Totem Quest: The Crew
Ears is humming something under her breath as she materializes in the Caern's Umbra. It sounds like something from... Jeckyl and Hyde?

Salem steps across and takes in a deep breath, letting it out slowly.
Then he moves to join the Gnawer, his expression keen with anticipation.

Carries-Fire appears a few moments later. She gives herself a vigorous shake, nose to tailtip, and trots over toward the others.

Last across is Zeke, quiet and thoughtful today. Once over he sidles subtly (not so much) closer to Kaz and slips his hands into the pocket of his dedicated hoodie.

Tradewinds was seated near the umbral waterfall and when the pack-to-be arrives, she rises from a crouch and makes her way in to the Caern's center. ~You are all ready?~

** Sera's Ceremonial staff is capped with several rodent (mostly rat) skulls dangling from strips of leather. There are a pair of owl skulls as well, but they are on the top of the staff. **

Ears's humming clarifies into actual words. ~This is the moment...
This is the time... When the momentum and the moment...Are in rhyme.
This is the moment! Damn all the odds... This day or never, I'll sit forever with the Gods...~ She breaks off her singing once she notices the staff's accoutremonts, but then it rises back up, a humming in the back of her throat. She nods to Sera, affirmatively.

Salem absent-mindedly massages his knuckles and nods as well, giving a glance to the others for confirmation.

Carries-Fire's ears prick, and she gives a low chuff. Yes.

Zeke bobs his head in three quick little beats. He glances over the Strider metis with a curious glance but then turns to the others.

Tradewinds's ears flick back, then forward again, as she regards those before her. ~Gather together,~ she instructs the four Garou, as she begins to carve out a shallow circle in the Umbral ground with the end of her staff. ~Tonight, you four will seek out a Totem and form a pack. There are three spirits that you would happily follow and we shall call on each of them. Invite them to come, to test your worthiness as a pack.~

Ears glances at all three of her packmates in turn, and sidles toward Morgan. She's facing Sera, now, watching. ~Ayup. Rat, and Weasel, and Magpie.~

The circle is made and along the edge of the circle, at equal distances apart, Tradewinds carves out the Glyphs for Rat, Magpie, and Weasel. ~Two of the Totems you seek are Totems of War, they ask for strong teeth, claws, and the willingness to spill blood.~ As these words are said, the coulourful Metis pulls a small silver knife from the pouch on her hip. Ever so carefully, she removes the protective cap on the knife. Next, she pulls out a small bowl. Items in hand, she approaches Kaz first.

Salem moves to stand at Ears' other side. He nods slightly and folds his arms across his chest.

Zeke watches carefully as the ritual preparations are made but remains dead silent. As the knife comes out he reaches up to his hat and tugs it down a little lower.

Ears seems to have been expecting that. She reaches out to take the knife, makes a sharp cut on her upper forearm, indrawing a sharp breath of pain as she does so, and lets the blood flow into the bowl Sera holds. Soon enough, she hands the knife back.

Carries-Fire flattens her ears at the silver. She does not seem terribly thrilled. However, she settles back onto her haunches, waiting.

Tradewinds collects a small amount of blood, reclaims her knife and moves on to Salem next. ~For those who wish to follow the path of War, there must be a willingness to spill blood.~

Salem, like Kaz, seems unsurprised by this request. He accepts the knife without hesitation, jaw clenching briefly as he slices into his forearm. His blood drips into the bowl, mingling with the Gnawer's.

The ritual continues and it is Carries-Fire that Tradewinds offers the knife to next.

Carries-Fire huffs at it, but she slides smoothly into crinos, takes it, and makes a very very very quick cut before she hands it back. /Ewch/. Silver.

The bowl is swiftly being filled, the red fluid swishing around as she approaches Zeke. Once she has collected blood from all four Garou, she drives the knife in to the umbral earth outside the circle. Tradewinds shakes her staff, the dried skulls clicking together dully as she begins to hum in the back of her throat. First, she calls on Rat, praising the Totem's ferocity, stealth, and fearsome bite. ~Those that follow Rat must have all these qualities and in return, he asks that his kin not be harmed.~ Words said, she pours some of the blood in to Rat's Glyph. The blood soaks in to the earth, then the Glyph itself starts to glow.

Ears watches the staff slightly uncomfortably, before muttering, ~Survival, fierceness, an' determination.~

Salem cracks a slight, predatory grin. He has a hand over the cut on his arm, staunching the minor bloodflow.

Next, Tradewinds measured steps carry her over to Weasels Glyph. ~Weasel, like Rat, is a fearsome warrior. But where Rat will strike from the shadows, flee, only to return, to strike again and again. Weasel faces its enemies until they fall, or it falls, its teeth locked in to the flesh of its foe. Another fierce warrior, who does not know the meaning of fear, of surrender, only the thrill of battle and the touch of blood on its lips. Hear me Weasel. Come, view those who would follow your ways and never show fear.~ The last of the blood is poured in to Weasels' Glyph and like Rat's mark, it begins to glow.

Zeke too has a hand over the recent wound, though both his hands are tucked into that pocket again as he watches the proceedings.

Ears's own grin suddenly sparks. She seems to disagree with some of Sera's assessment of Weasel, but all she says is, ~Fierce fucker.~

"Hell yes," says Salem.

