First Strike

[hazlogs]

It is currently 18:17 Pacific Time on Sun May 19 2002.

Currently in Saint Claire, it is a cloudy day. The temperature is 58 degrees
Fahrenheit (14 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in from the
north at 3 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 29.74 and steady, and the
relative humidity is 69 percent. The dewpoint is 48 degrees Fahrenheit (8
degrees Celsius.)

Currently the moon is in the waxing Half Moon phase (53% full).


Walker Safe House - Lobby


Roger steps into the safehouse, letting Yi in behind him looking like a
mini-Roger at this point. "Honey! I'm home!" He calls into the safehouse.

Salem comes down the stairs, in the process of tying his hair back.
"Evening, Roger," he says evenly.

Yi folds up her previous thin blue jacket covering, and hangs onto it.
Indeed, dressed now in a trenchcoat that drops to the lower leg, just add
sunglasses and she could be one of those cast for Matrix XVII. Or whatever.

Roger looks up to Salem then back to Yi, then over the rest of the house.
"Um... aren't we supposed to be getting the troops rallied up tonight?"

Lyra comes up the street, eyes cast on the ground. She didn't want to lose
it completely in front of Renee. Scary Renee. Like some child from a bad
horror movie who- Oh. Lyra stops walking as she approaches the door to
Walker House, and steps up to it, pressing the buzzer.

Yi turns around at the buzzer, glancing up to the screen above. "Lyra. I'll
let you in," she says over the intercom with a quick buzz in.

Salem arches a brow. "That _was_ the idea, as far as I'm aware." He pushes
up his coat sleeve slightly to get a look at his watch.

Roger turns quickly about to open the door, but Yi beats him to it. At
Salem's words Roger heads to the rec room. "Well, I for one am not going to
stand around and wait. I'll be sitting instead."

With a grateful nod, the Chinese cub slips inside quickly. She pulls her
hood down, looking around at everyone, settling her gaze on Yi. "(Hello,
miss,)" she says with a shaky smile.

Yi, despite her "I should kill someone now" look, smiles at the cub. "(Just
go with Yi. I don't normally need formalities.)" She motions the cub to go
on in to wherever she may wish, briefly noting that not-quite certain smile
on Lyra.

Salem pauses a few moments to cast a glance over the cub, then leaves Yi to
handle her while he, like Roger, heads into the rec room.

Roger lounges on the couch, and turns on the TV, getting quickly to the
local news.

In the Lobby, Renee hits the buzzer on the front door, then looks up at the
video camera. Waiting to be let in.

In the Lobby, As if on cue, John makes his way down the stairs from his
apartment. There's a trenchcoat on the man, but the usual street uniform is
rather different, now. Dark greens, rather than black, in a cut similar to
fatigues. A small pack over his shoulder, bulging in places. The holsters
are in evidence, whenever the coat moves to allow a glimpse underneath. He
doesn't say anything to anyone, but moves instead to open the door for
Renee.

In the Lobby, Lyra turns at the sound of the buzzer, and sees Renee's face
on the screen. Blanching, she quickly heads to the basement, bumping into
Yi. "Sorry, sorry," she says quickly, before practically fleeing.

In the Lobby, Yi just glances after Lyra again, before buzzing Renee in.
"Hello," she greets quickly before closing the door once the galliard cub
has come in too.

In the Lobby, Renee makes her way inside and rumbles a curt hello to the
room in general. The girl is carrying around a backback and sets it down,
before inspecting John. "Geez. You're certainly packin' in the firepower.
Whatcha planning to do with all of that?"

Salem paces the length of the room, restlessly, thumbs hooked into the
pockets of his jeans.

In the Lobby, Owen is making his way to the door from the outside even as
Renee steps on in. "Hold it, please," he grunts as he tries to catch the
portal. He's in his usual attire but is carrying his duffle bag.

In the Lobby, Yi just continues to act as this doorwoman of sorts, mildly
annoyed but probably just used to it. Yes, hello, come on in... Once Owen's
in, she shuts the door behind him and shakes her head once. Still with the
jacket in hand, she makes her way to the Rec Room with a glance towards the
basement.

In the Lobby, Soon after Owen arrives, Jamethon does as well. He pushes the
buzzer and leans his head down a bit so the camera can get the while thing
instead of just the lower part of his face.

In the Lobby, John eyes Renee thoughtfully for a moment. "Kill people. It's
what we do." He looks up toward Owen, as the two Get make their way in. The
duffle bag is duly noted. "Right, well. Soon as Kaz gets in, we gear up and
move out. Scouting, part 2."

In the Lobby, Owen makes his way down to where the others are gathering,
finds a spot to sit and set his bag down (resulting in a few clanging sounds
of metal and wood banging together), and leans back against a wall.

Salem reaches the end of the rec room, turns, and -- noting the activity in
the lobby -- paces back toward the doorway and out.

