Raconteur Orgon's page

The day of the Grand Concolation has arrived. The Garou of Munster have discreetly booked many of the rooms in the Holiday Inn hotel to house low-ranking Garou visiting from other Septs.

Finn McCaskill and Danny Greedy have been tasked with monitoring the hotel, but for very different reasons.

Danny is to act as muscle in case the hotel should come under assault, an unlikely, though unfortunate, event.

Finn is there to ensure that his uncle, or any of his fae minions, do not interfere with the guests in ways that an Ahroun cannot deal with.

Konstantin arrived the night before with his friend Jerome, but now that the sun has risen, so have most of the Garou at the hotel.

There is still quite a lot of time before the Ardfheis begins, with the opening rituals beginning around dusk, leaving the foreign Garou free to roam around the hotel or Killarney proper.

As Pádraic tries to explain to Mairead the nature of their foe, the hot-headed woman is already out the door.

With his half-sister gone, leaving him alone with the extremely injured Glass Walker, Pádraic immediately thinks of calling someone for help. He has a couple of options- the most immediate is to call Philander "Valor Song" McDonough, the Fianna elder for the sept. There's also the Forlorn, the only other Fianna Theurge in the sept. Finally, he knows there are two packs charged with keeping the sept safe, and whose number is given out to most sept members. The City Defenders, and all-Get pack, and the Gall Ghaeil Realty Special Operations Division -of which Brick Arm is a member-. Who picks up the phone changes depending on who is on call.

Mairead dashes out the door, easily following the trail of blood. The... thing, whatever it was, has made no attempt to conceal its escape. The trail ends abrubtly at the small dock just around the front side of the warehouse. It seems the creature has either jumped into the water, or gotten away on a boat.

Danny knows that any Gaian spirit can teach the ability to sense the taint of the Wyrm. You can regain gnosis and willpower as well. I am going to try to get everyone together in my next post.

Chloe is safely returned to Deepcreek, the retired Master of Rites for the sept. He seems concerned about the incursion of a hostile manifest spirit, but thanks you for driving it off.

"Sounds like a faerie spirit to me, probably a violent one," he says, his wrinkled face forming a frown. "I'll bring this to the attention of the Chieftain."

The next morning, you manage to track down Jason Rafferty, the sept's highest ranking Child of Gaia.

"That's very strange," he says, regarding your vision, as he sits at his cottage near Dunlow, where he has invited you to take some morning tea. "If I had to hazard a guess, your description of a quiet world sounds a little like the influence of the weaver to me."

He pours you some tea and offers some breakfast scones, but otherwise doesn't have much to say about the vision, only that you should keep and eye out for Weaver spirits where they shouldn't be.

The two days pass quickly, and you are asked to patrol the bawn to keep out any more spirits to the best of your ability. Nothing untoward happens,
and soon the night of the Ardfheis a gathering of almost all the Garou in Ireland, is upon you.

With some difficulty, you manage to center yourself and contact the spirit inside the ring, slipping it onto your finger. You feel that the being inside is a fae- a shadowy one, but who knows many hidden secrets. Even after attuning yourself, the being inside is still somewhat obscured from you.

Somehow, this fae is still bound by someone, perhaps your uncle, and whomever it is may be able to communicate with you.

After a second, you feel a sharp prick, and looking at your finger, you see a small trickle of blood dripping from underneath the bad. You become immediately aware that, now that you've put it on, there's no taking it off without severing the finer- and even that may not do it.

For now, Finn understands the following powers of the ring: It contains a reserve pool of 1 Gnosis point which refreshes every night at midnight. You can draw on that instead of your own Gnosis. It also reduces the difficulty of rolls to resist frenzy by 1. Whoever mad the fetish can use it to establish two-way communications with you.

Though he has just begun his education as a Garou, Pádraic has heard from the elder Theurges of the sept that there are more than Garou shapechangers in this world.

As Pádraic looks down at the severely injured Brick Arm, he sees that man's wounds are not closing, and puts two and two together, realizing that the huge furry creature that tackled the more experienced Glass Walker must have been one of the other "changing breeds."

Unless Bill is healed by some miracle, he will not be able to walk out of building, and shifting back to human form may even kill him.

In general I'd leave it to Danny to figure our. If you think what kind of spirit he would likely know to teach that gift, he can roll Occult + Intelligence. Otherwise you may have to make use of some of your contacts.

In a somewhat unexpected development, Chloe embraces you in a deep hug. It appears she is still in human form, so she feels very small against your large Crinos body.

"Thank you so much Danny. You really saved me back there."

The hug ends but she lingers holding your hand for a moment.

"Come on, let's get back to the elders. We need to tell them of this; I'm sure they can figure it out. And I need to clear my head."

You hear her begin to gather up her things, and after a moment she is ready to leave.

Unless you need something else here, we will end the scene. Feel free to post a summary what Danny does over the next two days.

Certainly there is a spirit in the ring, but without attempting to attune to it, not much more can be known. It is hard to say what your wily uncle may be thinking, but if you don't make use of the ring in some fashion, he has threatened your human aunt and uncle.

We can end the scene here, if you would like to make a narration of what you do until the Grand Concolation, please do so.

"Thank you Danny," she says, climbing to her feet. "I'm afraid I don't see it, thought I do smell the ephemera now. Its body must have already dissolved back into the Umbra."

She sighs and continues. "The ritual is ruined... and now it looks like the bawn has been compromised. Do you have any idea of what it was. A wyrm spirit? Something else?"

Feel free to post what you do here, I will respond, but shortly we will be moving to the concolation where I will be getting the party together

The Master of Rites shrugs and hands you back the ring. "I've not heard it, though when it comes to you uncle I would avoid and thinking the first answer you've come up with is the correct one."

"In any case, that ring is yours as he gave it to you. I'd be very careful with it. I am a little worried as we are all on the outs with Lachtna. It's not a good sign that he knew where you'd be. I wonder if we have a leak in the sept?" he continues, almost talking to himself.

"Well, if that is all, I don't have anything else for you today. I will have to bring this to the attention of Chieftain, so be ready to come if you are called," he says coolly, watching for your response.

Feel free to post what you do, I will respond, but shortly we will be moving to the concolation where I will be getting the party together

Once she is safely in bed, assuring you the she is very sad that you cannot stay longer with her, you turn in for the night yourself.

Feel free to post what you do, I will respond, but shortly we will be moving to the concolation where I will be getting the party together

Remember that if you are not in breed form, as a reflexive (ie. free) action on your turn, you can roll stamina DC 8 to regenerate a lethal wound.
Regenerating is not soaking, which prevents damage in the first place- you can soak immediately as you take the damage with DC of 6 for both bashing and lethal damage, and aggravated damage can also be soaked at 6 if you are not in your breed form (except for silver). Shifting forms to your non-breed form is an action unless you spend a rage point to do so (then it is immediate and free).