Tradewinds sets aside the now empty bowl and moves over to the final Glyph, pressing the end of the staff in to the earth next to it. ~Magpie. Bright chatterer, avid gossip, and sharer of great Wisdom. She does not ask for ferocity and blood, as do Totems of War. Rather, she asks for great news, and secrets, for above all, Magpie is a Gossip. She asks that all her children tell her the secrets that they discover.~ Now, Sera looks directly at the four packmates. ~The great Gossip listens. What secrets can you give her, to prove worthy of her patronage?~ Nictating membranes flash across the Strider's eyes, then she pointedly turns her back on the four other Garou and holds her hands over her ears. The secrets are to be for Magpie, not for the Strider.

Ears thinks about this, and then mutters the name of the Bane under Mount Spokane.

Salem hesitates a moment, his smile fading. He says, quietly, "I still love her." His hand remains on his scarred forearm.

Carries-Fire twitches her ears toward Salem, and then she looks back down at the ground. Thinking. Her tail swishes idly behind her. Then she offers that a big big big part of her wishes she had stayed.

Ears mutters, ~Me too.~ To which statement, it is a mystery.

Zeke listens in quietly to the others before it comes around to being his turn. It takes a moment, but then with a shallow breath he whispers it. "I was sired by a Dancer." That hat gets tugged down a little more just then.

The last Glyph begins to glow, then the entire circle lights up. At first, it is a dull red, then it shifts to a blue, and finally a pure white before fading away. There is a stillness in the air as the Rite is completed, a sense of being watched by many eyes. Tradewinds turns back around and raises her staff above her head. ~The Rite is completed, the Spirits watch. They will test you in your own way. Choose a path and allow your feet and hearts to guide you. No Quest is without purpose and no journey without reward. I wish you luck, in finding what you seek.~


Ears inclines her head to Sera in thanks, and then tests the wind. Nostrils flaring, she pauses a moment, and then just melts into hispo and heads west, limping a little bit, but searching for cues and clues.

Salem follows suit, giving himself a vigorous shake before padding after Kaz. His ears are pricked, his muzzle up.

Carries-Fire trots after the Gnawer, looking as though she expects strange things to start happening at any moment.

It takes Zeke a moment to snap out of his zoning out, and then he drops through his forms and falls into lupus. His first few strides in an awkward gait until he catches up to the others and brings up the rear.

The three garou follow Ears as she heads west. It soon becomes apparent that the familiar surroundings of the Hidden Walk fade far too quickly into a very different, very unfamiliar umbra. The silver and blue tones of Shadow under the full moon soon dull to something darker and grey, where the shapes are vague and unidentifiable. Things move off to the side of the Gnawer's path--things unseen but felt, or heard. And a sense of dread creeps into each of their hearts. Whatever moves or lurks beyond that darkness is not what needs to be followed. So, the Gnawer continues west. Hours pass, and bones begin to get weary.

Ears snorts at the dark and the grey. Her limp, as they go along, gets infinitesimally stronger. She seems to treat the sense of dread as a hint, since she (metaphorically) uses it as a focus, grim determination winning out over nagging negativity.

Scar huffs and snorts, eyeballing the darkness suspiciously. The scarred halfmoon likewise keeps shifting his attention to his would-be packmates, his body language protective.

Carries-Fire speeds up a little, so that she's trailing just behind and to one side of Scar. Occasionally she lifts her head and peers off into that darkness.

Speaks-Up seems quite content in his place at the back of the pack, but he doesn't slack on attentiveness because of it. His ears flicker to and fro and he looks back over his shoulder to gather the scents trailing behind them as they move.

As they continue on, the terrain becomes more and more difficult. Up, down, over crags, and down slopes. It changes from dirt and sand to harder rock, then stone, then concrete. The trees morph into telephone poles, and the landscape shifts from hills to buildings. It is eerily quiet when ears' nose catches a familiar scent. It leads her to a manhole, and upon inspection, she realizes that they actually /are/ in familiar territory--or at least a facsimile of it. The alley seems like the one of East Bridge, and below the manhole, a ladder down into fallout shelter #5. A sense of relief and warmth pervades the Gnawer as the realization hits. It would at least serve as a place to rest.

** Ears Senses Wyrm, and the area appears very very clean. **

Ears looks, for some reason, despite the relief, skeptical. Her nose twitches, and then she relaxes faintly. ~OK, so this /probably/ ain't St. Claire,~ she says, eventually, ~But I think this should be entertainin' to /explore/.~ She glances at Salem. ~Did you ever claim one've th' shelters as turf?~

Scar indicates a negative. ~I've only gone underneath the city a few times.~

Have you been here before Ears? asks the Fury in the back, his steps quickening just a scoche to keep him nicely grouped with the others.

Carries-Fire moves forward to sniff at the manhole.

Ears says, ~Well, I ain't been /here/, no. This bein' the Umbra and a Totem Quest and not actually St. Claire. But it sure /looks like/ the area of Bridge Street I know pretty good. If it maps accurately, there's a fallout shelter down there, makes for good place t'hole up.~ She tilts her head and melts (slowly) into glabro. Hands, you see. "Well. Let's do some explorin'," she mutters, and hauls the manhole up.

"I'll take the rear," Salem says as he shifts to glabro. "In case something decides to bite our ass."

Carries-Fire wrinkles her nose at the smell, and then slides back to homid. Down she goes.

