Haunted House [Storyline Continued][ATTN: Damon, Kai, Jacqui]
More often than not red was the banner that dashed across battlefield surfaces. Enough so that entire Tribes gained their namesake from the color. In this cold, musty old basement, though, the color of carnage was green and black. A swarm was trying to grow in the corner of the basement, lost hikers and campers gone astray tucked away into pods to pickle and grow into some terrible foot soldier of the Wyrm. Some had hatched, but the Garou had arrived in time to take out the growing Fomor-beasts waiting for their turn to rise and fight.

Set to it, the Ahroun in charge had growled to the Ragabash guide.

Hold the line was the order for the rest. Erich Son of Rage stood along with Avery Radiant Honor and Morgan Firebrand, all known in the city for their unforgiving strength in battle, some names older and more iron than others (but a new roar of flame was a roar heard all the same, yes?).

They held the line, all right. As green-skinned slime-slicked soldiers with bulging black eyes and black needles for teeth and claws came to defend the nest the two Ahrouns and Philodox tore through them with ease. Their blood was dark dark dark, and seemed green only when the light pouring from the chest of the Radiant Honor hit it just right. It coated the walls and staircase entirely.

Meanwhile, as the great Gaian warriors ripped through bodies limb and torso alike, Little Uproar rushed upon a cluster of pods. They were glued together by the sludge that stuck them against the wall and floor alike, and those that hadn't already burst open bulged barely transparent enough to see the shapes of the monstrosities that grew within. She was to ruin them, to take advantage of their helpless state and ensure that they wouldn't join their brothers and sisters in battle to defend this Hell House in the mountains. Trusty knife grasped in one big gold-furred hand, she had sliced two pods open in one clean swipe.

Then, pop!-pop!, twin explosions of astounding force that set off a chain reaction of force through the nest. The job had been done quickly, no more of these Pod People would arise, but the cost had been a full-force explosion of sickly clumping yellow-green waste that scalded and burned whatever it touched. The frontline warriors were fine, but the Fianna Ragabash had been burned savagely by the acidic flood, along her front and neck and mouth.

Saved by a Queenly Silver Fang, an Angel radiating Luna's Light (a talen, gifted by Avery), the Fianna was soon back on her feet, and the assault continued up through the house.

Upstairs, where poor Morgan had snatched up a Pod Person in her jaws and in her enthusiasm to throw him terribly had instead flung herself into the wall and doorframe entering the second level of the home. Her embarrassment would be astounding-- no young Ahroun liked to lay dizzy and Rage-hot with shame while their ranking superior stood over them and took hits from the enemy on their behalf. She would have time to process that embarrassment later, though. There were still more enemies within, Erich would report through his link with Gaia and the awareness that granted.

There had been four more PodPeople upstairs total, and all of them were torn through as easily as the rest. They had no doubt done a wonderful job of keeping wandering human adventurers and officials at bay from investigating the mystery of this terrible old house, but they were no match against a seasoned Garou mission pack.

Ultimately, they found themselves in what was once a formal dining room with no more foes to be seen, the remains of the last two slime-skined soldiers at their feet. Erich could tell, he knew there was one more left somewhere in the house, but he couldn't tell where. All was silent, they'd have to span out.


[Okay you guys! Let's get some posts from here-- to see what they'd plan for a search of the house for the last remaining enemy, where they'd check, so on and so on. I'll probably request actual searching dice here in a round or so!]
Well -- every battle couldn't be a precision dance, after all.

Firebrand throws herself bodily into the fray -- and into the wall -- jarring her massive frame enough that she knocks the wind out of her lungs, and a fair amount of injury into her body in the process. In the red wolf's defense, she doesn't stay down long despite the Fostern Ahroun taking blows for her while she's disorientated.

Or perhaps precisely for this reason. Morgan roars and throws herself on one of the remaining Pod People, her teeth snapping and tearing, claws raking through the air. Dust tumbles down from the roof, plaster is shaken loose and when all is said and down, there's a bloody mess at their feet and the Fianna snorts out her mingled pleasure and irritation at the sight, a bloody gash in her side oozing slowly.