Pádraic's Wits+Empathy DC 6: 5d10 ⇒ (8, 2, 8, 7, 1) = 26
Pádraic's Wits+Occult DC 8: 6d10 ⇒ (3, 2, 8, 6, 6, 6) = 31

Padraic notices that the gunmen do not immediately s*@* themselves and start crying like babies or trying to run away when Mairead enters Crinos form, which is definitely not normal. He is unsure of the reason why, it could be something wrong with Mairead, it could be because they have some relation to the creature that just tackled Brick Arm.

The hired killer that has shot Mairead stares down her charge to the best of his ability, but there is little even such a hardened criminal can do against a Crinos-form Garou. Her massive claws nearly take the man's head off, but he managed to just barely back away enough to merely get deep furrows scratched in his face, covering his face with fresh red blood.

Humans can't soak aggravated damage

Remaining cool under fire, the group again begins to shoot at the cliaths, filling the air with the rat-tat-tat of submachine guns. The one Mairead has mauled is nearly incapable of firing his gun through his grievous facial wounds.

Guard 1's Three Round burst at Mairead, DC 7: 8d10 ⇒ (10, 6, 7, 7, 4, 1, 7, 2) = 44

Guard 1's Lethal Damage to Mairead, DC 6: 6d10 ⇒ (8, 4, 4, 8, 2, 1) = 27

Hitman 1's Three Round burst at Mairead, DC 7: 4d10 ⇒ (8, 6, 7, 10) = 31

Hitman 1's Lethal Damage to Mairead, DC 6: 5d10 ⇒ (7, 4, 3, 7, 10) = 31

Guard 2's Three Round burst at Pádraic, DC 7: 8d10 ⇒ (1, 4, 6, 8, 4, 5, 1, 2) = 31

Guard 2's Lethal Damage to Pádraic, DC 6: 6d10 ⇒ (7, 10, 1, 5, 3, 1) = 27

Hitman 2's Three Round burst at Pádraic, DC 7: 9d10 ⇒ (3, 10, 5, 1, 6, 5, 2, 4, 3) = 39

Hitman 2's Lethal Damage to Pádraic, DC 6: 5d10 ⇒ (5, 2, 3, 6, 6) = 22

I believe the roll for Mother's Touch is Int + Empathy

You hear the short rush of wind as Chloe awakes with a start. "Ugh, what happened? Did... did I anger the spirit?" she says, her voice still woozy with unconsciousness.

Finds-through-Fog looks incredulous for a moment, then takes the ring from you to inspect it.

"Yes, definitely a fetish of some kind. What was the riddle that he gave you with it?" he asks, turning the ring over in his hand, looking at it intently.

It is getting on rather late and you have to decide whether to buy the plane ticket at the gate, buy it online right now, or find some alternate method of getting across the Irish Sea.

Pádraic, you can roll perception or wits + investigate for looking for (most) things, depending on how long you are taking.

Bill shakes his head "I'm afraid we haven't figured out their marking system yet, I think they just check the crates themselves when they arrive. All of the boxes should be marked along the lines of "toys" or the like."

In order to demonstrate, Brick Arm lifts the top of one of the crates, revealing a plethora of the kind of cruddy plastic toys that can be found in vending machines at the backs of supermarkets.

"Still, any help... gah!"

As Bill is explaining what has happened, he's suddenly tackled by some kind of giant spotted monster that comes out nowhere.

It passes by in a blur as it crashes itself and Brick Arm through a stack of crates, spilling the tiny plastic toys everywhere; the two are gone from view in an instant.

Immediately after, four black men round the corners of the boxes, equipped with Chinese sub-machine guns like their compatriot outside. Two are attired like the guard, but two are more heavily armored in black heavy leather jackets. They immediately open fire on you two.

Guard 1's Three Round burst at Mairead, DC 7: 8d10 ⇒ (10, 8, 8, 1, 10, 3, 4, 5) = 49

Guard 1's Lethal Damage to Mairead, DC 6: 6d10 ⇒ (4, 10, 10, 9, 9, 4) = 46

Hitman 1's Three Round burst at Mairead, DC 7: 9d10 ⇒ (10, 5, 6, 10, 1, 1, 6, 10, 7) = 56

Hitman 1's Lethal Damage to Mairead DC 6: 8d10 ⇒ (9, 10, 8, 7, 8, 3, 3, 4) = 52

Guard 2's Three Round burst at Pádraic, DC 7: 8d10 ⇒ (6, 9, 5, 4, 9, 5, 7, 4) = 49

Guard 2's Lethal Damage to Pádraic, DC 6: 5d10 ⇒ (10, 3, 3, 5, 10) = 31

Hitman 2's Three Round burst at Pádraic, DC 7: 9d10 ⇒ (10, 4, 10, 10, 7, 10, 6, 2, 7) = 66

Hitman 2's Lethal Damage to Pádraic, DC 6: 7d10 ⇒ (7, 4, 5, 10, 2, 7, 8) = 43

You can soak each shot separately. You two are up

I looked it up, you are correct, 1's don't cancel on soak or damage rolls. Apparently this has been the case for every edition of WoD! I've been playing it wrongly for 10 years.

You ferociously attack your opponent, but in your anger you accidentally close your claws around its blade, slicing your hand open!

Rage: 10d10 ⇒ (3, 5, 1, 9, 4, 5, 9, 7, 3, 3) = 49

3 lethal damage. You gain 1 rage point . This is the result of your botched hit

Incensed, your last blow silences the creature, as with a grunt its madcap cackling ceases. The wood is suddenly silent except for the sound of your own heavy breathing.

Int+Occult, DC 7: 4d10 ⇒ (2, 5, 5, 8) = 20

The heady scent of a sublimating spirit hits your sensitive nose; though the scent is off- not wyrmish, but this was no Gaian spirit. If so inclined you could harvest the power of your fallen foe to help restore the power of your Gnosis, but you don't know what effect consuming a non-Gaian spirit would have on you.

Finds-through-Fog nods curtly, taking the items and placing them in a box carved with scenes of frolicking deer that he takes out from underneath the table.

"Very good, thank you Finn. Did you have any trouble at the pool? You were there quite a while," the elder Theurge says.

"Ahh, Konstantin, sorry, I didn't look at my phone when I answered."

"Oh, yeah, no problem man. The ticket's courtesy of the Austere Howl though, can't take any credit. Really busy here, I'm guessing Grafton has told you about our big emergency meeting. When you get into Dublin, just take a car or whatever out to Killarney, that's where the meeting is going to be. Well, in the caern there which is out on a little island in one of the lakes."

The young man barely takes a breath between words, and you can hear the heavy tapping sound of keystrokes on a computer as you talk.

Did I post a picture of Jerome?

Bill shakes his head at Mairead's question. "They won't call the police, but if anyone else heard the gunshot, he probably will."

