A Prelude to the Howl: Horatio Rose (Jason Weeks)

“Aw fuck,” Kel said. “Stupid tree!”

“Shh.” Billy whispered loudly. “We ain’t s’posed to be here.”

“Who gives a flying turd? There ain’t nobody here.” Kel held tight to the tree bark so as not to fall again. “Ain’t never nobody here. Where is this fuckin’ place anyhow? Tired of steppin’ in dog shit.”

“I think that’s wolf leavings, Kel.”

“Fuck you know about it?”

The two men stumbled forward in the dark, drunk beyond reckoning, each still wearing the bright orange vests from their hunting party earlier in the day. Kelly Anderson and Billy Vickers crashed their way through the forest with the stealth only alcohol can supply. They broke every stray branch, cursed at every stumble, and generally frightened all wildlife within a mile.

“It’s up here, Kel. That’s what the man said.” Billy pointed his loaded shotgun in the direction of an old cabin in the woods, far distant. He gestured with the barrel at his friend’s face. “You really think we should be out here? The man said the dude values his privacy.”

“The ‘dude’ can go fuck your mom. Stop pointin’ that fuckin’ gun at my fuckin’ face!”

“Sorry, Kel.”

Kelly Anderson dug the butt of his rifle down into the wet mud to hold himself upright as he hopped a log. His heel slipped on wet leaves and he fell hard cracking his head on the soggy wood.

“Fuuuuuuuuuuck.”

“I gotta take a piss, Kel.” Billy stepped over his friend oblivious to his pain. He rested the shotgun against in the crook of his arm with expert grace, unzipped, and let fly.

“Uh,” Kelly rolled over onto his hands and knees and shook his head. The pain was dulled by copious amounts of alcohol, but it still disoriented him. He looked up through the bushes, into the woods, directly into a pair of shining eyes not ten yards distant.

“What the shit?” Kel scrambled up, stumbled again, this time over his rifle, and crashed into Billy mid-stream. The two went down in a pile of mud and piss and orange vest.

“Shit Kel, what’s wrong?” Billy jerked his dick back into his pants and rolled away. His gun was around here somewhere. He began looking.

“There’s something…some shit…I saw it.” Kel whispered. “I think I saw it.”

Billy picked up his gun, then Kel’s. “We should take a nap when we get inside. I bet there’s beer, too.”

“Yeah,” Kel mumbled and tried to stop the woods from tilting left and right. “Yeah, a nap.”

Marumi Sampaguita glided through the forest, paws silenced by the thoughts of hatred and death that coursed through his mind. Around him, the echoes of trespassers bounced from tree to tree concealing any sound that he might have made to the point that driving him to even greater anger.

These people did not belong here.

The thought was an undercurrent to his every movement. The smell of alcohol and stupidity radiated from the two hunters and it sickened the wolf who followed them, watched their purposeful stumbling.

“We ain’t s’posed to be here.”

The timing of that statement couldn’t be coincidence and it gave Marumi pause. The moment the trespassers crossed into his marked territory, the body language changed to panic in the smarter of the two. The humans should not have been able to sense the spiritual change. Intriguing, but not enough to quell the violence that flared within the uratha.

When the loudest one fell, Marumi stepped forward and waited to be seen before slipping back into the trees. He watched for a few more moments before stepping heavily through some nearby twigs, letting the crack and rustle make their way through the drunken haze as he disappeared again and watched. These two would know they made a mistake. They would understand that they should not be here. They would fear.

Kelly could not shake the feeling of being watched. Those eyes haunted him. Each time he blinked he saw them staring back.

“Billy, we gotta…”

“Shut your hole, Kel. I’m trying to find a lock on this goddamned door. How do you get into this fucking place?” Billy fumbled about the wooden doorway aimlessly, trying in vain to find a way inside.

Kelly turned his back to his friend and scanned the woods through glassy eyes.

He could see the distant lights of Arsenal to the south. They were up in the foothills, the mountains that would lead to the great Rockies. They weren’t here legally, of course. In fact, as Kelly thought about it, he couldn’t remember why they came.

“Hey Billy, who said we should come up here again?”

Billy kicked the door, hard, and then groaned at the pain in his foot.

“What? Shit, Kel. You did.”

Kelly frowned. He didn’t remember doing that. Even as drunk as he was, he was certain he’d remember a conversation about driving up into the mountains, getting hammered, and trespassing on some unknown’s land.

