INTO THE WOODS ※ GAME EVENT

[wildestmods]

INTO THE WOODS

The faerie faire goes on into the evening, the faire filled with the sounds of revelry. For those who've spent the day there, the cool evening air is welcome respite from the bright sun that's shined all day. Those who still have some faerie gold might even want to invest in a cloak if they haven't gotten one yet, because it may get chillier as night falls.

As evening descends and various floating flowers start to glow to provide light, the spring faeries start to bring out night-time merchandise and amusements, like brightly-colored phosphorescent flower jewelry. Fireflies are charmed to blink in different colors and magical fireworks paint the sky in vibrant light. They're quieter than normal fireworks, but there are still satisfying snaps and hisses.

It seems like it'll be a pleasant night at the fair and those only just arriving in the evening will find a charming scene opening up before them.

But one thing that isn't noticed as evening begins to fall is the way the winter faeries suddenly slink away into the rising dark. Or at least it isn't noticed until it's too late. Some of the summer faeries start to react to it with alarm.

"Where did they go? The winter faeries are supposed to provide security, they signed an agreement. Go tell Ponto and get some faeries with warding magic to shore up the wards." Faeries start flying with purpose to speak to others that need to be put on security. "We can handle it ourselves but we need to get enough people out to the borders."

"Should we disperse the faire?"

"No, there's no sign of any threats and if we re-ward it, they'll be safer here than people scattering in the woods at night. Even if we had the bad luck to be attacked before the wards are re-done we can defend them with our magic - and we're contracted to."

Unfortunately that bad luck hits too soon. While the faeries scramble to re-do the defense wards, an unearthly fog rolls in. Terrible screeches start to rend the air, sounding similar to the screams of foxes. Warning bells ring from warning wards placed in certain areas of the woods.

"Nightrenders!" someone calls out and people in the crowd start screaming, gathering their loved ones closer. Horrifying beings start to pour into the faire and the hand stamps of all the people who bought tickets ahead of time start to glow. Faeries rally around those people, casting powerful defensive spells. Due to the panic, several stalls start to go up in flames due to knocked over cooking fires. Fortunately the stalls are small enough for people to escape them easily and spread far enough apart that they can be avoided, but smoke joins the fog in the air.

If a faerie sees one of the squad of otherworlders, and their lack of glowing hand stamp they're quick to offer a warning. "You have to run! The people who bought tickets ahead of time entered into a magical agreement of protection. The warding takes time to charge. We can do nothing for you, without slow-charge wards we're not powerful enough to protect you. The Nightrenders will devour your brain, or your soul."

Apparently that little disclaimer about not being fully protected that some of them read while coming in (for those that had arrived earlier in the day) was more important than it seemed.

The faeries always point the same way, still trying to help the people without tickets. "To the north! There's a place in a canyon with a large, glowing crystal. It looks like an abandoned market and dwellings. You'll be safe there, the magic of the Heartstone will protect you."

USEFUL LINKS

Setting Background/FAQ | Major NPCs


NIGHTRENDERS

The beings known as Nightrenders start amassing on the faire. Their movements are quick but clumsy, as if every one of their movements is made up of a hundred janky, smaller fits and starts, like they're made of clockwork. The faerie magic summer faeries use seems to do no more than stagger them back or temporarily knock them over, but at least makes it clear to the squad that they at least can be knocked over and slowed down. At the very least it seems to take them some time to get off the ground and back to their feet.

Attacks

They attack anyone they see in different ways. Some they wound with massive claws. Or they squeeze someone's torso and nearly suffocate them to give them a chance at possibly chomping into the heads of their victims to get at the brains. Most dangerously of all, they breathe in with a loud sucking noise, clawed hands guiding the magic that lets them drawn out someone's soul to devour it. It looks like a small delicate thing, sometimes in the form of a glittering star or a flower, as its drawn out of the victim's mouth.

This process can fortunately be interrupted if the Nightrender is attacked. As long as the soul hasn't been sucked into their mouths, it goes back into the victim.

Cursed Aura

But the whole thing is complicated by the magical aura caused by the Nightrenders. When they draw close, everyone around them is choked with fear, grief, and dread. Some succumb to visions of their worse memories playing out in their heads over and over. Some might be able to still stagger away in this state, trying to see through the visions, especially if someone helps them along, but others will find it nearly impossible to do anything other than curl on the ground. It is unknown why some don't have the flashbacks or can power through them more than others, though it's thought that those that repress their bad memories or negative emotions struggle more.