Renee flashes her teeth in more of a snarl, then a grin. "Sounds like fun,"
she rumbles. Moving out of the way, the cub drags her bag into a corner and
sits down.

In the Rec Room, Roger clicks off the Tv and decides to head back to the
main room as well at this point.

In the Rec Room, Yi finally, after seeing all the gathered bruisers in the
lobby, hangs around the edge of the group and listens in from the doorway
between the rec room and the lobby.

After making herself comfortable, Renee pulls a sketch bad out of her
knapsack and a pencil that is little more then a nub. Tools in hand, she
starts drawing.

A single bright green eye peeks in the crack of the basement door, trying to
see who was in the room and where. Four-Leaves stops herself from growling
when she sees Renee. But Renee looked preoccupied, so...the Philocub slips
out from behind the basement door, padding as softly as she could towards
the rec room, where Yi is.

Yi glances over at the gathered, and finally puts out the question. "So,
what is the general plan? A hit and run?"

John looks about the room, thoughtfully. "It's up to Kaz, but I know what
I'll be participating in, and what I won't. It's common sense, so listen up.
If you can point out flaws, feel free to adjust. Nothing's fixed, yet. We
still know jack shit about these guys."

Salem leans against the wall near the rec room and folds his arms across his
chest, listening.

The familiar form of Alicia shows up on the monitors as she reaches over,
buzzing for entry.

Owen says nothing at this points, instead leaning over to open his duffle
bag to withdraw a shotgun and a cleaning kit. He busies himself, while
listening, with taking the gun apart for maintenance.

Roger steps in beside John, and hands him some glossy print outs from his
trench coat. "Satelite photos. I'm not positive on the date for them
though... they're something at least."

Glancing about, Yi looks up at the buzzing intercom and into the monitor.
Right, there's a more readily familiar face. Sliding around the grumpy
gathered, she buzzes Alicia in as well. "Come on in." The Gnawer is serious
now, and promptly moves back to her spot between the rec room doorway and
the lobby.

Striding inside once the Gnawer lets her through, the Urbran Child of Gaia
crosses her arms as her chin tilts up a tad. "Hey guys." She says after a
clear of the throat. She trains her eyes upon the three Walkers, offering
only a slight inking of a smile.

Roger allows a look over and nod towards Alicia, something resembling a grin
touching his features, but only barly.

In the Rec Room, Four-Leaves slips past Yi into the rec room, pacing about
it slowly. Her ears flicker as the woman speaks, and crawls under the pool
table, watching Yi. This didn't look like the time to talk to her...damn.

Salem gives Alicia a nod, then shifts his attention back to John.

Echoing the questions she had asked Roger earlier, Yi gives John the typical
safety queries. "And escape routes are planned? People appointed to wipe out
tracks and lay false trails?" The ragabash glances briefly to the rec room's
interior, brow raised at Lyra under the pool table.

Renee continues to sketch in her corner, occasionally looking up and keeping
tabs on the current conversation.

John wets his lips, and takes the photos - looking them over. "This isn't
meant to be a big raid. Just in and out. Vans for transport and escape. Just
a testing of what we can do, and how they'll respond to a threat. Kaz has a
gift that allows her to call creatures of the Wyrm to her, and we want to
see how powerful it is, and how they respond to it. Hopefully, we won't need
to run like fuck, but if they decide to all come out at once, we sure as
hell will. They have the numbers to have three patrols in one section of the
bawn, pretty much constant. We wouldn't be even a challenge."

"We ganna be picking 'em off one by one or something? Hack a lil bit at 'em
and see if we can wade through the mess over time?" Alicia asks, gaining a
voice as she draws a hand back through her hair. "Or do we plan on getting
one big group together and charging in on the next full moon?"

In the Rec Room, You are occupied, Four-Leaves says in response to the
glance. I'd like to talk to you, but it is not as important as what the
others are talking about.

Jamethon reveals a large canister hanging in his trenchcoat. "I'd open this,
but everyone in this room would run coughing. It's pure ammonia. When I
break this bad boy open everyone with lupine noses anywhere near it will
/wish/ they were dead."

Yi hunhs quietly. And that doesn't even count any possible tainted humans,
spirit help, materialized bad things... We're gonna die, Yi thinks silently
to herself. But to the cub, she motions for her to come over anyway and talk
to her. If but with silent lupus language, or with a human whisper.

Kaz's buzz is brief, and to the point.

Jamethon turns to allow the Gnawer in.

Kaz says, cheerfully, "Yo," as she hauls her burlap sack in with her.

Jarred glowers from his seat.

In the Rec Room, Four-Leaves cants her head, then scrambles out from under
the pool table. She comes up behind Yi, brushing the ragabash's hand with
her nose. It is about...Sees-True-Nature, the cub says softly. She and I had
a discussion which has worried me greatly. About humans, and killing. She
told me...that at the gang fight, she killed some. That Bridge-Mender
killed. And that humans are for killing and eating, and- Four-Leaves becomes
more and more upset as she speaks.

