Presence
Danger Sense
Hector knew places.
Like many homeless people, Hector learned the true layout of the city: the places not to go; the safe places; the places to hide; and the places where one could speak freely. The rumours were also true: there were places that combined all of these qualities - places of danger that, if your luck held, could also be your sanctuary; places that were hidden (often in plain sight) where one could hold secret talks with no fear of rivals or of the cops turning up.
Hector called the Clarion Call together in one such place: a ruined building that was soon to swept up in a redevelopment. The noise of the construction and the odd hours of the work crews had already driven off the addicts, the thieves, and those lacking shelter. Like insects they had scuttled away as the broom of gentrification swept through.
Hector called the bluff. He needed an empty building for one night. It was reasonably close to the cemetery and that made it a logical pick.
So it was here, in the full ambient glow of the industrial machines, that Hector stuffed the wretched rat creature, the Beshelu the pack had captured. He kept it there, within the broken walls of the condemned building, leashed and chained with whatever he could steal or find.
He waited for his pack in his wolf-man form, hirsute limbs holding onto his leashed prisoner. Yellow eyes gleamed at each other across the dimness and the lumpy rubble.
Tristan Hardt Travisc06489 Chris Laurent Kelreth Emily Makerith Xadun
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failure to be scary