Still, she shakes her fur out and bodily nudges into Goldie. In another form, it might have been a friendly hey you cool?.
Really, in retrospect, Erich sees how telling Goldie to pop all them pods as fast as Garouly possible wasn't the best idea. But in the heat of the moment it seemed like a good idea and then SPLOOSH and then they were all acid-burned but, hey, it worked out. Sort of. And couple seconds later the last of the pod-people are dead on the ground and Erich is rumbling about on his enormous hindpaws to survey the damage.

Everyone's alive. Everyone's more or less well, though that's in part due to healing. Still. Counts as a victory in Erich's book. He whuffs, pleased, and then turns his long muzzle toward the stairs.

Anyone see a Lady in White? I didn't see one. Bet she's still out there. We're gonna have to go up and look for her, but these stairs aren't gonna support our weight and I don't like the idea of us going up one by one in a small form.


His tail is wagging. Quite happily.
[Guys, I'm sorry -- some RL stuff blew up.]

Avery is pleased with herself. She sways slightly to the side, paws crossing and uncrossing, an odd little dance in hispo. She wags her tail, thick and fluffy despite the spray of Gaia-knows-what that came from those pods. She chuffs a no to Erich's question, then gives a little hop.

House fall down?

-- that is what she says. Asks. Cautions. Celebrates. More or less.
my whole life is thunder.
[[ Sorry you guys! I get really busy during my weeks with my kiddlet. I sat here trying to think of the very best way to finish this and frankly the forums probably aren't gonna be great for this conclusion-- especially since I'm hoping to finish this with minimal dicing if possible (which means that plenty of OOC understanding and cooperation will be required

Let's figure a date to try and get together and get this finished. I, personally, can make most evenings this upcoming week, provided it's around/after 6pm site time. The weekend opens my availability up a lot more.

In the meantime, here's a post! ]]


Dust was all that stirred in the air-- motes disturbed by the ruffle of Hispo-wolf fur and the deep bassy notes of growls and rumbles as the makeshift pack deliberated their next move.

The stairs managed to miraculously hold them up when they'd ascended from the basement-- perhaps the war forms tore up after the enemies with such righteousness that Gaia saw fit to carry them over the stairs, to help brace them to support her children for that time.

The stairs headed upstairs, though, to the second flight? They were narrow and curved their way up along the wall near the front of the house. Didn't appear to be supported by nearly so much as rotting old beams braced against the wall. The rot in the wood could be smelled even by seasonally stuffy human noses-- Erich was right, they wouldn't support them.

He recommended that they bust through the floor, and the Philodox leveled that with a point-- the house could fall down if they started busting even more holes in the structure. The Fianna had been good to let the pair of Fosterns lead up to this point-- even the Ragabash, who temporarily had much of her face scalded away by bile-acid by the decisions made, wasn't being argumentative or contrary.

Goldie had whuffed an affirmative to Firebrand when bumped into, inquired if she was okay. She'd have time to process the terrifying sensation of having your skin melted off and regrown again later, for now the Ragabash was still running on the adrenaline that may as well be a drip feed in any Garou's life. She was still in Crinos, and lifted her big head toward the ceiling to peer upstairs.

You don't catch ghosts with teeth.

She whuffed the obvious, but the message was more than the statement alone-- this was a tracking sort of hunt, not a charge and barrel kind. A big pink tongue swiped over her dark snout, and she looked back at the others and explained:

Might not even be here. Saw her leave the house when I was scouting. Can search? Stake out for her return if she's not here?
[OOC: I am pretty loose when it comes to availability just now! I'm usually online after about 6-7PM site time I think? So nab me whenever/if everyone is around and I'll be good to go. Smile ]
[That's about my availability also. Can't do Thursday nights but otherwise I can do stuff around 6/7 PM site.]
my whole life is thunder.

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