Owen double checks all the moving parts once more before popping the gun
back together. "I've got four rounds, all told, of silver buckshot. I'm
kinda tired of carrying it around unused." He gives Kaz only a short look as
the metis arrives.

Seeker quietly enters the safehouse and joins the gathering, listening to
the conversation to see what the plan is.

John clears his throat, and continues. "Gameplan's up to Kaz, as always, but
I want us pretty far from the bawn. That's a high concentration, there, and
if it doesn't get 'em all, some are going to want to know where there
buddies are going. I've got Salem and Roger as sniper-teams - I want 'em
paired up with bruisers in case something nasty wants to materialize behind
'em while they're working. Whatever we get in our net will need to be put
down /quickly/. Odds are they'll outnumber us, so snipers slow 'em down,
silver to give us a head start, and if we've got any left, to finish off
whatever's playing dead. I want this /reasonably/ out in the open. Got a cop
kin who'll make sure we're not too disturbed by human police. And open means
we don't get ambushed. The first scouting showed that they like to encircle.
Which means they're clever."

Kaz shoots a vaguely alarmed look at the rec rom, but picks up on what
John's saying, first. "No shit this ain't gonna be on the Bawn. And
somewhere that /funnels/ them to us but gives us enough room to book it,
quick."

Seeker says "East of the bawn would be best. It would attract the least
attention."

Roger holds the other side of the satelite photo that John is holding, so it
is flattened out. "Hrm... about here should do." Roger points to a location
just outside the bawn, a bit to the east."

Yi crouches down to meet up with Lyra, the sniper rifle concealed in her
coat becoming visible. With a quick scratch between the ears, Yi nods once
to acknowledge that she heard what the cub said, with a quick glance over at
Renee sketching in an obscure part of the lobby. "That will be something to
discuss. When I get back." She smiles warmly to the cub, a reassurance.
"Don't worry about it for now, hmm?" Yi's ear twitches up once John's plan
is finally verbalized. She finally stands up again after motioning for Lyra
to stick around, but keep quiet for now, and just follows the conversation.
Somewhere along the line, she'll eventually be needed somewhere.

Staying quiet, Alicia edges her way towards the Walkers, listening to the
conversation intently. She peers over towards the pictures, then back to the
two who agree on a similiar position.

Salem strokes his bearded chin his gaze flicking to each speaker in turn and
saying nothing.

Roger looks to John for a moment just to mention, "I don't have silver on me
persay... but the ammo I'm packing ain't the normal shit either. I also have
a range of toys," Roger now turns to address the group as a whole, "That I
think you should all be aware of. A fair amount of you already know about my
guns... but tonight there will be more..."

Kaz says, "I got silver. If anyone needs it." Then she just listens to
Roger.

Owen frowns to himself at Roger's latest news, but doesn't say anything just
yet.

Jarred looks into the hand covering one eye and massaging his temple. His
gaze is baleful, though whether the gathering itself is the focus of his
sour mood or simply the circumstances as a whole is a mystery.


 A handsome young man of 25 years, Jarred's coal black hair falls a short
ways down his athletic back, held in a pony-tail with a firmly-tied length
of black silk. He is wearing an expensive-looking black crew-neck sweater.
Tight black jeans taper down the lower half of his 6'1" form, meeting a pair
of well-polished black Docs. His motions are fluid, graceful and easy. While
a close look may reveal carefully concealed alertness, Jarred projects a
skilled illusion of nonchalance. His face, not guarded and neutral, is
pleasant, his dark eyes appraising the environment with seeming
carelessness. Upon his right hand, a large emerald glitters, set in a ring
of lustrous gold. (Appearence 3, Pure Breed 3)


John hitches one should in a shrug, and looks to Kaz. "I got enough silver
to kit out a few folks. Revolvers, too." To the assembled group, he adds,
"If we get rushed, you use 'em to soften up your target, then take 'em out
the old-fashioned way. Odds are pretty decent there'll be no cameras. Roger
may be able to rustle up a few explosives 'just in case'. Guns are very
easy, people. Point and click. Try to aim right. You don't get many shots.
If we get rushed by /too/ many... empty your load and run like fuck. We're
not here to be heroes, tonight. We're here to get information. They'll
probably outnumber us, and even though they're Garou, they're Wyrm-ridden.
Don't spare any honour on 'em. They don't deserve it."

In the Rec Room, Four-Leaves rumbles her assent and lies down again, behind
Yi. Be careful, wherever it is you're going, she mumbles, as the tired cub
lays her head on her paws.

Retrieving both hand guns from her jacket, Alicia looks down at them, then
shrugs. "I ain't got silver, these are just reg'lar o' thirty-eights.
Nothing too heavy. But I figured ah'm here for clean up, not really kicking
ass."

Seeker says "How do you intend to draw them out?"

John jerks a thumb towards Kaz. "Secret weapon," he grunts.

