The Glade 4.0

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PostPosted: Mon Jan 25, 2010 4:17 am 
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adorabalicious
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Sees-into-stars sat on a large rock, raking his teeth across his haunch desperately trying to get to the spot that itched the most yet constantly evaded him. His frustration caused a smell whine to exit his The year was 1932 and the location was what Kansas whether he liked it or not and he was finding out that he was an Uktena, that is he would find out right after a large paw swatted him for not paying attention to what was being taught by an old and large wolf that walked funny and had a big stick.

Patience-of-the-waters was in the process of losing the large reserves of the resource he was best known for. How was he to teach this young thing whose arrival had been seen in the night sky if the pup couldn’t even ignore a few fleas? This is your son – your glory and your responsibility he taught himself now find some more patience or get a new name – he told himself. “Sees-into-stars, do you want to disappoint your father and bring shame to him?” Patience asked with his best overly sad face.

Sees-into-stars snapped to attention and for the rest of his training he would be attention so as to not disappoint his father – he hadn’t seen his mother in many many moons. He learned he was a Theurge who had to talk to spirits and learn many things he had no need to know when he ran with his pack before, his new pack demanded many things. They told of things stranger than of spirits and the world be they told him he would have no time for these things though he saw some when his new pack mates who wore a second skin came by. Sometimes they had circles on their face that brought a new sun. Sometimes they had thunder in a shell that moved like the wind of the prairie lands. He learned his father was a Lenape but they were from far away where things called forests were. He wanted to see one some day but he was again told he wouldn’t have time to see. Sometimes this made him sad.

His father was very proud of him, how fast he learned things, when he was no longer a cub with his new pack, when he summoned his first gaffling, then jaggling and more! When he bested a spirit in a riddle contest because he saw through the trickery of words. His father sometimes he thinks was a little less than proud when he would play with the homids and their shiny fire making box. He even climbed inside the shell of thunder, automobile and stuck his head outside the shell – he had never ran so fast! Soon though came the time for which he was told his father and Sept were told about. This is why he hadn’t had much time to do more things…

“Stick it where the sun don’t shine!” and with slam of the door Barbara stepped out into the snow and never looked back. A cigarette dangled from the stunned lips of Dennis and then dropped to burn a hole in his new jacket. A better last image of him Barbara could not have imagined. The year was 1955 (although just) and the location was Chicago and Barbara did not like it at all. Let that **** Shadow Lord son of a ***** get his renown out of someone else – he’ll never know I am pregnant and neither will any of them. She drove back to Philadelphia to see her dad, he was sly enough to make arrangements with someone at the Sept she gave a damn about to trade favors for claiming a successful mating. And that’s what happened and on July 4th 1955 when Patricia Lynn Turner was born and the proud Glass Walker father paced in the lobby of the hospital shoving cigars in everyone’s hand who would take them.
“Elder Sees-into-stars?” asked a timid and respectful voice out into the plains as the night’s wind whipped the tall grasses around.

A voice seeming to come from the sky answered with one word “Come”. The voice cracked with age.

A wave of relief came over the young Cliath – the elder was still alive. The year was 1962 and it was the elder’s 32nd birthday – almost unheard of for a one born of a wolf. The figure padded over and brought news. “The strife you speak of grows nearer.” And the young one trembled as he felt a malevolence in the air grin. The wind seemed to whip the grass against him like a painful whip and the stars above gazed down with an icy glare.

The elder not looking down from staring up moved within the accursed place and to the young one and took the bag of food – human food this time, Chinese they called it. “These ‘missles’ are in the land of Cuba – yes? They make the Alpha of these lands nervous and he struggles greatly with the weight of bringing to mighty tribes to war.?”

As far as Chases-bunnies-and-loses had known – the Elder had never been told of Cuba. He stumbled out “Yes, yes…the President…and everyone is…”

A very old stick at that point touched the bottom of Chases’ mouth and shut it for him. “Speak not of fear under this sky. Speak of the strength of will to stand against fear, with the resolve of truth in one’s heart.” After a pause long enough to make the young one nervous again “Go and have the men of the totem of Kennedy that travel through bring word to make offerings to lend that spirit’s strength to the Kennedy.”

Speaks didn’t understand this, if a Garou was President of the United States of America every Sept in the world would know of it. “Elder, again I do not understand, how will I know these men and of what totem?”

Without wavering in resolve against LiesBeneath the old Theurge looked into the mysteries beyond the stars and said “You shall know them by their second skin – all of them are Theurges of men from the same family – marked by the white fur on their throat. They shall ride guided by their Totem into your den until their thunder fades. You shall guide them but reveal no mystery save the one I’ve given you.