Speaks-Up drifts back to follow the lead of his alpha. He swells up and then down into Glabro, rolling a shoulder back and nodding to Salem's instruction as well. Idly, "Been a long time since I've done this kinda thing."

The ladder down into the shelter is intact. Other than it being dark, and a bit musty and dank, there are no surprises awaiting the four garou as they descend. The hole opens up four feet down into a ten by twelve room. Access to the sewers continues on the opposite side of the ladder from the shelter. The room itself is dry, and empty, however.

Ears asks Zeke, "You do a lotta spelunking in your youth?" she heads down. She scans around, once there, shrugs, and then makes a little clawmark in the wall (her own personal little tag). She peers into the sewers and rummages in her pocket, bringing out, eventually, a flashlight. She doesn't turn it on unless it's really really really impassable otherwise, though. Dark adaption's good.

Salem paces the room's boundaries, touching the walls lightly with his fingertips. At Kaz's question, he looks curiously at Zeke.

Zeke chuckles just a little, the tension breaker apparently much needed. "I meant questing after a totem." As they make their way down, Zeke follows, careful with the clambering.

Morgan rubs her jaw with the back of her knuckles. She looks a little uncertain, all things told.

The Gnawer is right--this isn't St. Claire. There's no foul smell, or even dirt or grime in these sewers, beyond a little standing water and some rust on the pipes. It's near pitch black, so the flashlight helps illuminate. As far as the little light goes, there's nothing to be seen beyond the empty pipes. And that in and of itself would tell the garou they're not in St. Claire. No rats, no slime, no cockroaches. Nothing. It's empty. Like, well, a facsimile of their real world. The deeper they go, the more of the same they find, and the more Kaz's hip hurts from sheer weariness.

Ears mutters, some distance into this, "Jesus Christ, I just want some action," and eventually returns to the shelter. "Let's... git some rest an' do some reconnointerin' later, OK?"

"Makes sense." Salem stretches, then melts down into lupus and lies down near the entryway.

Zeke rubs an arm across his nose and then moves in to find a spot to settle in and call it a night. A deep breath, held briefly and then exhaled, signals his intention to rest.

When last we left our adventurers...

The garou had climbed into the sewers of sudo-St. Claire, done a little exploring, and then decided to rest in the fallout shelter.

The sleeping garou are awoken by a thunderclap--or at least what dream addled garou might suspect to be a thunderclap. But it's louder and more sinister, and it shakes the ground around them. Sand and dirt spill over them as the integrity of the fallout shelter is tested. It feels like an earthquake, but only for a second or two, and then all is still again. Until a second clap of thunder and shaking of the earth rattles them again, throwing Zeke literally against the near wall. And then there can be no mistake, they're being attacked, bombarded it seems. In the distance, similar explosions can be heard, some close and some far, each making the ground and roof tremble, and dust fall. Voices, harsh and chaotic, filter down from the surface into the bunker. Part of the ceiling caves in near Morgan. Another close hit and the whole room will crush in atop them. In fact, the sewer line across the ladder has already collapsed. The only way out is up.

Ears wakes; /as/ she wakes, she falls into crinos. ~The fuck?~ she growls, and then takes in things almost falling on people. On her packmates! She grabs the flashlight that lay next to her (which has moved somewhat in the rumbling) and shines it around, coming to the conclusion that, indeed, ain't no way out but up, and growls, ~People. Move. I take rear-guard.~ (Since, slow.)

Morgan wakes up with a confused, half-awake yelp. She tumbles a bit, guarding her head, before instinct has her sliding into crinos as well, though she remains on all fours and grips the floor with her claws. Her eyes are wide and her ears very, very flat. At Kaz's order, she moves instantly, though she doesn't look thrilled to be moving up toward all that commotion.

Salem, disoriented by the (literally) explosive wakening, focuses on Kaz, then on the hatch upwards. "I'll go first," he says shortly, and does so.

Zeke startles up if not by the booming and thundering, than by the fact he just got jumbled into a wall. He's quite instantly into Crinos then, ears flicking forward and eyes falling on Kaz. He's immediately obedient and as Salem offers first, he falls in just behind Morgan as they move.

One by one, the garou climb up to the surface and emerge. The sky is dark with both cloud and smoke, leaving the day a near perpetual twilight. The buildings of the city are unrecognizable, because most of them are in ruins. Rubble is everywhere in the streets, and fires rage within many of them. Those familiar with World War Two might immediately think of Dresden, though the modern signs and paraphernalia of Americana here make it clear that's not where they are. As they scramble out of the sewers, something moves above them. It blocks out what little there is of the sun, hovers over them a moment, and then continues on. It is metal, long and shiny, like cold steel. A sleek oval husk of a body, with metallic arms and legs--six of them--make it seem by all accounts something that stepped right out of some science fiction magazine. A bolt of blue fire is expelled from a weird looking, oblong ball turret head on one end of it. With a loud crack, the fiery bolt slams into the wall of a building nearby, obliterating half of it. Fire pours from doorways and shattered windows. Screams can be heard from that direction, and people scatter over the street like ants. Smaller bolts begin to rapidly fire from the hovering machines legs, cutting the people down. As a giant explosion lights up the world to the northeast, the garou catch a glimpse of dozens more of the six-legged hoverships all over the sky.