Kaz waggles a finger. "I got this Gift..."

Yi glances up to Roger, with a brief smile, and nods. She pats herself in
various places, making sure her knives are all easily located and
accessible. Right. Yi gives a quick two-finger salute to Lyra with a smile.
No doubt. Her own Saturday Night Special is tucked in behind her back as
well.

Seeker glances over at Kaz. "If it's the gift I think you mean, this could
be a very dangerous proposition. What contingency do you have in place if we
become overwhelmed?"

Roger continues, "I have a remote controled car that will go ahead of us at
slow speeds. It is equiped with a video camera that is hooked up to a screen
that I will be carrying. It can only go a mile ahead of me and no more then
around walking speed. It is also equiped with a close-range high-powered
fireless silver shrapnel explosive... so if it gets into shit right ahead of
us, I can detonate the fucker and take out whoever spotted it... if maybe
even more then one. Once we are in hand to hand however... it would be just
dumb to use. The ammonia you also know about." At this point Roger pulls out
what looks like an odd flaregun. "I also have this. A dart with enough juice
in it to knock a frenzying crinos right out. But I only have one, as it
takes too long to reload. If we can manage it, we should bag a hostage. We
have some silver knifes in the van in case the hostage tries anything
funny."

Kaz nods at Seeker, as she half-listens to Roger. "Yeah, Call of the Wyrm.
Ain't no fun, but that's why we got /vans/ with us, you know. This is
called, "Bug out /quick/."

Owen bends down again to rummage through his duffle bag, this time
withdrawing an axe and a makeshift sling for both it and the shotgun.
"This'll do."

Yi pokes into the conversation a moment. "How many teams do we have then?"

Jarred speaks up, finally, his voice oddlymonotone. "I'm curious. What
exactly do we hope to learn by luring a bunch of spirals to the eastern
reaches? Case? Number? Gender? How well they fight? Their favorite color? Or
is this just a chance to fight a bit and claim we've accomplished
something."

John inclines his head. "Alright, now we're all together, I wanna put some
rank in charge, here. Kaz, by default, is my /suggestion/. With a bruiser
sticking by Roger and Salem each." Narrowing his eyes at Jarred, the Walker
Elder adds, "This is a bit of all of the above. We need to blood them a
little, for our pride. And we need to see how they react to a fight. And if
we catch one... then we get to find numbers. Which we /don't/ have."

Kaz slides down a wall into a sitting position. "Well." She puts her
gunnysack with rifle in it to the side. "You see. We have this Caern, that
got overwhelmed. And y'know, I don't think that fuckin' /killing/ some of
the fuckers means we /claim/ we accomplished /anything/. I think it means we
/did/ something. It means we know how they react. It means we fucked 'em up.
It means we see what they're like. It means a lot of shit. Do you think it's
totally useless, or what?"

Yi gets the briefest sinking feeling, but tilts her head anyway. "And where
do we put the ... hostage?"

"Figure its a lot better to take a lil chunk outta 'em an show 'em that we
aren't ganna fucking lay down and die like road kill just cuz' they got our
Caern. Gotta show 'em we got bigger balls then they do." Alicia murmurs to
the group as she shifts her weight from foot to foot.

Kaz adds, on Alicia's heels, "An' we ain't plannin' on lettin' 'em /keep/
our Caern. it ain't like it's a surprise we're here, after all."

Jarred glances back at Kaz. "I don't think it's useless. But it might be
well to consider that each attack we undertake gives them information about
our strengths and weaknesses as well. The more we throw rag-tag groups at
them the more prepared they'll be when we launch everything we have. As for
the leader. I suggest Owen. He's more capable."

Kaz shrugs. "Me, I'm gonna be too busy with the Gift to be clueful enough to
know when to do shit, so I'd agree. And, so, what, Jarred, you'd just rather
have one big assed assault?"

Jamethon throws a quick glance at Jarred, then to Owen. "I agree that he is
more capable in a battle." He mentions almost reluctantly.

Yi, not one for battle tactics, waits just silently now until a plan is
hashed out. But there is that nervousness under her calm exterior, and a
quick mental play of events that could happen. Damn imagination.

Jarred simply answers, "When attacking a foe in large numbers, small
isolated attacks will only wear down our numbers bit by bit.

John hitches one shoulder in another shrug. "Owen?" He raises an eyebrow in
question.

Kaz blinks. "What, and it doesn't wear theirs down?"

John also notes mildly to Jarred, "Eight of our defenders killed seven of
their attacks when assaulted by twenty. We keep those odds up in small
skirmishes, we'll have our Caern back by the end of the month."

Roger looks to Kaz quickly with a new thought, interupting the argueing.
"Hey! We have decided to do this job tonight... those who want to assist...
do so. Oh yes... Kaz! I have a garment that is all fitted and ready to be
worn out on the town... if you want?"