Anyone that helps someone who's having visions may get a glimpse of their memories - and empathically feel a flash of the pain, fear, rage, or grief they felt during the memory. If two people try to help each other move forward when both are having visions, they may transmit glimpses back and forth.

Weaknesses

The Nightrenders cannot be destroyed, only knocked down, or slowed down. However, those with "holy" weapons, spells, or powers, or those who have weapons, spells, or powers that can hurt "ethereal" beings or evil spirits will find they can cause them enough pain that sometimes they run away. Spells and abilities that create magical manifestations of good will and happiness, as well as spells of light, or purification can also harm them and drive them away.

THE SISTERS

The Nightrenders don't speak, but some have the misfortune of hearing two voices echo out of the fog. The come in stereo, only just slightly out of sync.

"Chosen Ones, you must be so confused. You've become lost in the forest, and the Dark Lord's nightmares already pursue you. Fortunately for you, our mistress desires your company. You'll adore obeying her will. Don't run, embrace a better destiny."

Two woman in white masks and straw hats, with cloaks made from the feathers of ravens, come out of the fog, body language almost identical. No eyes can be seen through the eyeholes of their masks, just darkness.

They start attacking, and when they beset their victims they stop speaking, refusing to talk or answer questions, instead filling the air with wild, mocking laughter. One wields twin katanas, the other a kusarigama with a painful claw at the end of the chain that closes down when it hits something.

Nets

While they're extremely willing to injure the squad they seem to be trying to capture them instead of killing (albeit capturing them after they're maimed), occasionally tossing out nets of glowing silver of moonlight. Being caught in the nets renders someone paralyzed and weak, a deep cold settling into the marrow of their bones. Some may even hear the shrieks of dying loved ones, whether they've actually died in reality or not. The Sisters apparently have the strength to carry even the largest of the squad in the air and will attempt to fly away when someone is ensnared.

The nets are difficult to destroy, but can be with great force of some kind. It has to be aimed at the part closest to the Sisters' hands, because the force required to break the nets would also injure those trapped inside them. The cold and paralysis fades when the victims are free, but some of the rescued may feel weak and need help staying on their feet. Unfortunately, even when they're broken, the nets of moonlight seem to be something they can recreate within several minutes.

Smoke Monsters

For some, they don't attack directly. Instead, one of the sisters pulls out a pipe and smoke monsters pour out of it. They try to drag their victims closer to the sisters so they can be caught in their nets. Fortunately, they can be destroyed with enough force.

While the Sisters seem impossible to injure, they can at least be caused pain with extreme enough attacks, something that makes them teleport away before risking any further injury.

PROMPTS

a) RENT
Uh oh, a Nightrender has you. Either it's squeezing you so hard you're suffocating and about to chomp into some juicy brains, or it's in the process of sucking your soul out through your mouth. In either case, you're likely broadcasting visions of your worst memories in small flashes to whoever is near. You're in desperate need of rescue and the summer faeries can't help - their magic is all but useless on the Nightrenders if it didn't have time to build by a covenant. Only others that fell into the Wilderlands like you did can save you.

(Feel free to provide multiple memory options ala a memshare, but keep in mind they'd only be flashes instead of a full memory!)

b) NABBED
The Sisters have got you, their smoke monsters are trying to drag you away, or you're still trying to fight them to avoid being caught. It'll be a lot easier if you have help - otherwise you're outnumbered and possibly outclassed. The only way to stop them is fight back hard enough that they feel you're not worth the effort and teleport off.

c) RESCUE
Perhaps you're not affected by the Nightrenders or are just good at powering through the haze of painful magic they're inflicting on the area. Either way, you're out to help the people around you. Perhaps you run into another member of the otherworlder squad that needs saving - or maybe they join you to protect a third otherworlder, or a denizen of the Wilderlands that also forewent a ticket and is therefore at risk. Unlike many of the people from other universes, many of the denizens of the Wilderlands are powerless and thought they were in for a day and night of safe fun.

There are also other hazards to rescue people from. Maybe a small child has been separated from their parents and is disoriented by smoke, in need of rescued from some flaming tents. Or maybe an elderly person has fallen and is at risk of being trampled. There are lots of reasons people might need help, due to fires, panicked horses, collapsing tents, and panicking crowds.

d) RUN
It's time to run! Perhaps, after some screaming and confusion - and teleportation - you finally grab a buddy and bolt through the woods. You better run fast because the Nightrenders and the Sisters may give up chase at some point but it may take time and moving through difficult terrain in the fog to lose them. Perhaps you and a partner have to help a third, injured otherworlder because they're having trouble walking.