Ears's nose flickers as she reaches the top, and then she looks almost as if she might fall over. ~Fuckin' hell,~ she mutters, finding cover. ~Them things is fuckin' this world up. And they're the Enemy. But just attackin' /one/ of 'em won't change shit, I bet.~

Carries-Fire's wide eyed expression doesn't change one single bit once they're on the surface. She hunkers down, staring after the six legged machine thing.

Salem's eyes widen as a phrase of muttered Serbian escapes him. He bulks upward into Glabro form and follows Ears at a jog. ~No, there are clearly /plenty/ of them.~ He twitches at another explosion.

Speaks-Up winces as they surface, ears flattening against his head as much as they can. He looks around to try and gather in as much immediate information as he can, but is stuttered by rapidly firing explosions.

As Salem takes that first step, the rubble beneath his feet crunches unusually. Looking down, he can see the reason why is it's not rubble but charred bone--the mandible and dome of a crushed skull mixed with everything else. A firefight breaks out in the corpse of a three story building to the south. The hovership above has moved on, but the rumble of an armored vehicle running on black tracks replaces it. The futuristic tank bulldozes right through one emaciated wall, spraying little pin-pricks of blue, machine-gun like fire everywhere. Streaming in behind it are...garou. But it's clear to the Hidden Walk foursome that these are not their brethren. Their fur is mottled. They bear painted designs and tattoos in spirals and webbed patterns. They wear gadgets and carry sleek weapons that spit out the same bolts of blue fire as the tanks and ships above. They seem, without doubt, some bizarre amalgam of Glass Walker and Spiral Dancer. The humans running are cut down in a gleefully absurd and riotous fete. And then, suddenly, from the opposite direction, comes a second group of garou. Rag-tag and dirty, covered in black armor that at least sometimes repels those blue pricks of fire sprayed at them, they swarm out with more primitive weapons--such as stick, knives, swords, and shotguns--and clash with the first group. There's no care given to the Veil. The melee simply spills into the street.

Ears takes all this in, her ears splaying unhappily-- but at the appearance of the Rag Tag Fugitive Fleet, she brightens. ~Awright,~ she mutters, and glances at her packmates. Some unspoken communication goes on in that glance, and then she growls, ~Help them fuckers out.~ And she heads, without a moment's more thought, for the nearest Spiral Walker. Glass Dancer. Enemy.

The prospect of combat seems to ease Carries-Fire quite a bit. She huffs heavily through her nose and then barrels after Ears, though the Fianna moves at just the slightest of angles--she doesn't intend to go after Ears' target so much as any target that happens to be very near it. Guarding the Alpha's flank, as it were.

Salem's canines lengthen as he bares them, fur sprouting and body bulking up as he expands into the war-form. He lopes two-legged alongside Ears for a few paces, then drops to all fours and charges for the Spiral Walker nearest the one targeted by the Gnawer.

Speaks-Up turns toward the rag tag group and licks at his nose for just a moment. Then he's moving to follow Kaz with the intent to help out the ragtaggers by putting claws (if they work) to the heavily armed and marked ones.

Chaos is master for a while. There is screaming and there is blood. Where the rag-tag garou can get in close quarters with the web-tattooed ones, vicious claw and tooth fighting occurs, and blood is sprayed in the grey-dusted ruin of the city. But before they get that close, several of them are cut down by the efficient weapons of the enemy. A bolt of light blue energy whizzes right by Kaz. A second slams into her chest. It stops the Gnawer's progress cold, but doesn't drop her. Carries-Fire's claws rake and nearly disembowel a Dancer that did not see her till she fanned out from behind Kaz. His eyes go wide, spittle flying from his muzzle as he snarls in rage. The cry warns Salem's target, and he spins around to fire at the Hidden Walk garou, but the gun suddenly jams. A thin and wiry garou from the rag-tag group laughs maniacally just as Salem slams into the unfortunate Dancer. Zeke is last into the melee, but the Fury finds a target already fighting one of the native garou and sinks his claws into its back.

Ears slams back into the wall nearby, and then, after a brief moment to collect herself, grits her teeth and dives towards Morgan's target, clearly trying to hamstring him-- and, possibly, to slash at his nether regions, as well.

Scar uses his claws and fangs with savage professionalism on 'his' Dancer, going for as quick a kill as possible without neglecting his own defense.

Carries-Fire whirls, slashing and biting, and making a grab for any of those strange blue fire weapons the Walker Spirals are wielding that may happen to be in reach, though she's not very particular about whether she takes it or simply busts it. Or busts it into someone.

Speaks-Up is encouraged by the feel of his claws sinking into the enemy, and so he curls them deep and pulls back with ferocity. A low growl in his throat as he eyes beyond his current target, just briefly, to keep track of his packmates and their success.

More Walker Spirals seem to come out of the woodwork. Garou are cut down, left and right, by their weapons. But the rag-tag group has victories of its own. They seem to work well as a pack, picking a single target and work together to take it down. In this way, several of the forward Dancers have gone down, and now Ears' slash successfully tears a huge chunk of flesh from the victim. If his high-pitched scream is any gauge to go by, he won't be breeding anytime soon. Carries-Fire grabs the thing's weapon, and immediately there is an exciting thrum that seems to pulse through her. The intent to smash the weapon into her enemy's skull is thwarted by a much more seductive and overpowering desire to turn the weapon on her friends. For a moment the muzzle of the weapon is spun around and aimed at Speaks-Up. If it were not for the Fury's excellent perception, he might be nothing more than a stain on the wall, but he ducks and only two of those bolts graze his shoulder. The rest of the spray of blue fire moves right over his head and creates a line of blackened holes in the alley wall. Scar's enemy is dispatched efficiently, his fangs severing an artery that leaves him awash in the Dancer's blood.