Pádraic finds the keys in the thug's pocket easily enough. Bill holds out his hand and you toss it to him. "Mairead, if you'll drag our friend into an inconspicuous corner, I'm going to check the door." The Glass Walker quickly moves over to the door and unlocks it, peeking through before he gesturing with his hand for you two to move forward.

Brick Arm heads inside ahead of you. The door opens up into the back of a relatively small warehouse filled with wooden crates marked with Chinese characters; it looks like the goods have already been removed from whatever shipping containers they arrived in.

Leaving his gun holstered, Bill sidles up to the crates and attempts to get a hold on the room's contents.

Perception + Investigae: 5d10 ⇒ (4, 4, 10, 5, 9) = 32

Dex: 6d10 ⇒ (1, 8, 10, 4, 5, 8) = 36

Feel free to make your own rolls

He turns and whispers back to you two saying, "I don't see anyone, but something feels... off. We're going to need to start looking through these crates for the pills, unless one of you knows how to smell the Wyrm with a Gift"

As you have been reminded time and time again, blindness is a hefty drawback for an Ahroun, and your opponent seems to have come to that realization itself. Though you attack it with your full fury, it seems to dodge out of the way of your blows at the last moment; you can feel the tips of your claws just scratching it as it leaps away.

Willpower: 6d10 ⇒ (4, 9, 2, 2, 9, 5) = 31

Rage: 10d10 ⇒ (1, 8, 10, 10, 8, 6, 1, 5, 10, 5) = 64

You momentarily lose track of the creature as it darts away from you, only for you to feel the cold, crusty stab of its rusty blade into your lower back a moment later. A chortle dripping with hate follows from your assailant as your life's blood flows out of the wound.

7 lethal damage. Also, don't forget you can soak with stamina, and you regenerate lethal health levels at a rate of 1 per round with a stamina roll DC 8

Finds-through-Fog takes a few extra moments looking at the papers, then gathers them into a small portfolio. He looks up to you and waves you over.

As always, his tone is polite but not friendly. "Finn, I see you are back. Did you get the reageants from the pool spirit?" he asks, getting straight to the point.

"Oh, I do know, but usually they tend to go a little deeper than storm drains. I can go big-bad-wolf down there too, if need be, without getting my picture all over the tabloid on the next day," the Duke says with a smile.

Once you and the Duke open the drainage grate, the Duke offer his hand to you for a shake. "It was a pleasure meeting you Konstantin. I have a feeling we will be seeing each other again before too long," he says.

Assuming you return the hand shake, the Duke sits and swings his legs over the edge of the drainage sewer access. As he begins to slide down it, he says, "Ah, the privilege of peerage once again redounding to my benefit," his voice echoing away the farther he gets down the pipe. You eventually hear as sludgy splashing sound as he hits the bottom.

You are free do what you'd like now in this scene.

Pádraic, for the low blow the "Strength" listed there means you roll strength. In this case, since you rolled 2 more successes to hit than necessary, you can add 2 extra to the damage. I'll roll for you here

Pádraic's Damage: 5d10 ⇒ (6, 7, 1, 1, 6) = 21 (1 success)

Guard's Soak: 3d10 ⇒ (6, 5, 1) = 12 (Botch)

Pádraic pops out of the shadows and lands a direct blow on the guard's sensitive parts. You can practically see the man's eyes pop out of his head in pain, and suddenly he is covered it sweat. He doubles over, vomits, and passes out, falling directly into his own upchuck.

Mairead, winding up for a brutal punch, is left with nothing to do.

As she moves to check on Bill, he is already shifting into Glabro form in order to make use of the Garou's regenerative capabilities. In an instant he becomes more hirsute, his fangs extend slightly, and he begins to bulge out of his suit.

Rage point spent to shift into Glabro

He lets out a little cough of blood. "I'll be fine Mairy, I've been shot dozens of times, there's no need to fuss. Those gun shots have probably tipped off whoever is inside, plus maybe the guards too," he says.

Regen: 5d10 ⇒ (1, 10, 5, 5, 7) = 28
Regen: 5d10 ⇒ (5, 10, 6, 8, 8) = 37

Even in the time it takes him to say these two sentences, you can see that one of the bullets put into him has already been pushed out onto the ground. He stoops to pick it up, then looks over at Pádraic. Instead of a word of praise for Pádraic's timely intervention, he instead focuses on the mission ahead. He says,
"Let's hope that guard has a key so we don't have to rip off the door. Pádraic, pat him down and see if he's got one. We need to get inside, now!"

Thanks, I had completely forgotten about Crinos! I read that section and it looks like shifting to breed form does not take an action but any other shift does. Am I reading that incorrectly? Also, sorry if I was not clear, but as far as Danny can tell there is still only one opponent. It just backed off a little and swung whatever weapon it is holding at you from the right. For now I will just apply all of the attacks to the one enemy. Finally, it looks like you hit with your second attack as I see one success (a 9) and no botches. If you'd like you can include the damage from that in your next post.

Your claws press against, wrinkled, parched flesh that feels grimy to the touch, drawing some kind of liquid that can only be blood.

With a screech of fury whatever it is that is attacking you swings its weapons again.

Willpower: 6d10 ⇒ (10, 5, 6, 1, 1, 8) = 31

Rage: 10d10 ⇒ (5, 1, 5, 6, 2, 8, 6, 1, 3, 1) = 38

You feel the cold touch of rusted metal scrape against your hide, but the supernatural toughness imbued into you by Gaia fights off the blade's cutting edge.

You arrive on the island and make your way to its center, where a small clearing is the heart of the Munster sept. To the untrained eye, it looks just like any other glade. You know that the branches of the trees surrounding the Caern are carefully carved and re-carved constantly by the Master of Rites and other sept members with First Tongue runes praising Red Deer, Gaia, Stag, Unicorn, and other spirits, asking for their protection.

Sure enough, the sept's Master of Rites, Lawrence "Larney" Deepcreek and Finds-through-Fog, are there along with a few other Garou preparing Caern for the ardfheis. Though Finds-through-Fog is the official Rite Master of the Caern, Deepcreek has the unusual position of being Rite Master emeritus, having "retired" from the position due to his advanced age. In reality the two essentially share the position.

The official and unofficial Master of Rites are deep in conversation, standing next to a small wooden table that has a few pieces of parchment laying on it.

Though made of fine cardstock, it just has GRAFTON printed on it in big, block letters. Underneath in slightly smaller printing is the phone number 01842 766362.

"I suspect Jerome will be more available, though, since he lives right there in Dublin."

The Duke gives a little cough. "I don't mean to impose on you more than I already have, but I don't suppose there's sewer access in the house? Disgusting and all, but I don't think it would be a good idea for me to go back out into the streets," he says.

Sure enough, a few seconds later, the guard rounds the corner. A stocky black man with a shaved head, he is dressed in nothing more than a white tank-top and old jeans.