"Well, ya'know -- nothing short of launching grenades at them is really
ganna make us truly happy, so, we gotta go with what we got. The longer they
are out there, the more they defile the hell outta Gaia's Heart. Right now,
yah, they got the advantage Jarred, but we got home turf advantage here, and
a whole lotta heart. We can -do this-." Alicia intones as she glances
sidelong to the Shadow Lord. "I got faith."

Seeker nods at John. "And only one lost on our side."

Jarred shrugs and smiles bitterly. "This is your operation. I'm just here to
fight. This is my chance to strike back at the killers of my old sept. Point
me in the right direction and I'll take care of the pointy ends."

Salem keeps his own counsel, his expression tight and cold. He drums his
fingers silently against his folded arm.

Kaz shakes her head. "No, look, Jarred, I was asking for a fuckin' opinion.
Don' give me 'I just follow orders.' I wanna know why you're sayin' what
you're sayin'."

Owen wraps the sling over his shoulders and places both the axe and shotgun
in it, all the while not seeming to have been paying much attention to the
rest, though his next words, spoken even as he's still busying himself with
the duffle, bely that. "I have one thing to say right now. Everyone, and
that means everyone, shut the fuck up."

Jarred smirks.

The merest hint of a smile taints John's thoughtful regard of Owen for a
moment, but disappears quickly. Orders obeyed.

Yi, of course, was way ahead of Owen now.

Kaz is too busy looking at Jarred in confusion to say much.

Roger, about to ask if Kaz heard him, quiets immediatly. A broad smile now
is pointed at Owen.

Nothing comes out of the mouthy Gaian as the ranking Fenrir speaks up.

Jamethon shifts to lupus and steps up to his alpha at this point, sitting
besides him impatient to know when we will speak of something that matters.

Owen stands up to his fullest height. "I think a lot of you are forgetting
that we are at WAR. We are Garou and we don't work as a democracy. Anyone
have any questions about that?" He doesn't give time for anyone to answer,
instead cocking the second shotgun that he's pulled from his dufflebag to
make the point clear. "Now, back to what we were on about. We aren't
cohesive enough to take back the caern as flawlessly as it was taken from
us, but we are all gonna do our part. Kaz, you are calling them out. John,
I'm sure you have more knowledge in setting up an ambush than I may have.
For now, you speak and direct. Just remember, you are on my time now."

Yi is colored impressed, and now looks to John for the plan.

Jarred looks at Kaz and mouths the word 'later' to her, implying that
answers will be forthcoming, should he survive this little excursion. Then
his attention is focused on the Fenrir.

Kaz mutters, "Damn right I am," and then nods at Roger. "Sure thing."

Roger nods to Kaz and heads to the basement with a quick step, showing up
moments later with what looks like a taylored fishing net with a bunch of
small aluminum boxes on it.

John looks about, frowning slightly at the reburdenment of responsibility.
"Smaller ambushes. I'd prefer if you judged the battle if it gets underway,
Rhya. I have very little direction, until we get there. But things people
need to remember. No noise til the call. No noise til they're /on top of
us/. No fucking around - if two can pick on one, do so. Put 'em away - if
you got the time, tear their throats out to make sure they stay down." The
Walker Elder's voice is smooth and calm. "When the order's given to retreat,
make sure you and fellow combatants are broken off, and then bug out in the
vans. I'll try to bag a Dancer alive to come with us. Want a bruiser with
Salem and Roger. If we need to run for it, they're last out to make sure
anyone running after us has some difficulty doing so. Roger's a hard case to
follow." John pauses a moment, as if trying to see if there's anything left
to remember. "Those who can heal, hang back if it's appropriate. When - /if/
we get into the hand-to-hand shit, the 'Plan' is over, and this becomes
Owen's show /only/."

Seeker says "I volunteer to watch the shooters."

Roger looks towards Seeker and nods. "I would be honored."

Alicia lightly clears her throat. "I guess I'll be hanging back and healing."

John grunts quickly, "Done, then. Alright. Let's move out."

Fights-For-Hope notes, ~I am a healer as well as a fighter. I will hang back
and protect the snipers. Any who need healing will get to Alicia or myself
if possible.~

Jarred stands at the command and picks up the coat he had draped over the
back of the chair.

Jamethon shifts back to homid now that plans are made and they are on their
way.

Kaz looks around. "So we got me and Roger an' Salem, an' John an' Seeker
guardin' Rog' and Owen an' Jarred guardin' Salem. Jame an' Alicia stickin'
back. An' Yi doin' stuff that Yi does. Let's get outta here."

Owen starts clapping his hands. "Alright folks, let's move it. I fully
expect to see you all here again afterwards 'cause no one's allowed to die,
got it? Someone dies, I swear I'll make a fetish out of your hide."

"Hey Owen, if I end up kicking the bucket and you turn me into a fetish,
make sure its a kick ass one, cuz' if you turn me into some kinda pussy
healing thing, I'll haunt ya or some shit." Alicia says with a quirky grin
on her face, pushing off the wall and heading after them.