Ears, being as the Dancer is disarmed and, presumably, mourning his fate, takes this in and tries womanfully to disarm Morgan. That is, to get the weapon away from her, not remove her arm.

Speaks-Up snarls and ducks low as that near miss comes his way. He drops his last target and moves then, looking to regroup with Ears both to aid her with Morgan if needed as well as keep her flank guarded while she deals with the Fianna.

Scar lets the Dancer's body drop unceremoniously to the ground and turns toward the others. His ears pull backward as he takes in the situation and he moves to join them, flanking 'round Kaz's opposite side and ready to get violent with any enemy that gets too close.

Carries-Fire looks absolutely /alarmed/, but as Ears moves toward her, she yelps and--instead of giving the weapon over--twists away from the Gnawer and attempts to fling it as far and as hard as she can. ~Don't touch them!~

As the body drops away from Scar another steps into the void he created. He foregoes the use of his Weavery weapons and simply attacks with tooth and claw. The two dance, vicious snarls and strikes moving by so fast that the entire combat is nothing but a violent blur. From behind him, Scar can hear an oddly familiar voice yell out, ~Duck!~ Carries-Fire tosses the weapon several meters, and it clanks against the armor of the tank. As if the thing were simply /bloodthirsty/, the jarring hit triggers a burst of fire that somehow sprays into the jugular of one of the Dancers on the tank. It gives a gargled scream of frustration at dying in such an ignominious way. Meanwhile, blood seeps profusely from Speaks-Up's wounds, but he stands his ground, and his look-out prowess proves valuable as he sees another wave of Dancers coming from behind them, beyond the sewer they came up from. They're about to be cut off.

Speaks-Up lets out a snarl and points in the direction of the incoming trouble. ~Another wave is coming, we'll get pinned in here!~ he growls out so that the others can hear and see what he's talking about.

At the yell behind him, Scar drops automatically to the ground. Reflex.

Ears, who pulled her swing once Morgan got control, looks dismayed at Zeke's cry, as she gets a good look at what he means. ~Hey,~ she snarls at the nearest rag-tag Gaian Garou, ~We -- all of us -- gotta book it. C'mon! Before we fuckin' die out here.~

Carries-Fire jumps several times at the chaos her gun throw caused, but there isn't much time for her to be either sorry or think about it too much. Instead she returns to guarding Ears's flank, all four arms raised and ready.

The wiry fellow that used Jam Tech earlier, acknowledges Kaz and lets out an eerie howl that immediately recalls his troops. He offers a hand to Kaz, and even as he does a spray of blue fire riddles both him and Kaz. Both go down, and immediately the rag Tag garou surround and collect their wounded, another of their team leading them back into the burned out building they originally emerged from. ~Down!~ the leader yells, and one by one they scuttle down into trap doors that lead deep under the ground. As Scar ducks, the dancer he's fighting gets two barrels of sawed off shotgun in his face. Bits of the Dancer pelt Scar in a morbid bloody rain. As he lifts his head to see who called to him, he sees, looming above him, a pale-skinned, athletic young woman with liberal freckles. Someone he knows oh, so well. She has an enigmatic and amused smile, despite the chaos, and in her softly lilting southern accent, she says, ~Nice reflexes, Sugar.~ Then, as the call goes out, she disappears. He catches a glimpse of a gold page-boy wig as it slips underground with some of the others. One of the Rag Tags is left behind, and just as the Dancers and the tanks close in, he tosses a satchel beneath the closest tank. For a moment there's complete silence, and then the world erupts in light and fire.

Ears falls, almost limp, to the ground; helped up by Morgan, she makes it to the trapdoors and follows the other Gaians.

Scar, dusty and bloody, stares after the freckled woman as he picks himself up off the ground. He shakes his head sharply and lopes after the others.

Carries-Fire, the only one of the proto pack who doesn't seem to have suffered any damage, holds up under Ears well enough.

Speaks-Up flashes his tongue up over nose and muzzle and the moves in after the others too, eyes and ears still watchful.

The trap doors do indeed lead /down/. There's a ladder at first, but after about ten feet, there's a widening of the opening--into a rough-hewn chamber. In the chamber, there are man-made 'holes'. It's obvious they're man-made, because they're perfectly cylindrical and made from metal. They appear to be simple chutes, like drainage run-off tunnels, only they lead mostly straight down. Each of the Rag-Tag garou simply pick one and throw themselves down. Like some bizarre underground waterslide, they slope downward, and the garou pick up speed as they slip through them. Careful pressure on the walls can keep one from falling /too/ fast.

Ears hesitates just briefly and then hurls herself after them. She who hesitates is lost.

Carries-Fire whines, but she goes in right behind Ears. She is /not/ thrilled by this. Her wordless complaints can be heard all the way down.

Scar wrinkles his muzzle but hesitates only slightly longer than Ears.

Speaks-Up huffs a little as he makes his way down, panting as he watches the others. A narrowed gaze of furred brows and then he too goes down, pushing arms out to the side like a child afraid of hitting the pool too fast at the end of the ride.