“Yes elder, I shall do as you say and tell the priests to pray for him when their car breaks down in town. I will see you tomorrow and bring you more food. The sept thanks you for their service and as a gift we have brought you what you have been denied” with that he dropped a years worth of National Geographic on the land and padded back into the night making sure to cleanse himself before he came to the bawn and informed the sept. He wished he could have told the old one what he knew he wished to hear the most, yet no pups had been born with the gift needed to hold the beast at bay. Maybe next year.


“Stick it where the sun don’t shin – *** hole!” Patty screamed at her boss – she had always loved that phrase but never new why. Oh well time for a new job but she was not going to miss her grandfather’s retirement party. She hopped on her bike, tucked her ragged copy of Atlas Shrugged in the side bag, and kicked it up out to Valley Forge where the lodge was throwing him a party and the pack was throwing him a better one after sundown. Lost the wolf have you – never to me. Never to me gramps, never to me. The hot summer night belonged to July 4th 1976 the bicentennial of the nation and she couldn’t think of a better retirement for a 3 star general veteran of WWII and countless battles with the Wyrm than Valley Forge.

Though for the life of her she couldn’t ever imagine him growing trees from saplings and cuttings for the rest of his life. That’s a Ragabash for you I suppose – full of surprises, hes going to get one of his own when I tell him I’m heading out west to find myself. ‘New age horsehit’ – that’s what he’s going to say I know it. Her mind raced as fast as the wind through her hair at the culmination of one Garou’s life and the beginning of another’s.

She sped down Trooper Road towards the historic site – passing the house she was raised in on purpose. The perfect house for a general – on top of a hill overseeing Norristown – the very heart of the County. She still remembered the July 4th her and the nation’s birthday and the fireworks they would see and the parade her grandfather would be in on main street; sometimes dad would even be there if he didn’t have business to tend to.

She was right, he did call it horsehit, but she was wrong. He understood the need to find out who one is before one can find their course in life. Hell he even tricked dad into agreeing. Thanks gramps. Besides a galliard has to find some songs of her own to sing about right?


/More than you knew Patty, more than you ever knew.

{Just a small pack boy livin in a lonely world, he longed to go anywhere
Just a city boy girl and raised a patriot, she took an old harley going anywhere}

Ok not perfect right? Heh what would you know – you’ve never heard the song. I can tell you Patty wouldn’t appreciate it – not her style.

Anyway where were we?/


A year later and Patty has a new life a new Sept and a new job. She is in a punk rock band and she loves it. She screams what is true in the world and tears at the false web of lies and encourages people to kick it down and tear it apart. Its primal and she swears shes seen a few times where she thought humans had rage…maybe. “It’s a moot tonight and shes going to perform…here’s hoping the elder’s like it.” She turns to some kinfolk with outrageous hairdos and they look nervous setting up a generator and power even in the bawn. “Trust me, there ARE spirits of rock out there.”

…as punishment for insulting the ears of the elders Patty had to take over the duties of a recently injured elder. “In lupus, I have to walk 15 miles in lupus at night, in the middle of nowhere to a cursed site to speak to some stupid Theurge who is older than our eldest. And who eats haggis?” she thought to herself as she pulled the satchel along the ground “and who loaded it with books anyway? “.

Then suddenly her anger was gone as she felt the world swirl around her as if the earth heaved up and the sky came crashing down. Something was watching her and it thought she was…food…no…a plaything – yes, not worth eating that would be too sl…

“Enough!” Came a howl which made that something scurry away. “Think no more about it, name yourself child!”

Not often one without words “I…I…”regaining her composure and bringing her stage edge to the front “My name is Patty – who the **** are you?!” she thought she had done pretty well. Told him off and no way anyone would find out – this guy never comes to the caern she heard.

No anger in the words that returned and the response took her entirely by surprise. “What is the meaning of ****?” an honest and very old wolf whined with the sincerity of a child.

Entirely disarmed, she had no idea how to explain **** to an old man. She suddenly understood the reality of what it meant to never leave this area and felt sorry for the elder, she had had enough lovers to know how sad to be. “My apologies, I’ve brought you food”.

She moved closer and was almost on the old wolf who seemed to have no scent having all washed away with time and the wind. “What is the food called? What land is it from? Tell me the stories of that land if you know them.” He asked as he turned towards her yet never taking his eyes off of the sky, what she caught of them were milky-white anyway and she doubted he could even see.

“Haggis, Scotland, and I don’t know much geography but its in Europe someplace and I think the Fianna are from around there.

“Fianna – I have never met one though I hear they are noble poets and fierce warriors for Gaia.” He made himself rigged and concentrated and the lat vestiges of that cloying fabric in the air faded. The old wolf looked half starved as it pawed at the pack. “You can be homid if you desire young one. It is acceptable here but not in traveling to and from.”

/I wish I could tell you more little one but I only tell you what I know from sources that I trust and her first meeting with him was one she told me about several times. The elder who used to visit your father recovered but she still went to see him. She said he reminded her of nice people in her life. Who they were she never said. She traveled to see him many many times, bringing songs of different lands to him and even singing some songs of her own – which he said he liked.