You remember what I tell you.

“Shit!” Kel fell back against the wood of the lodge and frantically dug heels and palms into the soft earth.

“Fuck is wrong with you, asshat?”

Kel blubbered something about a voice, or started to, when he heard it again.

You come because I tell you. You drink because I tell you. You stand, now, because I tell you.

Kel stood.

You are bait. You draw out the darkness and he is here, now. Your will is no longer needed.

Kel shuddered, fell forward with his hands on his knees, and vomited copious amounts of beer and bile onto the ground.

In the darkness of the woods, the wolf could smell it. Not the stink of the human’s waste, but the beast that rode him. It was the stink of ripe piss sprayed about a territory. The stink of dominance.

The man was ridden. He was Claimed. And the spirit that rode him was powerful.

The wolf could smell the power. He could see it in the subtle shifts and changes. They had been hidden before, disguised by the spirit. There was a gleam in the man’s eyes that caught the moon, just so. His fingernails shone vibrant in the night. He smelled of hated silver.

The wolf understood, then. The spirit was potent. Beyond that of a normal Forsaken to control. It was a creature of dominance. A creature of silver. And a wolf.

It had been sent by the brood of Silver Wolf, by the Ivory Claws.

It had been sent by the Pure.

The Pure.

It was worse than imbeciles with no respect. It was violation by another predator. It was violation of his home by those who were a corruption of what it meant to be uratha. And it wanted him. Well, sometimes it was best to give people what they wanted.

The wolf padded around the edge of the woods and stared hard at ridden man, considering his prey. No matter what, the spirit had to be dealt with. What mattered was how he handled the situation. Fortunately for him, this ambush was sprung in his territory. The Pure and their pet would not leave unscathed if at all.

Without revealing himself, Marumi Sampaguita sniffed the air, checking for anything he may have missed with his distraction. It would not be wise for him to engage one enemy only to be sprung upon by another.

(Warrior’s Eye – 2 successes http://orokos.com/roll/381233)
(Investigation/Ambush – 1 success http://orokos.com/roll/381237)

“Kel! What in the dusty shit are you doing? Can’t you hold your damned drink any – ”

Blood spurted from Billy’s mouth.

The Claimed yanked his arm free. Crimson glinted along the silver tines that protruded from his fingers. He brought one to his lips and licked it clean.

“They told me you were brave. They told me the beast in these woods was cunning and careful, but brave and powerful. They told me you would not shy from confrontation.”

The Claimed grinned from ear to ear. Skin split along his cheeks in a rictus and the wolf in the woods could see the glint of silver on razor teeth.

“They told me you would defend your home form intrusion. Well, little pup, I intrude.” The Claimed released some foul smelling fluid from the human’s bowels. A puddle of hot, alchemical liquid tainted the door of the wolf’s woodland abode.

The Claimed had marked it.

Eyes gleamed as it scanned the woods, but it did not move from its spot.

“They wanted a little reminder to your betters that none of you are safe. Not ever. They bound me, but I would have come willingly. They gave me chiminage, but I would have done it freely. To hunt one of you, so precious a thing. To kill you, so pure.”

The Claimed leaned forward, its neck stretched out to sniff the air.

“I am,” the Claimed spit out words in the First Tongue, then, unintelligible to human tongue. But the wolf understood.

Silver-Cleans-Corruption was the closest translation. It was a spirit of silver, pure and hateful, bound into a brood of dominance. It must belong to a brood that focused their hatred on the Forsaken, or the werewolves as a whole.

“We will come from the mines, unleashed. We will come to purify your souls.”

The Claimed spit acidic silver onto the ground. It clinked its razor claws and gnashed its pure teeth.

“Must I mark your territory further? Or will you come?”




OOC:
- Investigation/Ambush: You neither see nor smell any sign of another being.
- Warrior’s Eye: The Claimed is on par with your fighting prowess, but the silver gives it a dangerous edge that puts it slightly above you.

Fury and hatred coursed through the Forsaken. The monologue was enough to bring his blood to a boil but when his home was violated, marked, he very nearly let himself slip into the Rage.

You are filth.

