Perfect! Thanks, Matt will fall in the same place he posted in the next round after Emily, before Road. Hector is up.
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Perfect! Thanks, Matt will fall in the same place he posted in the next round after Emily, before Road. Hector is up.
Ruach liked this post
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We're rapidly approaching the 30 day mark for this thread. Unless someone has a dope gift they've been waiting for just this an occasion such is this, I'd like to go ahead and wrap this thread up after Hector's post and open a new one this weekend so that Kelreth can join the hunt in with Chris. If I don't get any objections I'm going to shut it down this weekend after Hector posts. Thanks guys!
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Hector's snarl is getting louder.
He twist's pivots, launches himself at the little spirit with no thought exposing his flank.
His howl of rage echoes across the Hisil.
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This is a madhouse!
His packmates try to charm or coerce the spirit who clearly cares nothing for it, his alpha bites air with no concern for his defense, and Allen's supposed to do what exactly? He cannot hope to harm the spirit in the material world, and let's not forget there are other Shadow-dwellers of unknown status here.
The Storm Lord turns to Hector "His allies are still around. He will stick to marked paths" He says before adding one final, crucial question "What now?"
Alpha leads, after all, doesn't he?
Allen spends his turn talking
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@Hector 's jaws close down on wisps of ephemera left behind as RWA escapes across the gauntlet. The sound of sirens in the distance gradually lose their tenor. A coyote across the street picks up his head, tilting it slightly as the wolf leaps into action. A trash spirit tumbles down the spiritual roadway. Somewhere in the distance a feeling of thunder rolls, like a storm on the verge of breaking.
We've dropped out of combat, so we've also dropped out of initiative. I'll close this thread on Monday, to give time for any last minute posting.
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Presence
Primal Urge
Danger Sense
Fast Reflexes
Fleet of Foot
The pack is left at the edge of the Tur, looking out onto the wild landscape of the hisil. Motes of confusion and frustrations pop into existence and scurry to float away from the Uratha. They scramble across the street, a coyote eyes them curiously as the tiny spirits run for refuge.
End Scene
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