Much more frighteningly, he is sporting a drawn CF-05 submachine gun. However, it is clear from the casual way he is holding it he expected the noise he heard around the corner to be nothing more than a stray dog.

Dex+Brawl-1: 7d10 ⇒ (2, 3, 6, 9, 2, 5, 3) = 30
Spending a Rage point
Dex+Brawl-1: 7d10 ⇒ (3, 4, 9, 2, 7, 8, 4) = 37

Brick Arm immediately pounces on guard and attempts to rip the gun out of his hand. With surprising agility the guard manages to roll just to the side, avoiding the grab, despite Brick Arm's blinding speed.

Dex+Firearms+Burst: 8d10 ⇒ (6, 1, 6, 9, 9, 2, 8, 7) = 48

Firearm Damage: 6d10 ⇒ (4, 4, 10, 3, 8, 4) = 33

Soak: 6d10 ⇒ (5, 5, 9, 5, 1, 5) = 30

Though the dodge has cost him precious time, the guard manages to press the trigger on his SMG, spraying Bill with bullets. The big man takes two right to the chest, grunting in surprise.

Despite seeing a man take two bullets to the chest and not go down, the guard seems largely unperturbed and is already preparing to fire again.

Pádraic, you are up.

Danny, I'm not exactly sure where you're getting your numbers of die for damage. Could you you explain them to me? Not going to take the attack away, just want to see what you are thinking.

Other than that, to both attack and change forms you will need to spend a rage point.

As you leap forward, claws outstretched, to assault whatever is attacking the ritual, you are met with what feels like the wooden haft of a weapon. There is another hoarse squeal of surprise as whatever it is was not prepared for the fury of the attack.

The creature backs off a little, then you hear the swish of a descending weapon on your right.

Unknown Assailant Attack: 6d10 ⇒ (6, 8, 9, 3, 10, 5) = 41
Unknown Assailant Damage (Lethal): 10d10 ⇒ (4, 5, 6, 8, 7, 9, 2, 10, 4, 5) = 60 (5 lethal damage)

Once you return to the mainland, your beat up old car is enough to get back to Glenfesk, a small town just outside of Killarney National Park- the location of the sept's caern. You pull up along a gravel path to the old farmhouse. With it's sagging gray wooden boards and peeling white paint, fields laying fallow all year where, it's not much, but it is where the cliaths of Musnter without a pack are permitted to stay for free. Right now it is home to only you and the metis, Danny Greedy, who doesn't seem to be there.

The materials you were sent to fetch for Larney Deepcreek, the sept's Master of Rites, need to be delivered either today or tomorrow, but otherwise you remain the subject of benign neglect and were not given a more detailed schedule.

When Konstantin asks if Grafton is sure he wants to do this, there is brief pained look in the Duke's eyes, but it passes quickly. "Yes, we're sure. I mean no offense to you, of course we would want to send someone who is a member of our court, but as explained already... there extenuating circumstances that make if difficult. As for your departure, the concolation is in Killarney National Park, beginning on Monday night. I'm not sure if you just want to show up there or see Jerome first, I suppose it is up to you."

Brick Arm Initiative: 1d10 + 4 ⇒ (9) + 4 = 13
Mairead Initiative: 1d10 + 6 ⇒ (5) + 6 = 11
Pádraic Initiative: 1d10 + 6 ⇒ (6) + 6 = 12
Guard Initiative: 1d10 + 5 ⇒ (4) + 5 = 9

Final initiative order is Brick Arm, Pádraic, Mairead, and the Guard

From around the corner, you hear a grunt of annoyance, then a sigh, then a sound of footsteps growing closer.

"Be ready, he's heard us," Bill says. He raises his hands menacingly, getting ready to grab the guard when he rounds the corner.

Pádraic, you are up.

Unknown Assailant's Soak: 6d10 ⇒ (4, 9, 1, 9, 8, 4) = 35

The flash of fire creates a wave of heat on your face. There is a squeal of pain, indicating that you have at least singed whatever it was that was sneaking up on Chloe.

Her chanting abruptly stops and there is a yell, half in fear, half in defiance, as she spots whatever it is that is in the clearing

Danny's Initiative: 1d10 + 5 ⇒ (10) + 5 = 15
Unknown Assailant's Initiative: 1d10 + 10 ⇒ (5) + 10 = 15

There is a cruel laugh as you hear a thick thud as something connects with a solid bone. You hear a body crumple to the forest floor, then something vaguely in front of you speaks in a gibberish language. Though you can't understand it, the mocking tone is easy enough to understand.

You're up in initiative Danny

"We haven't heard from them in three weeks, give or take a few days. The whole sept had been called into the Caern for a ceremony honoring Tadhg Ó Dónaill. Have you heard of him? Big shot Fianna, really big," Grafton says, his voice carrying the weight of true admiration.

"They've vanished in the wake of that meeting. I don't think the Irish Garou know what to do and they're having a grand concolation of all the septs in attendance to hash out a plan. Our lad Jerome will be your point of contact. Hopefully he is arranging things right now with the sept chieftains. The plan is for you to be welcomed as the official envoy of the Austere Howl, and by extension our entire tribe."

He flashes a sheepish grin. "Err, no pressure, of course. Sorry."

He too leaves behind identifying information, then opens a drawer to reveal single burner phone. "Typical, Cathal and Conor took the rest, didn't bother to tell Roberta. Sorry kids, I guess I'm the one with the emergency phone tonight." he says, scooping the phone into his inner jacket pocket.

"All right, let's move out", he says, then leads the way back to his SUV. "Well park a couple of blocks away and approach on foot, try to stay quiet if you can. Oh, and if we get separated, it's best to rely on howls. Probably the most secure kind of communication we have."[b]

He whispers back to you [b]"Just around the corner," holding up his hands for you to stop.

Brick Arm Dex + Stealth: 5d10 ⇒ (1, 6, 4, 7, 2) = 20

Please make stealth rolls- or don't if you don't care to be noticed (dex + stealth)

Guard Perception + Alertness: 5d10 ⇒ (9, 8, 10, 8, 3) = 38

Perception+Alertness: 5d10 ⇒ (7, 5, 6, 6, 2) = 26 vs. Willpower: 6d10 ⇒ (9, 3, 1, 1, 3, 3) = 20

A few minutes into the ritual, you can tell that there's something... off. The copse of trees where you are standing and waiting has taken on the hint of a coppery smell, almost like blood, but there's a subtext to the odor that you can't quite finger at the moment.

Whatever it is, Chloe does not seem to notice it as her prayers praising the tree spirit continue unabated.

Suddenly, to your right, and almost directly behind Chloe, is the unmistakable sound of a giggle. Far from a child's giggle, however, there is an undercurrent of of very adult malice to this sound.

With a leap and a flourish of his tail, he dives down deep into his pond. You are once again alone in the silent landscape of the Penumbra.

