Rocks are Better than Family

[hazlogs]

It is currently 17:51 Pacific Time on Wed May 21 1997.
Currently on this breezy and warm spring sunset in the general St. Claire
area, it is 67 degrees Fahrenheit (19.4 degrees Celsius). The wind is coming
from the south-southeast at 9.7 mph. The ground is wet. Skies are overcast
with no chance of precipitation.
Currently the moon is in the waxing Full Moon phase (99% full).

Around the Lone Boulder
The sparse forest gives way here into a vast clearing, entirely devoid of
trees or heavy underbrush for great distances all around. Low, thick grass,
a palish green in color, grows everywhere underfoot; it sways ever so gently
in the chill winds that seem to settle in across this open expanse with
unusual frequency. The occasional darker shoot or dandelion weed makes its
way up amidst the rest, but the hilly territory is on the whole a uniform
color, reminiscent of a moor. Adding to the image is the single, ponderous
old stone, a grey-brown in color, settled uncannily in the dead center of
the expanse as if it has perched there alone since the dawn of time. Grass
grows up around the weathered boulder, but its vaguely-flattened top clears
the grass by a good many feet, at least chest-high to a good-sized man. The
sky, often grey, is a presence in this sudden openness, appearing from
amidst the treetops to arc high over the grass and stone.
Woodland tracks lead off into the forest to the north and south, while the
boulder itself stands at the center of the clearing.
Contents:
Alexander
Silver-In-Night
Guardians' Lair(#2400AJOes$)
Obvious exits:
Boulder North South

Alexander is standing near the entrance to the guardians' den. None of the
other members of Cerberus are visible.
Erik walks with his hands in his pockets and his head slightly lowered,
apparently watching the ground mroe than anything else. He slows as he nears
the great boulder, but does not notice the other Garou.
Silver-In-Night is sitting quietly in the shadows cast by the trees, almost
unseen.
Alexander is obvious to the Silver Fang's presence. When he spies the Fianna,
his attention drifts over in that direction, but he makes no motion.

Looking at the large boulder, you see...
Lone Boulder
This large, irregularly-shaped boulder is somewhat flattened on top, its rough
stone making a serviceable seat for a number of people. The rock beneath you
is a grey-brown in color, shot through with faint veins of white and
flickering here and there with accents in pyrite. The surface also appears
to be curiously grooved; breaks in the rock run hither and yon across it in
smooth, circular patterns that you think, at moments, seem about to form
definable images before they melt away into natural chaos once again.
Scattered in amongst these marks are small, flattened, shiny areas in which
one might be able, if one looked closely, to see one's reflection. The
boulder provides an excellent view of the sky; it arcs panoramic overhead,
the trees standing at a far remove.
Grassland spreads away down below.