Jarred puts on his coat wordlessly and follows the big Get.

Yi just drifts along the edges, a ghost of a newmoon waiting to wreak havoc
as she was designed to.


[Scene change.]


Once the vans are positioned nicely -- that is, pointing back the way they
/came/ -- Kaz heads for the small valley they'd picked out. Clear enough to
see things, but also enabling them not to be approached from the rear, at
least.

Roger prepares to deploy his RC truck. Flicking a switch on the large remote
control a screen on it lights up, fed a signal from the camera on the RC
car.

Roger places the truck on the ground and lets it get a bit ahead of the
group before they continue on, keeping an eye on what the truck sees.

Salem glances over his shoulder at Owen, briefly, then follows Roger, the
Soviet rifle hanging from a strap over his shoulder. The scope's on -- as is
the safety, since the weapon's loaded. Belt pouches contain replacement
ammunition.

Jarred sticks fairly close to Owen and Salem, watching for movement from
behind and to the sides of them in the distance. His dark form and clothing
make him seem to melt into the shadow of the trees.

Heading off a bit to the north as she follows behind the shooters, Alicia
reaches out with her sixth sense, sniffing a bit at the air, trying to get a
feel if the tainted touch is close or not.

Alicia dipping her head a bit, she glances over towards Seeker, touching her
nose, lightly shaking her head.

Seeker nods to Alicia.

The metis, situated right out in the open, in a semi-canyon, throws back her
head and sings. It's a wordless cry, somehow wrong, and it's sustained,
almost alien, and grates on the senses.

The small remote control car is on point about ten feet ahead of Kaz,
watching and waiting.

Salem finds a spot where he can see down into the valley without being too
easily seen himself and settles down, using a fallen log as a prop for the
barrel of the rifle. Almost as an afterthought, he flicks the safety off.
Owen keeps his position just behind Salem even after they find their vantage
point, one shotgun at the ready as he keep an eye on their surroundings as
things get started. Jarred as well keeps close to both Salem and Owen. John
simply follows quietly - weapons not yet readied, but his entire posture
alert. Roger is moving into location to get a good sniper vantage point as
well as situate himself with the remote control car.

Seeker shifts to the warform, his kopsh sliding into his hand. He paces back
and forth on the rear perimeter behind the snipers, alternating his
attention between Kaz and the rear flank. Yi sets up her position, hidden in
the bushes in the eastern edge of the valley. She is the closest to the
vans, and watches the group's back while waiting for Kaz's call to issue
forth. Fights-for-Hope ranges to the south, keeping within visual range. He
scans the area carefully, keeping watch to make sure the others don't get
surrounded. Tightening the grip on her guns, Alicia silently keeps her
position, close to the pack, but far enough to scan the northern territory.
Her features are set in stone, serious, ready to call to the others if need
be.

The galliard's call to the Wyrm echoes up through the valley and out in
every direction, summoning Wyrm creatures near and far to come and play. The
call continues for a few seconds with no results. 30 seconds. A minute. Two
minutes. Three minutes. Five minutes. Nothing.

One Kaz cuts off the sound, she simply sets herself, and waits. Patiently.
Surprisingly patiently.

A few more minutes pass, then a few additional more. In the distance towards
the east, a rustling in the forest can be heard as it draws nearer.

Kaz attempts not to tap her feet.

The rustling and twig snapping grows louder and suddenly a series of
unearthly screams rush out through the trees in the forest, approaching at a
tremendous speed, and stabbing directly into the midsts of the Garou.
Seeker, Jamethon, Jarred, Roger, and Salem are struck dead-on with arrows
that had absolutely no right to have flown in the impossible flight paths
they just took. A single crinos then rushes out from the treeline carrying a
spear and painted up like an indian.

Kaz, bait, waits, poised.

Seeker snarls in pain as the arrow strikes him, but he ignores the wound for
the moment. He stands his ground, ready to defend the snipers from attack
from behind. Yi focuses her attention on the surroundings, waiting for the
other reinforcements that undoubtedly should end up coming. She relaxes her
muscles, lining up her scope for a shot to the crinos Dancer's head.
Fights-For-Hope roars in pain from the sudden strike and wheels to face the
direction the shot came from, crouching down low to lessen the target that
he makes and calls on a force of will to push away the pain. As the indian
looking Garou comes barreling down towards them, Alicia crouches down as
well, pointing the barrels of both guns and waiting for what shall surely
come from behind the other. Refuge just nearly behind a tree hopes to
provide efficient cover.

