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A sharp bark of laughter. "You've got guts, I'll give you that much. Good for a reminder that nothing is safe. I'll drink to that." He takes a small swig, mindful of the other wolves present, before passing the flask to the next person. "I don't suppose this has the kick to hold its own against our metabolism?"
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Jeremiah looks between Firebringer and Cord. The conversation had made sense though he's not entirely sure how it just shifted to drinking. Though the undertones take him back for a moment. The Crescent looks between the two wolves again before it clicks into place. A good tale. Need to remember that.
Accepting the flask Jeremiah takes a half-pull before passing it on. Something inside telling him this has more to do than just drinks.
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"Aye ah will!"
The Irraka's eyes lit up as the flask was passed around.
"Trick is to remember what is sacred, like. What is really important. It's the land an' its the oaths. An ah mean, Oaths. Oaths and lands, boy. They bind, you dig. Without 'em, yer nuttin'." He stamped his foot for emphasis.
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Daniel accepts the flask from the Irraka, takes two gulps and passes it to the next Urdraga:
"Yep. Just keep doing the right thing and get better at it."
Cord looks at Aeneas, "You are a mystery." Cord then asks, "So, what really happened around here?" He sits down and removes his leather jacket from the backpack he carries, flattens it out and then drapes it over a log.
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"That sounds like it will be a long story." Samantha said as she strolled into the other's presence, a doggie bag from a local restaurant in her hand.
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5 suxx to tell a story
Firebringer gives Samantha a nod, before letting his gaze sweep those gathered. "From the beginning? The Anshega held this city uncontested for over a century. That changed five years ago." He takes a breath, pauses. Letting the gap fill with anticipation and the obvious question.
"Perhaps you've heard of the Lodge of Scars? That fabled lodge home only to the most ancient and powerful of our heroes? Luna's call came, and two entire packs of Scarred Ones answered. They fell on the city with the ferocity of Urfarah himself, carving out all the land south of the American River and leaving two dozen Pure slain in their wake.
But none joins the ranks of the K'ruuk, who does not wish for a glorious death. And that death indeed found them, to a man. Only Flame of Man survived long enough to pay tribute to the fallen. It ws he who had first received Luna's vision and brought his pack to their final work. Perhaps it was fitting that he be the one to see its first fruits. He sent a call far and wide, for those who would defend the city that had been wrested at such cost.
Eternal Sentry was the first to heed. She found Flame of Man mortally wounded from battles unknown, stories untold. With his last breath, he delivered a warning, to guard the river and Shadow. And so she did, after marking his final resting place a Tur that it was said even the Anshega recognized as sacred."
The elder Cahalith shakes his head sadly with a heavy sigh. "I wish I could end the story there, but our very surroundings cry out that it is unfinished. Many stories could be told of the interim, but there is one which must be told. For the Pure did not allow our claim to stand indefinitely. When their counterattack came, it was swift and final."
The sadness in the storyteller's voice gives way to a smoldering anger. "One pack fled before the axe could fall, abandoning their allies and their vows to vanish into the night. For their cowardice, they are to remain nameless, forgotten in the tales of our people. The Anshega decimated those who stayed behind, destroying totems and loci and defiling Flame of Man's grave. Only the intervention of one-who-chronicles saved the remnants from a swift and violent death -- or a fate far worse.
One pack, however, is still unaccounted for. Of the Justicars, nothing has been heard. But they are elders, and better coordinated than nearly any pack I know. If any have a chance of weathering such an assult, it is they."
Once again his gaze flickers between those present, making eye contact with each. "This story is true. It is a living, breathing entity, and has much time left to it before it will have run its full course. The full extent of the tale will be decided by all our actions."
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Daniel listens attentively, captivated by the story. At that moment, he can almost hear Dave's voice telling him of the Glory and Purity of his previous pack - the one that was no more. He does his best to commit the tale to memory: not a Cahalith or a story-teller himself, he will, at least, be able to recount the facts.
As silence falls, he is the first to reply:
"What has been done here: the blood spilt, the battles fought... It shouldn't be forgotten and can't be just left behind. I will see this to its end with you. The Pure have deserted both Father Wolf's original purpose and Luna's blessings and for that alone they need to be purged from the land. And this story needs to end with blood, some of it - ours."
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