Erik still hasn't noticed either Garou, and, believing himself unobserved, the
Fianna's body language lacks the awkward, cringing tension it usually
displays. Stopping at the huge boulder, Erik unpockets one gloved hand and
lays it flat on the great rock's odd surface, his head slightly tilted to
one side.
Silver-In-Night raises his head, looking toward Erik, ears perked forward
curiously.
A soft murmuring sing-song emits from the Fianna's direction, barely audible
except to lupine ears, liquid syllables in a foreign tongue.
Alexander folds his arms across his chest to watch the Fianna curiously.
Erik's singing, quiet as it is, fades back into silence after a few phrases.
Shaking his head slightly, he turns away from the boulder, lifting his head
to sweep his eyes across the area... and, in spotting Alexander, the Metis
freezes.
Silver-In-Night tilts his head to one side.
Alexander calls, "Evening."
Erik hesitates a moment in his reply. "Er. Good evening, sir."
Alexander tilts his head curiously. "Something wrong?"
Erik gives his head a shake and folds his arms around himself. "No, sir. I was
just... startled."
Alexander nods slowly. "OK. Don't let me interrupt."
Scott comes out into the clearing from the hills to the south.
Erik starts to turn back toward the boulder, hesitantly. "Sir," he says,
obviously addressing Alexander, "do you know if there are any... erm,
stories? About this rock?"
Alexander's eyes flicker to the rock brieftly then back to the Metis. "None
that I know of. Why?"
Scott makes his way in from the south, giving a small wave and moving over
towards the entrance to the lair. He catches some of the question, and his
expression evens, an obvious attempt the cover the darkness he creeps onto
his face that he pulls off far better than he used to. As he approachs he
glances at the entrance to the lair, and says,"Evening, everyone. Everything
under control Alexander?"
Erik touches the surface of the lone boulder with a careful hand. "The...
patterns in the surface," he murmurs softly. He falls silent at the Fang's
approach.
Soren walks quietly from the hug of the Guardian's Lair, satchel slung over
his shoulder. He shares a communicative glance with Scott and Alexander as
he joins them.
Alexander nods once to Scott, but then looks to Soren to confirm it, he just
having been inside. To Erik, he replies, "Well, Soren here might be able to
tell you a little more about it."
Silver-In-Night sits quiet and completely still, almost completely hiden by
the shadows cast by the trees and the moonlight.
Scott offers simply,"The only 'stories' I've heard related to the boulder have
to do with Gaia's justice that has been meted out here." He pauses, and then
glances to his packmates, suddenly going quiet.
Erik ducks his head slightly and slips his hands back into his pockets.
Soren glances over at Scott, brow furrowing slightly and he silently shakes
his head in response to something. He then looks over at Erik. "The boulder?
You should talk to it sometime."
Anne comes up from the sparse forest to the north.
Anne sets off across the rising ground to the south, eventually becoming lost
from view in the forest.
Alexander says "Anyone know what time it is?"
Erik turns his masked face toward Soren, shifting his weight from one large
foot to the other. "I, er, I'm not a Theurge," he says, apologetically.
Scott shakes his head a little. "Not exactly. Elder Moot is soon though, I'm
going to have to split."
Alexander nods. "Me too." He looks at Soren. "You be OK here alone?"
Soren gives a nod to Alexander. "Yeah. I'll be fine. She's sleeping at the
moment... or dying. Or both." The Get glances over at Erik again. "She'll
talk to others... sometimes."
Silver-In-Night stands from his spot, and yawns. He stretches, bones cracking
slightly; the first noise that he's made. He steps free of the shadows, the
tattoo on his brow almost seems to glow in the light of the Full Moon for a
moment.
Erik shifts his weight again, nodding to Soren.
Scott smiles a little. "Thanks, Soren. Give a yell if you need help. We
shouldn't be that far away."
Alexander nods, and starts off, shifting as he goes.
Alexander contorts and blurs as he is transformed.
Alexander shifts into Lupus form.
Thunder's Claws sets off across the rising ground to the south, eventually
becoming lost from view in the forest.
Silver-In-Night closes his mouth, eyes glancing around, the glow on his brow
diminishing quickly.
Spirit-of-Words contorts and blurs as he is transformed.
Spirit-of-Words sets off across the rising ground to the south, eventually
becoming lost from view in the forest.
Soren looks over at Silver-In-Night, nodding. "Evening."
Silver-In-Night nods a greeting to Soren, eyes glancing off the way that the
two Fosterns just went. His lips pull down in some kind of wolfish smirk.
Erik withdraws a short distance, mutely.
Silver-In-Night says, ~Gee, not even so much as a greeting from them....~
Soren looks over at the Fang. "Elder Moot."
Robert comes up from the sparse forest to the north.
Robert strolls down from the north and looks at the group gathered near the
boulder. He nods politely to Soren, asking, "The guest does well?"
Soren shakes his head matter-of-factly to Robert. "She's dying."
Silver-In-Night shrugs his shoulders toward Soren. ~Yes, but still no reason
to be impolite.~
Erik freezes for a moment at the Athro's approach, then ducks his head
slightly in a submissive, even meek, greeting.
Silver-In-Night shakes his ruff out, then glances toward Erik curiously.
Robert nods at Soren. "I've done what I can already today. She's dying too
quickly. If those children don't get word bck from elsewhere soon, she will
die here."
Silver-In-Night continues watching Erik curiously, turning his head from side
to side.
The Get simply nods to Robert. "She's sleeping at the moment. No way to
convince her that the message might be shared with you or one of the other
Elders?"
Erik tilts his head, apparently looking back at Silver In Night, though it's
impossible to see the Fianna's eyes.
Robert shakes his head. "She's rather adamant on that subject. She would
probably protect it with what's left of her life."
Silver-In-Night inquires, ~You speak to rocks often?~
Soren mmms. "And there isn't much of that left at this rate. We should cut the
leg off."
Erik hesitates, then shakes his head at Silver in Night.
Silver-In-Night says, ~Yet you speak to this rock?~
Robert shakes his head, a sad smile on his face. "We should, but she's not
standing for it yet. We'll see, and keep her alive as long as possible."
Erik shrugs a bit at the Fang. "It's... an interesting rock," he says slowly,
his tone embarrassed.
Silver-In-Night tilts his head to one side, ears splayed forward in
curiousity. ~How so?~
Soren shrugs and nods. He looks back toward the lair. "Should I try the Touch
again?"
Erik makes a vague gesture toward the lone boulder. "The... surface of it
is... odd."
Silver-In-Night nods his head a little, eyes still on Erik. ~Yes, it does.~
Robert sighs gently. "It couldn't hurt. At the very least, perhaps we can
stave it off for a while."
Soren gives a serious, stoic nod to Robert. "I'll do what I can. If I knew
more about healing herbs, I could bring their spirits to consciousness and
strengthen the healing... maybe. But I know too little."
Erik shrugs again and shifts his weight, uncomfortable under the Fang's stare.
Silver-In-Night says, ~You seek stories about this rock?~
Robert sighs again and nods. "We work with what we have. Thank you."
Robert sets off across the rising ground to the south, eventually becoming
lost from view in the forest.
Erik tilts his head slightly. "I, um, seek stories in general."
The Get watches the Warder walk off and then looks back at the boulder and his
companions for the moment. "Is that what you are called? Storyseeker?"
Silver-In-Night says, ~I've been with this Sept for over three years now. This
place is often used for meetings, and also used as the anchor for many
moonbridges.~
Erik sighs quietly at Soren. "My name is Sings-in-Shadow."
Soren nods confirmation to Silver-In-Night's description of the place.
"Sings-in-Shadow. I've not heard you sing yet."
Erik makes a vague gesture and stuffs his hands back into his pockets.
Silver-In-Night comments. ~You are uneasy. Why?~
Erik simply shakes his head and starts to move off, his head lowered.
Soren looks over at Silver-in-Night with a shrug.
Silver-In-Night gazes curiously at Erik, strangely, no malevolence is present
in his eyes or bearing, although maybe a little concern. Something strange
in this New Moon's eyes. ~I will listen if you wish to speak of it. Worries
of the heart and mind, only increase the burden if not shared or passed on.~
Erik pauses, then shakes his head again and vanishes into the forest.