She visited with a friend and unlike those who visited out of respect or duty she noticed changes in her friend. He was blessed with Gaia with the lifespan of a homid but his age was apparent and taking its toll. She once traveled far and wide with a Silent Strider seeking someone who could take his place but they could find none at least not after the one groomed to be your father’s replacement was killed in a duel a day after he became a Cliath. She told me she thought he started to worry for the first time in his life then…and worry was a very very bad thing.

You see 9 months ago…/


Sees-into-Stars ate a plate of linguini. He learned to use tools to move the pasta into his mouth. The taste was fantastic. Glory-to-Gaia had just left and Sees was lost in the taste and trying to ignore that nagging feeling that he would die unreplaced, and those nightmares would come true – those nightmares he had had ever since he had heard of Gazes-nightly being cut down. “Stupid foolish loss of life, of that precious precious life…I bet clams would go well with this. The Lenape had clams, too bad they did not have linguini. I wonder if Italians had clams?”

“Sees, the tribe has a replacement for you!” a hurried and panting howl burst through the night air. It was Glory-to-Gaia and the words tasted sweeter than the linguini. In excitement the elder relieved himself – something that had been less and less controllable recently.

“Thank Gaia, I am relieved” Sees howled into the night air the loudest he had ever – so loud it was heard here 15 miles away at the Caern. Fifteen miles can seem forever sometimes.

Glory walked through the brush and brought a young Garou who seemed familiar – had he seen this one in dreams? He quickly quizzed the young one on what he knew about LiesBeneath and many other things. The young one answered with a depth of knowledge that even Sees had not had when he took up tending. He was more than satisfied – he could never had hoped for this. The young one stated he was from off when asked – like a Fiana. He said he had never had haggis thought.

The night of questions seemed to pass so quickly for Sees. The passing of the guardianship was at hand and he could hear running and howls in the distance. It was Patty coming to take him to the sept and perform the last rituals he would ever have like she promised. He couldn’t wait to see all the cubs and elders to match them against the names he had heard, he had known the names of their parents, and grandparents, and some – even further back. The ritual was completed and the young Garou took the staff in hand as Sees released it.
“Sweet release!” came the words out of Sees mouth however they were not his. With a horror he had not felt save for the first time he was brought here Sees felt a presence so raw and close and active. No, closer than the first time this was from within. He tried to focus his eyes on the young tender and ask for help, to have the tender use his knowledge to force the bane to slumber again. Lies Beneath allowed the old eyes to focus on the young spiral who spread his tattered bat wings in the moonlight in glee and howled at the release of evil on the land as the last of the corrupted spirit slithered into the body of its former captor.

A howl rang out louder, and much clearer this time “Sees – no!! It’s a lie!” oh it was Patty, No, no no it was Patty.

“Yes, it is Patty. What shall we do with Patty? I know – lets ****.” The thoughts and voices were like wet cold mud slowly seeking into every crack. He felt drowned in the mud, his body to weak to resist, his mind to divided and soft. He knew he was growing soft – he should have demanded any theurge here, he should have. “Yes you should have, this is all your fault, everything that happens now is because of you. EVERYTHING.

/I won’t go into the details of what happened after this. We stopped the Bane but lost Glory-to-Gaia and an elder. We never found the spiral. We found your mom though, no hands, no feet and her face ripped off – her beautiful face. She lived long enough to have you and my last promise to her as her husband was to take care of you. It is 1985 May 31st and you’re a day old and I’m off to fight a duel to make the sept allow the Children to keep you. I know I am only kinfolk but I think that Crows-before-Victory just wants me and you to die – something about an old Shadow Lord grudge. By Gaia even if I die I’ll make him cry out in pain – I don’t know how but I’ll do it. And no matter what Stephen – I’ll always be with you./

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"...but there exists also in the human heart a depraved taste for equality, which impels the weak to attempt to lower the powerful to their own level and reduces men to prefer equality in slavery to inequality with freedom." - De Tocqueville


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PostPosted: Tue Jan 26, 2010 9:25 pm 
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I like it. Only inconsistent thing I see is you start in 1932, and I seem to recall that werewolves don't really live much longer than regular humans. I could be remembering incorrectly.

Edit: I'm remembering another reason why I probably wouldn't like the new WOD. No Gurahl. :(

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PostPosted: Wed Jan 27, 2010 4:21 pm 
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adorabalicious
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He was a wolf so his average life should have been 20 years but he had longevity (a reasonable way for my character to have it is that his father did).

We don't play in the new WoD, I love Gurahl.

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"...but there exists also in the human heart a depraved taste for equality, which impels the weak to attempt to lower the powerful to their own level and reduces men to prefer equality in slavery to inequality with freedom." - De Tocqueville


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