The garou slip and slide and Carries-Fire tumbles, howling all the way down. Ears emerges first, tumbling into a piles of old and beat up mattresses. Carries-Fire lands half on top of her. Scar comes down a different chute, and he lands with a thud into what appear to be a pile of couch cushions. Speaks-Up tumbles out last, landing on the other side of Carries-Fire. All of the garou are in a vast underground chamber, only some of which is natural. Part of it is chiseled and man-made, and part appears to be natural lime-stone cave. There are plenty of the other garou milling around, tending to wounded, and disappearing down various tunnels that lead outward. There are even more that sit like armed Sentinels near every chute entrance, a wolf--or a garou in lupus--beside them. Every time someone comes down, a shotgun is aimed at them, and the lupus sniffs them. If they're cleared, the guns are raised.

Ears oofs onto the mattress, and then oofs even more when Zeke lands on her. ~Ow,~ she says, pathetically, before managing (barely) to look around. At the guns, she raises her paws immediately. ~I'm just a metis, I ain't the enemy.~

Scar reverts to homid form as he picks himself up off the cushions and side-steps over to join his companions. He looks around, taking in the various other Garou. Looking for /her/, maybe?

Speaks-Up, likewise, follows Ears lead, wincing and repeating the same. His eyes though stay open and he starts taking in this underground shelter with wide amazement. He turns then to Ears to look her over, ~You alright?~

Carries-Fire quivers a little as she stands up, but the moment rather quickly passes. She too, noses over toward Ears, and lifts one hand--one of the lower ones. ~You want me to help?~

The shotgun leveled at Ears lowers only when the wolf beside the Sentinel informs him she's telling the truth. ~You need a healer?~ Comes a voice behind her. He's an average looking garou. Tawny fur and almost floppy ears. Before Ears can answer, the second-in-command from the topside attack steps in. When he does, the tawny-furred garou draws away. ~Who are you people?~ He the commander asks. ~Scavengers? Prattlers? The Crew? What? You sure ain't Bloods.~ Other 'soldiers' start to collect around this 'commander', and one thing the Hidden Walk garou notice is the black armor they wear all carries a blood red mark on the shoulders in the shape of a little bug. Scar has no luck in catching sight of the girl, in that first perusal.

~We ain't from around here,~ Kaz says, in answer to the second-in-command, slowly lowering her paws, and falling (with difficulty) into homid. "So if you're askin' gang affiliation, we ain't got one. I'm one've Rat's crew, but we're all different tribes, in my pack." To the tawny-furred one, she says, somewhat sheepishly, "Appreciate it, if you got the energy."

Carries-Fire drops into a crouch. Her nostrils twitch idly.

"These attacks happen often?" asks Salem, giving up his eye-search to focus on the conversation at hand.

Speaks-Up simply settles close to Kaz, both protectively and perhaps for his own reassurance. While the bosses talk, he lets his eyes wander.

The tawny one obligingly comes forward again to lay his hands on Ears. The familiar warmth of a Gaian's touch starts to knit the Gnawer's wounds. The whole time, the commander continues to study them, and what he sees and hears seem to puzzle him. He falls down into homid, as well, cocking his head to the side. "Rat's crew?" he echoes back to Kaz, Salem's question ignored for the moment, (though some of the soldiers behind him exchange bemused looks and soft chuckles). The commander goes on, "Then you /are/ 'The Crew'." This doesn't seem to please him too much. "What brings you around here?"

Carries-Fire flattens one ear to the side. She looks confused, and not a little wary. ~I'm Fianna,~ she says. ~...But I like Rat.~

Ears says, explicitly, "I might be a Child of Rat, but I ain't currently got allegiance to the Crew guys around here. I ain't met 'em, I don' know shit. Morgan there--" she nods to her-- "Is one of Stag's, Zeke's a Pegasus dude, and Salem's a 'Roach. My name's Kaz. Ears. I'm a Tale-teller, music maker type. Alpha've my pack, that kinda thing. This kinda machine-Wyrm-zappy-fightin' shit seems t've been goin' on awhile, with you guys?"

Salem folds his arms loosely across his chest, his frown deepening.

The commander listens, but everything Kaz says seems to confuse him even more. When it's mentioned that Morgan's a Fianna, his eyes widen, and there's more buzzing and murmured talking from the collected garou behind them. "Fianna? Pegasus? Damn. You people really /are/ far from home." But it's when Salem's tribal totem is mentioned that everything seems to change. The murmurs turn to angry growls, and the commander levels a glare the Walker's way. Two of the Sentinel's wolves start snarling, and their brothers grab Salem and pin him against the wall, holding him there.

Kaz makes a reflexive movement in protest, but then she stops herself, instead speaking forcefully, strongly. "He /ain't with them/. Those fuckers you guys are fighting may've been Corrupted by the Wyrm and taken over, or collaborated, or whatever the fuck happened, but he /ain't one of them/."

Speaks-Up tenses up and growls lightly, eyes on the two that've grabbed Salem. ~We're speaking only truths here. I should know, I'm a half moon!~

Salem stiffens, teeth clenching, but very deliberately doesn't resist. "You might have missed me killing one of them," he says evenly, meeting the commander's stare.

