!?!

[Well this has gone on long enough, you'll catch the beginning of the 2/1/2012 event. Feel free to react here, event continues on "True Love Waits" thread.]

There is noise like the stomping of feet approaching here in the Near Umbral Bawn.

A few moments later, a procession of minor spirits moves past the group. They appear grimly serious, carrying swords, spears and shotguns. They march past two by two, heading out and up from the Heart. They seem to number in the hundreds.

"He never let on who he was for certain. I was in the process of talking to him, in order to renegotiate his request when he took offense at whatever comments you were making about him being 'Walker.' All he let on was who he was not.

Most of the other wraiths in the area don't know who he was and couldn't compel him to come out and play, otherwise I would have jumped him with them right there.

They did mention they suspect he's a victim of the holocaust. Those guys are on the very thin line between spectres and just wraiths gone black hat.

I can keep looking into it. Well, I plan to keep looking into it... not that I need any of your permission to do my job."