You set off south, picking your way through the heavy underbrush as you leave
the large clearing. The ground rises beneath you, hilly and forested, with
standing copses dotting the meadowland frequently enough for this territory
to be termed woodland. After a fair time travelling, you end up in...

The Sept Compound(#2075RAM)
Contents:
Steven
Rowan
Elan
Current Compound Residents (Updated: May 12)
Windchimes
Obvious exits:
Ash Grove Groundskeeper's Shelter Faint Trail

[Rowan]
This very tall woman is almost masculine in her leanness and sunbrowned by
constant travel. Her wiry chestnut hair glimmers with deep auburn highlights
under the right conditions, and is tied back in a clubbed ponytail. Her
features are not pretty by any means, being somewhat squarish in the jaw and
heavily freckled over the nose and cheeks, and lips a little too thin. There
is a sense of barely controlled tension in her, and she seems to have
difficulty staying still, pacing often with her long legs. Her arms and
upper body appear to be very muscular for a woman, lending her a somewhat
hulking presence with the addition of her height (about 6'4"). Piercingly
blue eyes crinkle with a boisterous kind of humor, from underneath the heavy
line of her dark and somewhat shaggy eyebrows. Despite her openness and
friendly appearance, many people will feel a slightly dangerous quality to
her, a slight hardness to her gaze, and a clenching of the jaw that
indicates repressed anger. Her voice is thick and irregular, one who is not
used to speaking out loud, perhaps. She is wearing a leather one-piece suit,
with a sword hilt peeking over her shoulder, hard leather scabbard being
strung upon her back and running down most of the length of her body.
OOC: She has a Pure Breed of 2, and a Char of 3
Carrying:
Claymore

Rowan spreads her calloused hands. "Nae, I've not seen him. He seems to be a
busy lad."

[Rowan's Claymore]
This blade is easily 5 feet long and the edge is honed to a fine and deadly
sharpness. The metal is dull steel, and the hilt a straight cross-brace
wrapped in well-worn black leather. The scabbard is of plain black leather
also, and is intended to be worn on the back.