Carries-Fire's hackles raise, and she half lifts to her feet. ~You let him go!~

The mere mention of Roach seems to be enough to bring out a deep and abiding venom within the bloods. Salem is held, regardless of the protests, though beyond a little roughing up, no harm comes to him yet. The commander exchanges a look with one of the Sentinels' wolves. The exchange lasts several moments, and then he turns back to Kaz and Salem. "No one worth a shit follows the Traitor anymore. So you're either one of them, or you're one of us." He seems to be talking to Salem alone now, and he taps the little bug on his shoulder. It's definitely not a cockroach. It's more like a flea. "Bloods. When 'She' turned, 'the Biter took us in. Taught us how to fight, and how to stay alive." He turns back to Kaz, pointing at her. "Unlike your people, who /think/ they can fight, but from where I stand, they sit around huddled in the dark half the time." There's a murmur of agreement from the soldiers around him. Carries-Fire's yell draws his attention, as well as a toothy grin.

Carries-Fire answers the grin with a glare, lips peeling away from her teeth. The fur along the back of her neck continues to bristle, and all four hands clench tightly.

Kaz studies this. "Interestin'," she finally concludes; despite her calm speech, her body is quite tense, and her eyes notice every time Salem is roughed up. "Yeah, us Rat types often do wait f'the right moment to strike, kinda hangin' in groups. It all too often /looks/ like cowardice, to other people. But I'm from a Sept of all kinds. Cockroach ain't turned, where I'm from, so--" Kaz turns to regard the man steadily, eyes not moving from him-- "I'd thank you not to question his loyalties to Gaia. Since we're here in part, to help with your fight, or try to."

Speaks-Up just coils down a little tighter as if making himself smaller would keep things better under control. He eyes the marker on the garou, the flea bug, and then forcibly exhales.

Salem holds his tongue this time and continues to keep himself forcibly still under the rough treatment, though he's /quite/ tense indeed.

The commander meets Kaz's gaze. All garou immediately recognize the silent struggle that ensues, and it lasts for a good long while. And then the man's gaze slips, just a little. There's anger in his voice, but it doesn't seem aimed at anyone--more simply aggression tied to the recent battle and the tense dominance challenge that just took place. "I cannot be responsible for one who still holds 'Her' favor (he won't even speak the totem's name) roaming free within this stronghold. It's all we have. And if they find their way in here, it's all over. I ain't saying he's one of /them/. I'm saying...I don't know what he is, and can't trust him, or you, yet." From behind comes that southern lilt again. "Oh, I'll watch him for you." Lara steps up, offering that enigmatic smile as she regards Salem again. "He'll be a good boy for me. Right, Sugar?"

Kaz seems to accept that gaze slipping, and starts to say, "I'll take respon--" before Lara appears. And my, does she eye the woman with wary interest.

Speaks-Up lets out a shiver of released tension, not that it goes away completely, but the Fury metis seems very much used to keeping quiet and obedient to his alpha.

Carries-Fire drops back, just a little, huffing. Her ears twitch toward the voice, and she studies Lara as well, though obviously there's no recognition from the Fianna.

Salem appears, it must be admitted, rather consternated. He looks at Lara, glances sidelong at Kaz, then turns his gaze to the commander. "I'm not a traitor," he says simply.

The commander turns his gaze on Lara. The two seem to know each other well, and when Lara turns that smile on, it brings a complimentary smirk from the commander. After thinking it over for a few more moments, he tells Kaz, "You can stay here tonight. Get some food in your bellies and some sleep, but she stays with you. And you don't go past the second set of chambers." He points, then after a deep breath, he finally adds, "Then I suggest, tomorrow, you get Lara to lead you out through the back tunnels, and to The Crew. Maybe they'll have some answers for you. I don't have time for Prattler games." He turns from them then, as do most of the other soldiers. Salem's released, again, roughly. They begin to disperse, though many don't go far and seem to continue to throw suspicious look over their shoulders and watch the strangers, talking about them.

Speaks-Up watches this all intently, eyeing Kaz to wait on her decision.

At the name Lara, Kaz's eyebrows go up. "...Huh," is all she says, before nodding to the man, as he turns away. "Hey," she calls. "You got a name? I like t'know who's givin' me orders. So I can salute right."

Salem rolls his shoulders and grimaces, then busies himself with re-tying his hair back; a lot of it escaped the elastic during the excitement so far. He seems to be avoiding looking at Lara, or at least attempting to; he does give her a sidelong glance or three.

Carries-Fire looks sideways at Salem. One ear twitches backward, she turns her gaze on Lara, and then looks back at Salem again.

Speaks-Up just stares at all of them blankly, until finally a plaintive whine escapes him. Antsy.

The commander turns back to Kaz, the anger fading as he observes protocol and offers his name. "Michael. Nine-Lives-Takes-Ten. Or, you can just call me Alleycat. Fostern Ahroun Bloodtaker." While Salem tries desperately to avoid her gaze, Lara's eyes seem to be all over him. There's no coyness there, no subtlety. And her smile widens at what she sees. Catching Kaz's glance, her gaze is drawn there, and a penciled eyed brow rises in question. "Come on, boys and girls, I'll show you 'round." She turns, first toward Salem, brushing past him purposefully as she leads the way to the kitchen cavern.