Jarred's teeth clench as he is struck with the arrow. He cries out, but
muffles his own voice to prevent himself from further giving away his
group's location. He sinks to his knees, pawing at the wound in an attempt
to remove the missile. Salem bites down on a strangled snarl of pain. But,
lacking orders, he doesn't break or move from his cover. For a moment, he
trains the rifle on the lone Crinos, and then shifts it toward the direction
from which the arrows came. Owen is quick to correct Salem, muttering, "You
take out what you see." Roger growls out and hits glabro almost immediately,
the small car he controls suddenly blazing forward at the indian-looking
mother fucker. When it gets close enough to do the kind of damage it was
meant to, the toy will spectacularly explode. John continues his vigilance
for Salem's cover as well.

The painted crinos continues the charge towards Kaz. Closer. Closer. Closer.
Then it disappears into a cloud of inky blackness that suddenly erupts all
around it, stopping mere yards in front of Kaz. From the treelines,
additional inky black clouds of utter blackness belch forth, obfuscating all
vision of what might lie beyond. The twangs of multiple bows can be heard
coming from the tree lines. Arrows, not screaming this time, fly up into
high arcs to decend on the garou in mere seconds.

Salem doesn't take his eye away from the rifle-sight, but mutters low, as
the RC car moves in for the kill, "Roger's got it." His lips are peeled back
from his teeth, and there's an irritated undertone in his voice that may
very well be attributed to pain and/or an estimation of odds that's becoming
increasingly pessimistic. As the shrouds of Wyrmy darkness go up, he mutters
a curse in Serbian, then adds, "Artillery. Should have brought mortars."
Roger heads for the thickest overhed folliage he can and makes the truck
drive forward about 10 feet more, detonating it then, hopeing for the best.
He then ditches the controler and hits lupus form. Owen takes a step back to
use the cover of a tree. "Take your shot then, Salem," he grunts through
clenched teeth. "These are fallen Uktena, not just Dancers. Take your damn
shot and lets move out." Jarred manages to remove the arrow that so rudely
struck him a moment ago but instead of discarding it, he keeps it. John
scowls at the overall look of this little raid.

Seeker tries to listen for the arrows as they whistle through the air,
compensating for his monocular vision and the night's darkness. He relies on
his ears to tell him when the arrows near the target and his superhuman
speed to try to block them with his kopsh before they hit. Yi grits her
teeth with the sound of twangs, and ducks beside a tree, crouched by a set
of bushes. Her shot scoping is aborted quickly, as the Gnawer glances
upwards and scans the treeline. She waits for the call to retreat, or the
first gunshot to be fired. When the first remotely dangerous Living thing
appears, she doesn't even wait for a sight. Instinct flows into the rifle,
and she points and shoots emotionlessly. Figuring herself to be safe from
her standpoing behind the tree, Alicia lets loose with both barrels,
spraying the first glob that was approaching, closest to Kaz with her black
talon ammo. Her concentration is fierce, determined to not let the Fostern
moondancer be killed or struck point blank. Fights-For-Hope moves to the
lupus form to make him a smaller target and just waits for the incoming
arrows with a quick prayer to Gaia. During this time he is looking about in
the places not yet touched by the darkness for a target to strike.

Kaz says, "Riiiiighhhht," as she stares into the blackness. After barely a
moment, she lets her bombsuit drop off, and falls down into lupus, darting
off into the woods.

From the blackness just in front of Kaz, there's a loud explosion followed
by a scream of pain. Alicia's gunshot echoes over the valley, but there's no
telling if the bullets hit anything within the large black cloud. The arrows
launched earlier begin their descent, most of them heading towards Kaz. One
manages to strike the galliard in the arm and another lands 20 feet in front
of her retreat and bursts into flames on impact. The ground around it
immediately catches fire. Not an immediate threat yet and not terribly
difficult to get around, but it illuminates the valley nearby and Kaz stands
out as an easy target for ranged weaponry. The nearby patch of darkness is
completely unaffected by the fire's light. More arrows twang from the
blackened woods once more and voices and shouts can be heard. Two additional
crinos, one bearing a spear and another a bow, come out of the woods at a
walking pace--apparently an unwilling walking pace, though. The one with the
bow has an arrow notched, drawn, and is looking for a target. The black
cloud apparently obscures Kaz from his vision.

As Kaz diverts to gallop /around/ the fire, a fairly large chunk of water
appears over it, splashing down with a soft sound. She doesn't look to be
running with much control, especially not after she gets shot with another
arrow. Pain and night blindness, two great tastes to be avoided completely.

Seeker crouches, making himself less of a target for the archers. He scans
the area behind the shooters, trying to make sure there aren't any Dancers
trying to sneak around behind them. Yi watches this fold out from her spot
in the west woods. With one last look west in the direction of the vans, she
sights down her rifle, flipping on the laser sight briefly to the
spear-wielding crinos' head, and steadies. She squeezes the trigger, with a
quick mental prayer for it to fly its quick, lethal path. Once her shot is
off, she doesn't wait to see the result. Already, on the move to a different
spot. All the while, she ducks and dodges behind trees, weaves around
bushes, gun readied to fire again. Keeping behind the refuge of her tree,
Alicia continues to fire, this time using her deadly bullets to soar towards
the arrow wielding Spiral, aiming chest and stomach high. With hope, her
crouched form and the thick bushes will give her enough cover to make her a
hard target herself. Fights runs up towards Kaz now, powering forward as he
surges into his insanly massive crinos form. ~Get out of here!~ He screams
to Kaz, taking her place as the obvious target. Only when Kaz gets past him
does he turn to retreat himself.