Rose slipped through the trees silently, his form shifting from wolf to Dalu. He needed hands for this. Rose continued to stalk, his eyes never leaving the spirit that had spilled blood on his doorstep. There was danger here, more than simply facing an aggressive spirit. He was facing a spirit that knew who he was. He was facing one that knew what he was… and how to fight him. That knowledge gave it an edge that was foolish for him to face alone but there was no time. There was no need. Other people were not necessary to protect his home. He would not rely on others today.

Daggers appeared in Rose’s hands, pulled from the belt that was dedicated to him by his former lover. His thoughts flickered dangerously to her face before settling back on the world that truly existed, the stutter in his step imperceptible but echoing deeply within.

I will do this alone. You will die and we will bleed.

He quickly made his way to the opposite side of the small woven cabin and silently made his way up the back wall and onto the roof. He listened carefully to make sure his prey had not moved too far as it waited for him to show. A quick step and a sudden plunge led him off the roof and onto the ridden human, daggers lashing out in what Rose hoped was a surprise attack. Without even waiting to see if he did any damage, the uratha attempted to bolt for the woods.

(Stealth - Feet of the Mist activated while in the woods – 1 Essence)
(Full Moon – Clarity – 1 Essence)
(Stealth/Woods (skill) – 2 successes http://orokos.com/roll/383010 I did something weird so it displayed successes wrong but the dice rolled correctly so I just counted them properly)
(Initiative – 17 - D10+8+5 (dex+weaponary+Clarity) http://orokos.com/roll/383027)
(Spetsnaz rank 4 – 2 attacks, second with -1 penalty)
(Attack 1 – Weaponary/Knives – 2 - http://orokos.com/roll/383024)
(Attack 2 – Weaponary/Knives – 0 - http://orokos.com/roll/383025)

GM Rolls:

Surprise (if any successes are made, target is not surprised and gets Defense; if no successes, target does not get Defense): (Wits+Composure = 7)
0

Initiative: D10+9
12

Perceive Stealth (Investigation + Wits = 1+5)
1 - Fails to beat Stealth Successes.

Attack:
Claw (Silver) 2L + 5 (Str) + 1 (Brawl) = 8Lethal (converted to Agg against Werewolves)
1

Spirit Stats Located Here

The wolf came from darkness. It was on the duguthim in an instant. Blades flashed a hundred different ways and Kelly-Who-Was-Silver screamed more out of frustration than pain.

"Die Half-breed!"

The creature lashed out in wild fury. Its body spun halfway round in the piss and stink it had created at its own feet.

When it reoriented itself, the wolf had vanished. Silver-Cleans-Corruption screeched through teeth in a sound like tinfoil clamped between fillings.

"I'll find you, filth!" The beast stumbled into the woods in the general direction of its enemy cursing the deceptive nature of the prey.

The wolf had come from darkness and returned.

The wolfman bled as he flew through the forest. He knew his scent would not be picked up but his blood would give him away if he was not careful. Fortunately for him, he was always careful. And this was his home. Besides, he wanted the vermin to follow him, just not too closely.

His hand strayed to his upper chest, coming away wet. It was obviously deep, probably to the bone and too many more hits like that would leave him dead, regardless of Luna's blessings. He should get help for this fight and he knew it, just as he knew that he wouldn't.

Asong!

The expletive shot through his mind but he wasn't sure if it was aimed at the silver-tainted monster or himself. Either way, he ran. When he was confident that he had lost his prey, he stopped and waited. Another lunge, safer and more direct than the initial ambush found greater penetration but still he fled before he could be confronted directly. The creature was too dangerous to throw himself at wildly and expect success. It would be inevitable, he could feel Luna trying to pull him into a rage. She wanted him to give in, to fight and conquer or die trying. She cared little whose blood decorated the grass but Rose had a definite preference.

Lunge and retreat, lunge and retreat. Me missed a few times and he was struck once but his prey was now too wounded to give chance and too wary to be caught off-guard. Taking one large klaive in his left hand, the uratha stretched the attached chain taut across his shoulders and back while swinging the other connected blade into his right hand. Now it was time to fight. Now is when the pain would begin. Stepping out of the shadow cast by a large oak, he looked up at the full moon and nodded. The arrogance of the spirit was impressive. Hopefully it would not live up to its own expectations. Just as the monster opened up its mouth to speak, no doubt some taunt or declaration of inevitable victory, Rose reversed grip on both klaives, tips settling against his forearms and spun forward, blades whirling for their target.