Reaching into his back pocket, he pulls out an envelope which he offers to you. "Compliments of the House of Austere Howls, some money to cover your airline ticket"

Once you take and inspect the envelope, you see there are £350 in it.

After offering you the money, he will accept your invitation to move to the sitting room, where he will take up a position near the hearth. He sighs and says, "I'm afraid I don't know a great deal about what has directly happened to our vassals in Oriel, but if you have any questions, I will try to answer them."

As before, Bill seems to be in professional mode and doesn't smile when Mairead makes her joke about James Bond. "I'm sure you'll meet her one day. She likes to keep things very professional; she was G2 before her first change."

Regarding the guns, Bill nods and says, "Just as well, since it's not dedicated to you. If you have to shift or step sideways, it will just fall to the ground anyway. As for me, I'm really Special Operation's melee specialist, but I like to carry one just in case- and this one is dedicated to me. Plus our pack totem likes us to be packin' as often as possible."

"Dedication goes for any body armor and clothes, too. These have been dedicated to me. I can give you a bullet proof vest and a suit, but it will be torn to pieces if you have to go crinos. In my opinion it's best to leave as little evidence behind as possible. Now, if you're not wearing your own dedicated clothes, then sure, grab some over there," he continues, jabbing his thumb at a closet that has some spare dark suits and vests.

Once Pádraic has explained what a Bane is, Brick Arm nods curtly. "That's the short of it. Don't get too worried though- once a Bane manifests in our world, you can shoot it and tear it up with claws just as well as a man. Anything hidden inside of pills that are 50% sawdust is probably not too scary."

He waits a moment for any further questions and to allow Pádraic and Mairead the opportunity to arm themselves or put on a bullet proof vest.

"Oh, now Danny, you've caught me in a rhetorical trap. I can't say that I think the Howlers are gone for good, or I'm condemning you to madness. I'm afraid you won't catch me though; I think they're lost to the Nation. Once the Wyrm gets that far in, he doesn't come out. That's why we Garou have got to fight so hard to prevent corruption at all. Call me a pessimist if you must," she says, indignation and sympathy striking an unusual sweet-and-sour note to her voice. "Though, I hear in these words of redemption the Child of Gaia I know so well once again."

"As far as the leeches go, I've got no idea. You seem to know more about them than I do, so if you think they can be saved, then I'll believe you. And no, I don't think all Metis should be slain at birth. Maybe just one or two," she says, the more pleasant sound of humor returning to her voice.

"Come now, let's make our way to the last spirit. I'm sure she's craving our attention." As you two walk she continues, "I guess you must be right about Dublin though. Strange how many different creatures there are like ourselves. Well, I mean, comparatively. When I was a girl I would never have believed in this whole hidden world we now live in."

Since you know Chloe fairly well, you would know that she grew up in a Kin family that had lost contact with the Nation, and did not know they were Kin or anything about Werewolves/Gaia.

When you turn back to the merman, it is still lying there on the rocks of his pool, mouth slightly agape in bemusement.

"That was not the outcome I was expecting at all. I think my jest about you secretly being one of Weaver's brood might be true after all," he says.

In response to your request for sacred baubles, he says "Yes, yes, certainly I can do that for you as payment for ridding me of that Unseelie sprite."

Without another word, he pushes himself off the rocks and into the pool. A few moments later he reemerges with a handful of perfectly round pebbles and some vibrant green seaweed, which he lays out carefully on the rocks between himself and you. "There you go master werewolf. I believe this discharges my debt to you as well..." he says with a hopeful tone in his voice.

His healing complete, he shifts back into Homid form and addresses you in a cheerful tone as if being shot by unknown hitmen were no more an inconvenience than missing the signal at a crosswalk.

"Certainly. I suppose the foyer will do just was well as anywhere else."

He takes a moment to seat himself on one of the benches provided by your aunt for people to untie their shoes. "You see, our Queen is busy, very busy, and she is a little indisposed at the moment. It is difficult for her to admit new members to the court, even an ambassador from the illustrious Crescent Moon. She would like a small favor from you before she extends an invitation. Among the many petty annoyances we've had to deal with recently, it seems as if the our people in Oriel -that's a Silver Fang sept in Northern Ireland, by the way- have gone missing. It's somewhat distressing to us that one of our most important feudatories has just up and vanished, but we don't have the man power to look into it ourselves. That's when I thought of our mutual friend, Jerome, and he said that he could put me in touch with you. So here I am, and here you are! Would you consider looking into the matter for us? I can guarantee that the Queen will welcome you at court if you solve this little mystery for us."

Without speaking he downs his drink in one go. "Don't want to waste good beer," he says, his voice changed from one of jocular camaraderie to one of serious business as soon as he puts the glass down.

"Let's get out of here, we have a place where we can prep," he says putting down some Euros on the table for the tab. He gets up from the table and leads the two Ó Dónaill kids out to street, where he gets into a dark gray SUV. Once everyone has gotten in, he drives into the Shandon neighborhood and parks on John Redmond Street. All through the drive he says nothing regarding the mission to the siblings.

He gets out of the car and leads his small group to a tiny house on Lloyd's Lane, opening the door with both a key and a code on a cleverly concealed keypad hidden inside a secret panel on the door lintel.

Once inside the safehouse, which is sparsely furnished, he looks at Pádraic and Mairead. "Sorry for the silence, can never know who is listening in public. Even the First Tongue might not be safe. A company we have been watching for a while, called Guangzhou Overland Trading, or GOT, has recently sprung up out of nowhere. Despite the name, they're based in Shanghai. Technically they deal in cheap plastic crap made in China, but frequently they smuggle counterfeit drugs into Europe with their regular goods shipments for disbursement to drug dealers and crooked doctors. Not normally Garou business, but some of our Kinfolk in the port authority discovered that the fake medicine was wyrm-tainted, some even contained minor Banes," he says, letting out a low breath. "Roberta's got an interesting sense of humor, so she's dubbed dealing with these drugs 'Operation Hard Lemonade.'"

As he talks he walks into one of only two rooms in the house, opening a series of closets that contain various outfits and firearms. He begins undressing, putting on a dark blue suit and tie, then strapping a heavy semi-automatic pistol to his side, easily hidden under his jacket.

"So far we've intercepted a number of these tainted shipments. At worst there have been a couple of regular toughs sent from the drug dealers to pick up their merchandise. Here's the op; we've gotten a tip from one of our contacts in the Gardaí that one of these shipments of bad drugs has come into one of the dock warehouses here in Cork. Since you're new cliaths and all, I figured this can be a good learning experience, not too dangerous. In the past Special Ops has not even had to leave Homid to deal with them. There's always a chance one of the bound Banes could get loose, though."

He points to the gun cabinet. "Either of you know how to use one of these? Oh, yeah, and any questions?"