Kaz returns to Michael, as she limps a little closer, "Kaz, like I said. Ears. Bone Gnawer -- Crew, I guess, for you guys-- Galliard. I'm from the Hidden Walk originally, you guys prolly ain't heard about it. I got some positions there that don't really matter, all things considered. An' I'm an Adren metis," she adds, almost casually. "Good t'meet you." That said, she offers her hand, shake firm and non-competitive, before giving Lara another not-at-all-covert fascinated glance, and heads to follow their guide.

A muscle twitches in Salem's jaw. He follows, hands folded into his pockets. "Jack Salem, called Scar. Or Grey. Philodox." His voice is very controlled; the mask's up.

Speaks-Up straightens up and drops back to homid, adjusting the beanied hat on his head as he does so. "Zeke. Speaks-Up." Which may seem odd considering how much he didn't open his mouth just then. "Philodox and metis."

Carries-Fire finally shrinks--though she keeps shrinking straight down into lupus, where she pads alongside the others and continues to give Salem and Lara strange, confused looks.

Michael shakes Kaz's hand, the animosity nearly all gone, though he cannot help but throw suspicious looks Salem's way. "Check in with me after you've had some food and rest," he says, nodding as he goes to tend to his own, wounded adren. The gold-wigged metis leads them into a smaller chamber off the main one. There are some broken down old coaches and a store of various canned foods, as well as fresh meat cooking over open fires. "Don't ask what it is," Lara warns. "Because you don't wanna know." She leans casually against the wall while the others see to their own comforts.

Lara leads the four Hidden Walk garou to the kitchens, and after they're given some food, she finds them a small, unused offshoot of one of the tunnels to use for themselves. "You can bunk here," she says. "I'll let you guys rest and be back to talk more later." She gives Salem a purposefully long look before turning on her heels to disappear down a different tunnel.

Kaz slides down a wall and into a seat on the ground. "Wey-ull then," she says, thunking her head gently against that same wall, once Lara's gone. "Ain't this a fine kettle of fish we've gone and gotten into."

Salem follows suit, resting elbows on knees. He rubs a hand across his face. "That's... one way of putting it."

Zeke claims a spot and pulls his legs up to wrap his arms about them. He turns from the departing Lara to Salem first, eyes curious. Then he's all about being attentive to Kaz.

Carries-Fire curls up on the floor, with one back leg poking out, and her middle legs rather sprawled. An ear twitches toward the others as they talk, but apparently she doesn't have any commentary just now. Though she /does/ keep giving Salem curious looks.

Kaz mutters, possibly in response to the various weird looks from Zeke and Morgan, "/Alternate/ reality." Then she sighs and sits forward a little. "So th' Crew's Rat. Prattler's prolly Magpie. But we don' seem to got no Weasel analogue. And-- I don' think we got enough information on what we, specifically, needa do yet to know /shit/, do we?"

"What was the other bunch he mentioned?" Salem seems quite happy not to talk about the mysterious Lara. "Scavengers?"

Zeke chews on his lower lip a little, thinking it over and nodding in understanding. "Too chaotic right now. Need to find those who'll talk to us so we can figure it out."

Kaz nods. "Which... Don't really fit Weasel, not as /I/ know her. Might fit 'Coon..." She trails off. "Or mebbe Rat's crew split int' survivin' an' fightin' bunches."

"Maybe..." Salem leans his head back against the wall, then after a moment rolls it to focus his good eye on the Fianna. "What do /you/ think, Morgan?"

Carries-Fire lets out a deep breath, and points out, as if this were on topic, that the Weaver thing that the Weaver Wyrm wolves had made her try to shoot at Speaks-Up when she touched it.

Zeke looks over to Morgan and cants his head at her. In an instant he's up, and moving in her direction, only to sit back down and reach an arm out to her furry shoulders. "Hey. It happens. It wasn't you."

Kaz watches the two for a moment, smiling faintly, but then tilts her head a bit. "Wonder if that maps t'alla their shit. An'... Wow." She pauses. "Hope that don't extend to /our/ tech. Think I should be careful, though, with the stuff I got. Just in case it does." She shakes her head faintly, as if to clear it.

Salem cocks his head and gives Kaz a wry look. "That's amusing. I left my toys in the car, back home."

Carries-Fire shrinks from the offer for a moment, before she appears to change her mind, and instead chooses to lean her bulk against Zeke. Leeeean. Her tail brushes faintly against the ground. She was going to hit the WeaverWyrm wolf with it, but then she touched it and she shot at Speaks-Up before she realized. And then Ears-rhya tried to take it, but she threw it instead.

Kaz pats her pockets. "I got the advantage, there." Her own grin is wry, and then fades altogether as she asks, "So hey, Salem. You OK there?" She meets his gaze briefly and then jerks her head in the direction Lara went.

Salem's half-smile fades. He looks toward the exit Lara used, then back at Kaz. "I'm fine." He rubs the side of his neck. "More or less. After all... it's not really... her, is it?"

Kaz says, with a smile that really has no humor to it, "I ain't found that helps much, in the past, but..." She trails off. "I got you." This may be understanding, or it may be an explicit offer of support. Or both. In any case, she herself drops the subject, and starts rummaging in her pocket, attention off Salem now.

Zeke settles in with Morgan, companionably and comfortably so, and watches Kaz and Salem on their end. "That makes me nervous," he admits with a soft little whisper toward the Fianna he's being leaned on with.

Carries-Fire's tongue lolls in response.