<<Impure filth!>>

The strange words in the First Tongue spilled out of the mortal host's mouth with all the clarity of mud. More expletive than language at this point, really. Silver-Cleans-Corruption could not stand it.

"Filthy half-breed! Come and die before your goddess. Come and let me clean your impurity!"

Horatio saw the man that was once Kelly Anderson wiping his palms furiously against his own clothes. The Spirit-Ridden's face twisted up in a mass of disgust.

"Your dirty blood is all over me. All over my pure silver blades. For that you must die in pain, in writhing agony, you mongrel breed!"

The consumed man was lightning fast. On Rose's last lunge and pass, its wicked silver razors moved through wind, through flesh, through muscle and nerve and bone, all with the same fluid motion. Rose felt his blood flow as free as a river down his body. Four long gashes drank deep through his side even as he stepped out to spin his chain and blade.

"Fucking. Filthy. Impure. Filth. DIE!"

Rose's breathing remained as calm as he could keep it. The bleeding was more difficult to keep controlled after the silver had torn through his body.

I am going to die.

The thought was disturbing but seemed justified. He did not want to die but it made sense, he supposed. Still, it would not be alone. He would bring this abomination down as well. This trespasser may be his harbinger of death but it had failed to ask politely and for that, it would not survive. His game of cat and mouse had forced it to continually heal as it chased him through the woods so its essence was short. He hoped. Unfortunately, Rose's own dodging had failed and now the end was going to be a bit more a game of attrition than he hoped. Still, he would fight.

He lunged and withdrew, trying to keep the monster on the defensive as he maneuvered through the woods. One knife spun at the end of the chain and shot forward, scoring a light hit, infuriating the spirit of silver and drawing it closer in its own attack. With an unexpected burst of speed, Rose bound the hand with its silver talons in the length of chain and plunged the blade into the tree beside him. He left his left side open, knowing the pain was going to come and grimaced as silver shot along his face and throat, tearing chunks of flesh away. His attrition tactic took effect as threw the second blade away to the right, only to have it return around the other side of the tree still bound by the chain. The ridden human's deformed hand was near its own throat having finished the swipe, malicious glee and revulsion melding into a horrific mask as it savored its moment of victory. Rose didn't even smile as he thrust the returned blade through that hand, pinning it beside Silver-Cleans-Corruption's throat. He stepped back and fell to the ground exhausted and trying to focus on not bleeding out.

The thing had a choice, now. It could spend its essence to tear through the blades that held it, risking a return strike that would destroy the Spirit in its depleted state. Or it could relinquish the body and escape. Pride versus survival. It was a choice that Rose had already made but had to admit that was second-guessing at this moment. Laying on his back, he eyed the monstrosity and dared it to come after him in his moment of weakness.

Eyes darted rapidly between the pinned blades. Careful calculation sped across the eyes of the Claimed hunter. It breathed, the act a parody of the human motion made worse by lungs full of blood.

<<You are nothing! NOTHING! The mine is opened. You cannot keep us away forever.>>

The First Tongue words spilled out a mouth of mush, but Rose understood.

The wolf saw the spirit's eyes. He saw the fear, deep inside the possessed human pupils. Fear only a creature that thinks itself immortal can get when on the verge of death.

The wolf also saw the focus the spirit had on its own blooded fingers. It couldn't control the human face enough to hide the disgust it felt.

<<Filthy, impure blood.>> Its voice a whisper. Perhaps it had not meant to voice the thought aloud, but its control was near gone.

Silver-Cleans-Corruption gauged the state of its enemy. It knew it could kill him, if it pushed hard. But that might mean its own death.

<<No wolf is worth dying. Another time, filth. Another day.>>

And like that, it was gone.

Kelly Anderson, general douchebag, but not an all around bad guy, fell to his knees, body full of blood and pain. He was going to die. There could be no doubt. His frail human form could not take what had been done to the possessed body.

For one brief second he glanced up at the man with the chain and blade. Started to say something. Choked on blood. Then, in a barely managed whisper:

"Please," he fell hard on his side. "Don't tell them..." his eyes rolled back in his head and he convulsed violently. "...I pissed myself."

He shuddered. He took a last breath and was still.

The monster was gone. Its victim was gone. Both left behind them nothing but pain.

Storyteller Note:

Unless there is more you wish to accomplish here, I think this prelude scene is done.

Definitely warrants the Bonus XP as noted:

Prelude XP