Sorry if that's a bit rail-roady. If for any reason your character doesn't want to get in the SUV or has second thoughts along the way, feel free to post it and we can change the scene.

"If you say so Danny. I've never met one and I don't care to. Seems they don't like the countryside much. A good choice I say because we'd kill them if we found them out here," Chloe says.

"I didn't mention anything about leeches though. Is that the problem up in Dublin?"

"Fine, fine. Be that way. Strange ass Garou," he says, then promptly turns his back on you and begins trudging away. Thanks to the strange dimensions of the Umbra, he quickly vanishes from sight.

Sadly Konstantin fails to take Glabro form immediately

"Oh, goodness, sorry. I hadn't realized," the Duke says somewhat sheepishly.

After your walk to the bathroom to get a wet rag and some disinfectant, you see that Grafton has grabbed hold of one of the bullets and is pulling it out with an unpleasant squelching sound. The wound only bleeds for a few second before scabbing over. He grits his teeth and says, "Unpleasant business, that."

As he sets to work on the second bullet, which is now close enough to the surface to also be plucked out, he says, "As for who could have done this, a million people I'm afraid. Even the use of regular bullets doesn't tell me anything- it could be someone who doesn't know much about Garou, it could be Garou who don't want to break the Veil. It could even be someone wanting to save money on silver bullets; London has closed-circuit cameras every two meters. Taking anything but Homid out on even a deserted street would turn into a Veil breach disaster. The hitmen might have counted on killing me in the street before I could find someplace secluded to heal."

Brick Arm returns a few minutes later with a beer for himself and Mairead. "Sorry about that, you can see how crowded it is," he says as he sits back down.

"Well, now, we were talking about the ardfheis and..." he begins to say but is interrupted by a gong-like ring from his mobile. "Uh-oh, that's Roberta's special line," he says as he reaches down and takes out the phone.

"Mmm, of course. Sorry kids, I have to cut this a little short. Seems like I'm needed out at the docks, as I'm the only one here in Cork. Unless..." he says, a mischievous grin growing on his face. "You wouldn't want to come along, would you? Garou work. I can see that you, Mairead, at least, need to blow off a little steam, with the moon nearly full."

Roberta is Roberta Small, Viking Holdings Gatekeeper and alpha of the "Gall Ghaeil Realty Special Operations Division," the pack that Bill belongs to.

"One moment, Danny, let me just offer the spirit here his chiminage," Chloe says. You can hear her kneel down, then remove something from her bag.

She begins chanting in a language you don't understand -though you catch a few words that are similar to the Garou First Speech- that can only be the spirit tongue. A snap and a hiss indicate a match being struck, and you can smell a mixture of fragrant woods and grass as Chloe immolates something.

After about fifteen minutes, the smell and chanting dissipate. Chloe is suddenly standing near you again.

"There we go, just one more spirit to appease and I'll be all done for the evening," she says. "As for why the new McCaskill chieftain doesn't want to play nice, I guess, yeah, he's beating the war drums. He's not alone though, word has it old Lachtna Ó Dónaill has got his back too. They're both not happy with the truce that the great Tadhg Ó Dónaill and the Dubliners made with some kind of Wyrm creatures that live in the city. Whole thing has a fancy name too, the "Midnight Bargain." Don't really know much about those things, apparently they can't be too Wyrmish or the deal wouldn't have been made."

You can tell from Chloe's tone of voice that she's not too happy about any kind of deal with Wyrmish creatures.

As you reach for your knife, the redcap grins, revealing its rotten teeth. In the blink of an eye its scythe has swung just a few inches from your face. "Uh, uh, uh, boy. I wouldn't think about doing that," it says, though the perverse timbre to its voice suggests it would love for you to pull a blade on it.

" Now, here is what old Unlce Lachtna has for you. A riddle:

I am the creator, through thick and thin. My time is sunset, then I begin. Worlds of men and beasts I make, to me these things are not fake. But over and over I will kill , I am the tyrant and creator but not at will. What am I?"

The redcap retracts his scythe, then grabs something out of his pocket and tosses it at you.

"Now, take that ring, it will let Lachtna get in touch with you. If you don't do what he asks, your Uncle said that you really don't want to know the answer to this riddle, especially for the sake of your dear Auntie in Roscrea."

The object is a small golden claddagh ring. However, inscribed on the heart is the First Tongue rune for "Control."

Assuming you pick it up or catch it, you can instantly feel that there is a gaffling bound inside of it.

The redcap doesn't leave immediately; it seems to linger, leering at you with its perverse smile, obviously hoping you will attack it and give it some reason to commit violence against you.

"Please," he gurgles. "Close the door. I... I think I lost them but they may be close"

Wits+Perception: 6d10 ⇒ (7, 9, 2, 3, 3, 7) = 31

You notice that he has left a bloody palm print on the front door.

The man's voice becomes steadier and his breathing slows; obviously his Garou regeneration abilities have kicked in. He turns over on the floor to face you. "Ugh, I'm very sorry," he says in his rough Glabro voice as he climbs to his feet.

"Henry Fitzroy, the Duke of Grafton, though most people call me Harry," he says, holding out his hand for a shake- luckily this one is clean, his left hand is the bloody one.

"I'm afraid I have no idea who shot me, looked like two men in all black. They got me a little bit outside of the Green Park station, once I got onto a quieter street. I'm fairly certain I've shook them."

Even now you can see the two bullet being pushed out of the holes in his chest. It won't be long before they're fully healed.

Bill shakes his head at Mairead "No offense taken. It's mostly beyond me too. The Chairman just points me at things and tells me to tear them up; I do what he says. Though, uhh, be careful with the whole Russian thing. The Ua Collas were just as Irish as I am. It's a bit of a stereotype that they're all Russian, though I guess that's where the clan came from back in, well, practically prehistory at this point.

I'm not up on how they do their internal organizing, but I'm pretty sure the Silver Fangs in the British Isles are really a mess right now. In fact the Ua Collas were pretty well off compared to the ones in Great Britain. It's a huge blow to them to be sure, but I don't know who they're going to get to investigate it right now."

The older Glass Walker doesn't really comment on Pádraic's queer comment, getting straight to the question about spirits. "I think that's what the ardfheis is partially for." At this point he leans in, and even though you are already speaking in the First Tongue, he lowers his voice. "I have it on good authority that they're going to try to summon Red Deer, the patroness of the Meath sept, at the ardfheis. No mean feat, calling the daughter of Stag like that."

Brick Arm then nods and leans back out, returning to the use of English. "Well, I'll get me an Mairead another round. I see you don't need one Pádraic, don't let it get too warm!" With that he stands and heads over to the bar, leaving the two Ó Dónaill siblings alone for a moment.

The Chairman= Tim Murphy, Glass Walker and the chieftain of the Viking Holdings. Called such because he is the head of Gall-Ghaeil Real Estate Development, LLC, a front for Garou activity in the Viking cities.

