Neutral Ground VI

Nov 24th, 2012 09:52 AM

In Sacramento, the Tur lines lead the children of Father Wolf and Mother Luna to a desolate grave in the Hisil atop a hill. Scratched into the stone are the words 'Here lies Flame-of-Man'. The stone needs no more explanation than that, as it stands vigil across the neutral ground for the three packs of Sacramento.

The trees are barren and leafless, a mark of the fact that Winter is coming, Winter is almost here. Even then, there are some bright sounds. The jingling of silver bells echoes at random, here and there, and there are sudden bursts of cinnamon and clove in the air. The skies of the Hisil are dark with storm clouds, and brightly coloured lightning flashes in the distance. The scent of snow is crisp and bright in patches, but so is the rougher, redder scent of blood.

Not all mid-Winter festivals are clean and wholesome, and while mankind might be forgetting, the Shadow remembers.

High above, Luna hangs pregnant and bright, glowing with the call of the Cahalunim. It is a moon bright with augury, and the whispers of what may yet be to come.

**John Holt** · Nov 24th, 2012 10:05 AM

A single figure stood beside Flame-of-Man's grave in the Hisil, head bowed out of respect as he silently prayed to Luna in thanks for the strength he had in both body and mind. He also gave thanks to the Uratha that gave his life to cleanse the city of the Pure tribes so many moons ago.

Chaplain would never forget and one day hoped that when his time came, he would be remembered with such devotion.

The Ithaeur stood wearing his black pants and boots, along with his Crusaders vest but with no top, the scars on his forearms visible for all, and the brands upon his body spiralling for all to see. The coming winter was welcome, as was the sounds of the silver bells. It meant Luna would be apparent more often in the sky.

Nov 24th, 2012 10:35 AM

A powerful howl split the cold skies, the echoing song of a Cahalith who was calling out to the Glory of the Moon, and singing with all his might to it. The massive black wolf sprang up to the Tur, resplendent in his silver brands as he raced across the grass, his howls echoing around, singing of the Hunt.

Nothing human could understand that need to sing out like this. If Stefan didn't sing out, the pressure of his visions would long ago have driven him insane. Every night, Luna's blessing made him wake, writhing in a sweat.

As he crested the hill towards the elevated grave, he seamlessly flowed back into his human shape, the heavy pelt becoming flesh and bone. He climbed, seeing the quietness of the area around him, his bare feet leaving no mark on the grass.

A lightning-fast smile flashed across Stefan's lips as he picked out the single figure, with its head bowed in prayer, but he did not interrupt. He simply took a seat on the cool grass, his jeans and sleeveless vest showing off a figure that had, since his first change, become very used to combat.

The Storm Lord's grey eyes closed, and he listened to the winds.

3 successes

**John Holt** · Nov 25th, 2012 12:35 PM

When Chaplain heard the howl, he didn't stir from his prayers but the corners of his mouth did twitch, curling upwards slightly. The song that rang out called to Glory and John could appreciate the feeling behind it. He himself was not an avid howler but recently, he had felt the passion stir within his gut more often than he could previously remember.

Completing his final prayer to Mother Luna, John opened his blue eyes and shivered slightly at the wind and the growing storm clouds. Maybe it was an ominous sign but for now, the Ithaeur would wait and see how events occurred. Turning, he smiled as he saw Stefan sitting upon the grass, walking over to join the Cahalith, crouching down and resting on one knee. However, seeing that the Storm Lord had his own eyes closed, Chaplain remained silent, giving him the space he had just been allowed.

Nov 25th, 2012 01:55 PM

Stefan heard the subtle voices of the Storm, the weather of the Hisil speaking to him as it probably did to no other Uratha in Sacramento. He could hear the howls of it, the cry of Skolis-Ur as the lightning forked in the air. He was the only child of Winter Wolf in the city. He knew that cry better than anyone else did, because as the only child, he was the only one who truly knew the potency of the storm.