Erik slips into the clearing, his body language hunched. He pulls up short at
the unfamiliar voice and jerks his head up, staring frankly at the stranger
who's only an inch or two shorted than he is, the stranger with the huge
great sword on her back.
Elan relaxes a bit more. "He's a hard on to catch, sometimes. " He chuckles.
"I've been needing to talk to him for a week or so, but, well, he's always
in the midst of something or other."
Steven half-grins at the Ahroun's reply but the expression fades quickly as he
spies the Metis with narrowed eyes. He curses roundly under his breath and
glares at the other Galliard. "He can be at times," he replies at length, to
Rowan, his voice assuming a neutral tone that his body language and face do
not share.
Rowan's glance wander in the same direction as Steven's, and she cocks a
shaggy brow at Erik, assuming a neutral expression of her own, but with a
certain amount of confidence to her own frank asssement of the tall arrival.
She waits expectantly.
Erik ducks his head slightly toward the tall stranger; his body language has
the tucked-tail quality of a career omega. "Er."
Rowan looks towards Steven and then back at Eric. "What is that?" She regards
Steven with a tense curiousity.
Elan gives Erik a friendly smile and nod, and cuts his eyes to the moon, then
gives a head nod towards the other two Garou.
"That," Steven says with a harsh look that is echoed in his voice, "is what
happens when Garou break the First Law. I'm almost ashamed to admit that he
lays claim to our tribe." He half-growls to Erik, "Don't just stand there.
Introduce yourself or leave."
Erik flinches. Shoulders hunched, he mumbles, "Erik Sings-in-Shadow, Galliard
of the Fianna." The Irish lilt to his voice is pronounced, perhaps from some
continued stress or just a touch of the moon. Or both.
Rowan turns her gaze upon the mule, with an incredulous expression. "And it
was allowed to live?" She ignores Erik's introduction, but stalks over to
him, eyes glowering under her shaggy shelf of eyebrows. Her hands clench
reflexively.
Elan gets up and calmly pads over to Erik, and past him into the trees.
Elan whispers "Moon mad. Wanna come elsewhere?"
Erik takes a reflexive step back from the woman.
Steven breathes out a near silent, "Yes," to Rowan's question. "Soft hearted
sept where he comes from, I suppose. Those at the Wheel seem to take to
mules for some reason, though I know the Righ doesn't much care for them."
He gives Elan a pointed stare as he leaves. "Nor do I," he adds, almost as
an afterthough, his face carved into a heavy frown.
Rowan wrinkles her lip in a lupine-like snarl. She spits, aiming for one of
Erik's feet. "Aye. 'Tis a cursed world that lets such things be. If I ever
catch ye away from this Sept's lands, be warned, Mule."
Elan ghosts through the trees, slowly, picking his way.
Elan leaves the compound.
Elan has left.
Erik jerks back just in time to avoid the spitwad, nimble as a frightened
deer. He says nothing, but presses back into the shadow of the trees,
pulling the long, cloaklike coat about himself.
Steven sneers as the Metis retreats, seeing exactly what he expected. "He
claims to like it here," he says, indicating the trees with a jerk of his
head. "Isn't that right?" he says to the shadows there.
Erik remains silent, unwilling to respond to the taunting inquiry.
Rowan clenches her jaw, teeth grinding audibly. Her whole body tenses, as if
to follow after the retreating mule.
"That's it," Steven calls out mockingly. "Hide, mule. Your kind are all the
same." His eyes narrow and he too takes a few steps towards the trees.
"Coward."
Erik remains mute and holds his ground, shoulders hunched and arms wrapped
around his chest. Tension surrounds him like an almost tangible aura.
Rowan wrinkles her lip again, in obvious distaste. "I am bound by honor not to
touch you without permission on /these/ lands, mule. But don't test me."
With that, she turns her back on Erik and stalks back into the compound
proper. She draws her blade and sends it whistling through the air,
muttering to herself.
Steven pushes the Metis, taunting him further. "Your silence is most
impressive. But then we expect as much from the offspring of those who would
charach. Show yourself, if you claim yourself as one of Gaia's own warriors.
Show yourself to the light of the moon, if you dare to join our company." He
turns his back with contempt and follows the Ahroun, seemingly quite
confident that Erik will stay put.
Rowan continues swinging the huge blade, not directed at anything, but just in
smooth practice movements. Her expression and bearing are such that you
might not want to get too close.
Erik hardly seems likely to challenge the amazonian swordwoman, far from it,
and neither does he simply stay put. With a slight shake of his head, the
Metis chooses not to tempt the moon's rage, and he vanishes out of the
compound and back into the forest.

You leave the compound, making your way northeast through the meadows to the
denser parts of the forest.