"As far as Leinster goes, I don't really know. Since old Brian McCaskill dies in the raid up a Slieve Donard, I've heard his nephew's got the chieftaincy now. I think he's not very happy about how the Dubliners run their sept, maybe he wants to add it to Leinster's territory."

The grass is suddenly greener. The stars in the sky are more vibrant than even they were on the isolated island you have left behind. The old 19th century signal tower just beyond the pool is nothing but a hazy outline- not even the passage of 200 years has been enough to solidify it here in the Otherworld.

Reclining on the rocky lip of the pool not far from you is the water spirit whom you have been dealing with. However, it's mischievous grin is gone, replaced with a deep look of regret in its eyes.

"I'm very sorry master Werewolf, but he forced me to bring you here," the pool spirit says, pointing over your shoulder.

Standing behind you is a horrible creature that looks like a little old man with yellow buck-teeth and a hooked nose. It has a filthy white beard which reaches down to its knees, partially concealing the ragged lumberjack's outfit it seems to be wearing. Perched atop its malformed head is a small cap, stained and wet with a red liquid whose coppery scent reveals it to be blood.

The creature gives you an horrific grin, then points at you with it a rusty old scythe it carries in its gnarled hands.

"Heh heh heh, so dumb, just like I heard. I've come with a a little message from your dear uncle. You ready to hear it, boy?"

Bill then nods at Pádraic. "Yes, he's got the right of it. Many people think that Lachtna is behind the disappearances. He certainly tried to undermine your dad's leadership from time to time. I think it myself," he says.

He takes a handful of the peanuts on the table, and dearly looks like he wants to call a waitress for another drink, but seems to come to the conclusion that interrupting the conversation at this point would be a bad idea.

"Thing is, we did send a whole bunch of people to Oriel after the your dad and the Silver Fangs. I was one of them. Let me tell you, it took an act of will to just get beyond the traditional borders of the sept. Couldn't step sideways for all of the money in the world. We scoped it out from farther away, but the whole sept has been encased in Pattern Webbing in the Penumbra, like a giant cocoon. Couldn't make it through at all. That's why were having this emergency ardfheis. Now, that whole bit about the webbing and being unable to get into the Penumbra is privileged information, don't go sharing it until we actually have the ardfheis down in Munster.

Teague "Tends-the-Poppies" Malloy is the sept's Keeper of the Land, a Glass Walker Metis Theurge (the only GW Metis in the Holdings), and a member of the City Farmers camp. I'll leave it up to you if you know him and how well. Roland "the Forlorn" Wainright is the only Fianna Metis in the Holdings. He's an Englishman who usually does not leave Phoenix Park (he has a good cover there as a groundskeeper, and can stay in his natural Metis form more often.). Most Fianna in the Sept ignore him as much as possible but don't otherwise abuse or mock him. As above I'll let you decide how much you do or don't know him

"Sure, you can come along. I don't think I'm gonna upset a tree spirit enough to need a bodyguard but you'll be good for the company," she says.

After a moment of drinking in silence, you can tell she is thinking about something. "Oh, Danny, these are dark times. I hear the Leinster Garou aren't coming out to the ardfheis. Something to do with their objection to the whole situation in Dublin."

She finishes off her beer, then puts it back in her bag (no littering for a Garou, of course). "Isn't it just like us. We've got the big servants of the Wyrm on the ropes here in Ireland, we're probably the only Garou in the world to be so blessed. And then we just decide to go fighting each other."

A toothy grin break's the merman's face when the list is complete.

"Sure, sure, I've got those things. But I can't bring them over to this side. Come with me into the Otherworld, you can pick them up there," it says, fading back into the Umbra even as it speaks. It's pointed teeth are the last to fade as it says its final few words, leaving Finn alone once again in the material world.

Unfortunately the situation is all wrong. There is a tear in the front of his shirt where two bullet wounds show through. His eyes are in a wide panic as he looks quickly behind him. He then raises his hands again, about to strike the door for a second time. You see that they, too, are covered in fresh blood.

Wits+Perception: 5d10 ⇒ (2, 1, 2, 8, 5) = 18

He also doesn't seem to notice Pádraic fake drinking his own beer.

"Doing right by your father would be a good thing. The man nearly cut the head off the Wyrm here on the Emerald Isle; something no other sept or group of septs in the Nation I've ever heard of doing. I guess you could say a lot might be expected of you," he says finishing off his beer.

"In some ways the ardfheis will be about you, you as in Ó Dónaill's kids. The whole reason the thing is being called is because he and everyone up in Oriel is gone," he continues, then gives an angry grunt. "Not that I think it's a good idea. Your dad and the Silver Fangs were all up there, it's obvious someone was waiting for a whole bunch of Garou to be in one location at once and, well... I'm sure you don't care about my theory. Anyway, the elders are going to decide what to do."

He gives each of you a concerned stare for a moment, then continues. "Look, as far as I know you are the only Ó Dónaill kids here in the Holdings. I wanted you to know each other because, well, you've got an uncle. Mean thing, hunchbacked Metis. He was famously envious of your dad all his life, and now he's in charge of the Ua Neill sept up north. Totally unheard of for a Fianna sept to let a Metis get the Chieftaincy, so that should tell you that he's got powerful allies. I don't know if he'll hold a grudge against you kids, but I think you should maybe look out for each other until we know for sure."

You can make neither heads nor tails of the vision at the moment

Chloe helps you to your feet. "Ahh, sorry Danny. One of those visions again? Well, for myself, I'm helping prepare the Bawn for the ardfheis."

You hear a patting noise, indicating that she has a bag or satchel filled with something. "Just going to a couple of the tree spirits hereabouts, making chiminage. Finds-through-Fog asked me to do it."

You hear the smile creep a little back into her voice, "And somehow I think old Deepcreek put him up to it, expected me to find you out here. Maybe you should talk to him or Jason about that vision. Sounds real creepy to me."

The sound of someone rummaging around in a bag reaches you. "Hey, don't tell Finds-through-Fog, but I have a bit more than acorns and plant food in here," Chloe says, then you hear the sweet pop and hiss of can of beer being opened. "Want one? Might take your mind off of creepy toy totem spirits."

Jason = Jason Rafferty, the Sept's Truthcatcher and highest ranking Child of Gaia

"Uggghhh, you werewolves get more boring every year, do you know that?" a voice groans out from the pool, just as you were getting comfortable looking at the moon.

A glance over at the pool reveals a merman, complete with greenish skin made of fine scales and seaweed for hair, half propped up over the edge leading into the water.

"I keep you waiting for ten hours to see what you do, and you don't even have the decency to drink beer, just this sterile bottled water," he continues, scrunching up his face in disgust. "You may look like a Fianna's Fianna, but you have a Pattern Spider for a soul."

He sighs a burbly, wet sigh. "Well, you didn't wait here for me to pop out of the Umbra for fun, I'm guessing. What do you want?