Salem is about to mutter a retort when the two Dancers come into view. He
takes in a breath, holds it to aim at the head of the archer, and pulls the
trigger. The Walker Philodox works the bolt immediately after, ejecting the
shell and bringing the next bullet into position with precise,
well-practiced motions. Owen grunts, approving of the shot Salem takes. "See
to it that it's a kill. Injuries are a waste of time. Then pull back." He
then takes a thumb and finger to his lips and whistles loud and shrill,
signalling a withdrawal. Roger surges back to glabro now, covered by the
tree and pulls his assualt rifle loaded with armor-piercing incendiary
bullets. Turning the tree he looks for one of the two crinos and with deadly
aim that befits a Glass Walker trained in handling guns since pratically
birth, immediately emptys all 43 bullets in it in a full-auto hailing cloud
of bullets. This done Roger is getting the fuck out of there and turns to
run. Jarred stays put until the retreat is called, falling back as ordered.
John gets up and brings the two weapons in his hands to the ready. The
nearest targets with visible ranged weapons are sighted, and shots squeezed
off with precision. No bursts. He hits the ground immediately after, and
grunts to his companions, "Gonna try get Kaz some cover. Meet you at the
vans, ladies."

Another volley of arrows rain from the sky all around Kaz as she flees, one
just nicking her leg enough to require a few stitches later--if Garou were
to use stitches. More twangs as additional arrows are launched from the
extreme range. Kaz should make it to the trees before these hit if she hoofs
it. Yi's bullet not only misses, but misses incredibly. The bullet ricochets
of a tree trunk and whizzes between Jamethon and Kaz's heads. Alicia's
handguns, at her extreme distance, manage to hit absolutely nothing but the
dirt around the two dancers that stepped free of the trees seconds ago.
Salem and his old rifle have more success than Yi, and the Walker's bullet
takes a chunk from the bow-wielding BSD. His arrow goes off wild and
ineffectually.

Kaz snarls vaguely at Jamethon as she, indeed, hoofs it toward the woods and
the vans.

Roger's assault weapon opens up with a cacophany of shells and miniature
explosions, muzzle flashes popping off faster than you can keep count. The
gun's recoil makes it go wild as the sustained burst continues and both the
downrange garou immediately drop to the ground for cover. It's difficult to
tell where all those bullets went, but some of them probably found homes.
Glowing red dots litter the ground where the bullets went and a few small
fires begin to start. John's bullets are lost in the hailstorm of bullets,
and whether they hit or missed is pretty darn impossible to determine. One
thing's for sure, no one's going to pass these noises off as simply a hunter
out at night.

Kaz keeps running.

Roger throws the ammonia canister over his shoulder far behind him as close
to the possible fires as his glabro arm can get them.

Owen mouths a 'Holy shit' at Roger's little trigger frenzy. There will be
talk after this. He whistles again to usher those still lollygagging around
to hurry up and move it. He in fact takes the rear to make sure they are
going. Salem, with the retreat underway and his shot made, pushes to his
feet with a snarl, burning his way up to Glabro form; he leaves his cover
and, keeping low, joins the strategic withdrawal. Jarred heads for the vans
as well. John continues to hoof it, running towards the vans and trusting
that those behind him are doing the same. He looks over his shoulder
occasionally, to get a good look at the pursuers. If there are any within
range, they're getting a quick few rounds of silver and black talon...

As the Garou from the Sept Formerly Known As The Hidden Walk make good their
escape, arrows continue to drop from the sky. Fortunately the range is
fairly extreme and none of them do any serious damage, most striking the
nearby trees. As the last Garou leaves the vicinity, more shapes can be seen
moving in the distance as the real horde begins to arrive in clearly
overwhelming force. You continue to beat feet, realizing that being cut off
at this point will mean your very certain deaths.

Seeker holds his ground as the others retreat, waiting until everyone is off
the battlefield safely before using his gift of speed to escape. Taking the
initiave to turn and beat feet, Alicia shifts down to her own Hispo form as
well, blazing her way back down the escape route. Its obvious everyone is
taking off. To the woods she goes. Yi hotfoots it west when the whistle goes
up, keeping in time and plotting out a course towards the vans. She pauses
to shift forms to hispo, not caring about the trenchcoat given to her at
this point tears into pieces. The safety already flipped on the rifle, she
clutches the gun in her jaws and runs towards the vans. The gun gets thrown
in the back, with the Gnawer shifting back to her birth form and pulling out
her more reliable knives, not caring about the trenchcoat given to her at
this point -which- tears into pieces.