He heard Holt's movements and his kneeling, but allowed himself one more moment of communion with the maelstrom before he opened his striking, storm grey eyes.

"Well met, Chaplain."

Sometimes, there were moments where it truly paid to be formal. Here, just the two of them, with Luna high in the sky and poignancy of what they were in the air, was a place where it paid.

1 success to overhear Holt

**John Holt** · Nov 25th, 2012 02:33 PM

It was the eyes that always seemed to catch John's attention and the Ithaeur briefly wondered to what purposes the Storm Lord could put such intense gaze towards. With a nod, Chaplain settled down fully on both knees, allowing his feet to fold under his backside.

"Likewise, Shieldbearer," he said before turning his eyes to the horizon. "A brewing storm, it seems. Rare for this place from what I can recall," the Blood Talon added, considering the Californian weather. A small smile appeared as he turned his own eyes back to Stefan, his tone light. "Although, I am guessing that you have no concern for such weather."

Nov 25th, 2012 02:48 PM

"Not for nothing am I called Storm Lord," Stefan replied, with a warm laugh. "When I was initiated into my tribe, the Storm was far worse than this. A deluge to strip you to your skin. I knelt all night in it, frozen, naked, lightning flashing around me. If I had flinched, I doubt I would have returned to Sacramento in anything larger than a matchbox."

Storm Lord initiations were not secrets. Hiding them away and making them private would have been cowardly, a mark of shame, as if they were afraid of what other tribes would think of them should they see.

"This storm is nothing compared to that. But it... sings to me. It tells Skolis' time is coming."

Stefan liked Holt - in truth, he liked all of the Crusaders. The drive to fight was a noble one indeed. It spoke well to both the Cahalith, and the Iminir in him. Both understood that drive, and had he not been a Seeker, he probably would have sought to join it, to avenge himself for his parentage, and the loss of his family.

**John Holt** · Nov 26th, 2012 05:16 PM

John listened to the words of Stefan, a man who had been around much longer than he. It was always enlightening to listen to those who are considered higher, so much history, knowledge that could possibly be lost with one wrong hunt. The thought alone was enough to make Chaplain shiver.

"May I ask, am I correct in understanding you are the only member of the Storm Lords in Sacramento?" John asked.

Nov 27th, 2012 05:57 PM

With the confident walk of one who was both familiar with where they were, and their current place within it, Alejandra strode onto the Tur. She cast her careful, somewhat wary gaze across the space ahead but upon spotting the familiar faces, her manner relaxed a little bit. She could be damned sure nothing would be amiss while her pack brother was around; and though she did not particularly know Holt, nor had she heard anything bad.

And that meant a lot too.

Alejandra raised a hand to the two men, and added a typical, "Hey," as she came to a stop in front of them.

Nov 27th, 2012 08:09 PM

Stefan's eyes held Chaplain's, intense and stormy. Then he gave a nod, the movement expressive. It was a Cahalith's place to tell the history of the city. To sing the songs of the past, so that the city might always remember who had trodden in that place, in times before.

He remembered other wolves, long gone now, slipped away, or else slain in the battle against the Idigam. Those who had not come back...

"I have been the only Storm Lord in Sacramento since my initiation shortly after my First Change. That is true, yes. For some reason, my Tribe don't do well in this city. Perhaps too many of them give into weakness and think themselves Alphas when they are yet unbranded and unproven," the Iminir gave a wry smile, his teeth flashing. Then he raised a hand in greeting to his pack sister.

"Hello, Foestalker. Quiet night, tonight."

Date		Action		Roll		Result
2012-11-24 10:29:43		Stefan Anderson rolls 7 to Presence 3 + Expression 3 + Spec (10 Again)		2, 1, 6, 6, 8, 9, 8		3 successes

Date		Action		Roll		Result
2012-11-25 13:38:28		Stefan Anderson rolls 6 to Wits 3 + Composure 3 (10 Again)		6, 5, 1, 7, 9, 7		1 success

Neutral Ground VI

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