Suddenly there's several heavy thuds on the door; definitely not a polite knock with the knocker like you might expect from an honest-to-Gaia Duke. The housekeeper has of course gone home for the night, so you are left to answer it.

It's hard to tell if the redness is going to resolve into violence or something else, but all worry is dispelled when he let's out
a loud guffaw.

"Oh, you two pups, you kill me," he says after his loud laugh, still chuckling.

He then slips into the First Tongue, the language of the Garou, presumably to prevent a potential Veil breach in the croweded bar at night.

"First of all, I have no place doing that, at all really but especially for people not of my tribe. Secondly, you're both Garou,
so that's a big Litany no-no. And thirdly, Mairead Kavanagh, I'd like you to meet your half-brother Pádraic Meagher. Pádraic Meagher, your half-sister Mairead Kavanagh," he says,
eyeing the both of you, hoping that the reason for the meeting is now clear.

1d5 ⇒ 4

Everyone begins the game on the same night, so this roll will cover everyone. In addition to whatever you get from this roll, you begin the game with Rage points equal to your Rage rating (Maximum 10 points).

It is a beautiful day in the bawn. Fluffy white clouds drift overhead. The sun beams down happily on his sister's face. The trees stretch up to the sky, ringing it with their leafy embrace. The water of Doo Lough is still and silent, the road that you know passes nearby gone, as you know all the signs of the mad Weaver are gone from this flawless world.

It makes no sense, but the silence of this place is now roaring. The relentless stare of the eye-in-the-orb fills you with a bone-numbing chill. You know your insides are turning to stuffing, just like poor Unicorn and Red Deer.

Danny is suddenly shaken awake, gasping for air as you feel the imaginary cotton vanish from your lungs.

Though you don't know what she looks like, you know the touch of Chloe and the sound of her voice as it drifts to you.

"Danny, Danny, wake up! You're suppose to be guarding the Bawn! You're lucky I found you and not someone else, otherwise you'd be in for a stern talking-to from the elders!"

Her tone conveys equal parts frustration and amusement.

As it stands, Rite Master Les "Finds-through-Fog" Conway set you out here to get into contact with the pool's spirit and bargain with it for some necessary items to placate Red Deer, who will be presiding over the coming Ireland-wide ardfheis. An emergency ardfheis called to deal with the disappearance of Tadhg Ó Dónaill.

Your absentee father, Tadhg Ó Dónaill.

This is the first time Finds-through-Fog has given you anything even remotely like training or a task related to your calling of theurge, and though he didn't explain himself as usual. Perhaps Ken O'Dara had something to do with it.

Luna rose long ago and now glints off the tiny pool.

The spirit still hasn't shown itself. The ardfheis isn't for two more days. Perhaps it might be best to come back tomorrow or Sunday? Finds-through-Fog did not give you any timeframe other than to have spirit's reagents by the time of the concolation.

As far as exile -even disguised exile- goes, Konstantin has been lucky- very lucky. Your great, great aunt, Countess Ludmilla Ogrifina Kapeka Saltykov, an ancient Russian emigrée whose parents fled the October Revolution shortly before her own birth, was kind enough to allow you to live with her in her stately townhome in Mayfair.

For over a week you have not had much to do other than keep your elderly Kinfolk aunt company. Though the Countess has some knowledge of the Garou Nation, she's not quite as in-the-know as you would like, so it has been somewhat frustrating to not have anyone to commiserate with you.

The House of Austere Howls, which you are ostensibly suppose to be here visiting, is in disarray over reasons that are never given to you; it's Queen practically is in hiding. She only sees visitors by direct summons, which you have not been favored enough to receive.

All hope is not lost, however. Your old friend Jerome, the Glass Walker from Dublin, has done yet another favor for you. He's gotten in contact with the House of Austere Howls, and they're sending a representative to talk to you tonight. When you last spoke with Jerome, he seemed preoccupied and said there had been some kind of tragedy that had befallen the Garou Nation in Ireland. He has told you to expect the Duke of Grafton, apparently a Silver Fang, tonight at 8:30 to discuss the matter.

Aunt Ludmilla has gone off to the premier of L'elisir D'amore at the Royal Opera, leaving you alone in her elegant, if slightly stuffy, parlor. With nothing but an excellent old grandfather clock and a faded photo portrait of Tsar Nicholas II to keep you company, you notice ruefully that the Duke of Grafton is now 15 minutes late.

Mairead

It is just a few days before the emergency ardfheis that will host most of the septs of Ireland to discuss the fate of your vanished, and personally-unknown-to-you, father- Tadhg Ó Dónaill.

Maybe to calm your nerves, maybe to give you a little talk about what he thought would happen on Monday, your friend and mentor Bill "Brick Arm" O'Rahilly has invited you out to a drink at his favorite pub in Cork, the Poor Relation.

It was your first time using the unique Moon Bridge that connects the old Viking settlements of Ireland together, indeed the first time you had ever used a Moon Bridge, and the experience was thrilling. Brick Arm was grinning the whole time as your experienced the Aetherial Realm in all of its glory. The Goddess Luna and her servants were beaming down on you as you crossed the Otherworld. They were no longer myth or supposition, but so close you could almost touch them.

You're pretty sure a mischievous Lune even mooned you from afar.

Now that you're at the Poor Relation, the real world seems so much more ... boring. But at least the beer is decent.

Strangely Brick Arm hasn't said much, he's usually talkative.

Finally he speaks up. "Mairead, I'm afraid I may have played a little trick on you. With, well, what's coming, I think you might need to meet someone. The next couple of months, or even years, will be trying and I think it's best if you stick together."

He nods his head toward the door as he finishes, drawing your attention to a young blond man who has walked in. He waves to the man and calls out "Pádraic, over here!"

Pádraic

Earlier in the day, you got a message from your dear mum.

"Padraic, one of those gents from Dublin called, you know what I mean. We've been acquainted for a few years, seen him about Cork from time to time. Don't think he's a bad sort. Name's O'Rahilly, you may have heard of him. Said he doesn't know you that well so he wanted to pass an invitation through me. He want's to meet with you at the Poor Relation tonight at 8:30 or so."

Just like her, to be concerned about the Veil, calling Garou "those gents".

You suddenly hear a clang of pots and pans. "Oh, begorra! Whiskers just knocked your father's pot roast to the floor. I've got to go dear, be safe, love you!"

The message ends.

There's not much to do but obey your mother, though you have about an hour to kill before the appointed time. Once you've done what you need, you to the Poor Relation.

As you enter, a muscular dark-haired man, sitting with a very large red-headed woman, waves at you and calls out "Pádraic, over here!".

You think you've seen him around the Cork bawn a time or two before: Brick Arm, a Glass Walker. You don't know the young woman, but the likelihood of a human female getting to be her size is small at best- probably another Garou.