Better head north like the faeries said. The faeries were right that this Heartstone to the north may be your only hope - and you'll have to reach it despite the fading evening light, skies overcast with dark clouds, and fog.

It may be easier navigating in the dark with a partner or two.

e) WILDCARD
Maybe you decide to do none of the above. Go nuts!

OOC DETAILS
❧ Quest magic: Players can handwave that the quest bond magic is tugging the group northward to the safe place, with the mysterious Heartstone. They can also use the quest magic as an excuse for many different threads. As the group tries to run, their scattering movements will affect the magic and cause people to teleport at random, allowing for many different encounters with many other characters. This can explain why two characters that might otherwise stay together through the whole thing might get separated.

❧ Network: The network can now be used. Mirrors can and do float if someone is trying to talk through one and running, and can follow someone as they move, allowing people to communicate on the go or during action. Feel free to start using the network in parallel with the log events.

❧ NPCing: The mods won't be npcing but players are free to npc the actions of bystanders, the Nightrenders, and the Sisters. The Sisters won't speak, just continue laughing, and players can npc their specific attacks, capture attempts, and teleportation. Please just don't have them talk or godmode them dying - they're currently a little too sturdy for that. If you have a question about whether/how something will affect them feel free to ask the mods in the first comment below.

❧ Environment: Feel free to manipulate the environment. There are things left over from the faire people can work with like bow and arrow sets from the competition, horses (which can be temporarily stolen, though we'd like to limit any that are permanently stolen to the (1) horse another player already requested), and even explosive faerie fireworks (they're quieter than the normal thing but still create a big bang). Abandoned stalls also have weapons and supplies to grab as people run for it. If they didn't think to steal or buy useful things during the day, please limit this to only grabbing one or two items as they run, like a cloak or sword. They won't have time to loot for more.

❧ Experimentation: We'd like to encourage people to experiment! Obviously ask other players if they're down first, but it could be fun to do something other than 2 person threads, like maybe 2 PCs banding to rescuing a 3rd. Players are also encouraged to set limitations if they think it'd be more interesting, like locking their final escape prompt from the faire grounds to a single thread partner and playing out the drama of a full escape.

[OOC: Plot is visible so people can see and start plotting together but not open until Nov. 1. The mods will enable comments then.]

Comments

Run

[just_ace]

Ace's ears perk up at the familiar but still utterly terrifying sound of an Ahroun in full frenzy.

The next sense to register as he scans the ongoing melee is scent. The Nightrenders themselves have a strange non-smell, like if fungus were also void. Over that there is a lot of blood and sweat and fear, but also the distinct signature of flannel, turkey grease and musk that has to belong to Mackenzie, the woman he met earlier.

It isn't long before he spots her. She is headed the wrong direction and is furiously trying to tear apart one of the nightmares. Most of the newcomers quickly learned that was futile, but full-moons are stubborn and he himself had required rescue before finally admitting they need to retreat or at least change tactics.

It looks like Mackenzie lost her cool before she could come to that conclusion herself. Understandable, but inconvenient... He likes her and has decided she is his new friend. No one has told her that yet, but that's not the point.

Oh well, nothing else for it.

Others might have more elegant solutions, but he only knows one way to stop a frenzying ahroun. Time to hug it out. This is going to hurt.

[credit_not_blame]

Stacia likewise follows the sounds of Frenzy on the assumption that she should take responsibility of whoever is making them. When she comes upon the source, she's struck by the thought that she's never been introduced to Evan Heals-the-Past: a Garou who encounters a Silver Fang and a Black Fury grappling with each other on a regular basis.

She shakes herself free of the distraction and resumes her run.

"Can you pick her up?" she asks, and fuck it's nice to be able to use High Tongue and be understood again. "We've got to move!"

[ragefeathers]

As soon as Ace's arms wrap around her, Mackenzie's rage turns to focus on him with all the unbridled fury that a Garou is capable of. Thankfully, he's managed pin her arms for the moment but that leaves her teeth free and she's snapping and snarling in an attempt to rip bits off of Ace and free herself to dance in his guts.

As Stacia gets closer, the same flashes of memory hit her--the same one that reduced Mackenzie to a weeping mess, begging Stacia to put her out of her misery.

[just_ace]

The melodious yet gutteral sound of Stacia shouting questions at him in the high tongue is something he missed, but he doesn't really have time to revel in it.

Ace is managing to keep his vital organs out of play for now but controlling Mackenzie much more than that is going to be tricky.

If he lowers his center of gravity he could probably get her over his shoulder but that would free her to rake his back relentlessly with her claws. He wouldn't make it far like that.

He manages to shout "Not sure. She is about as angry and pointy as they come. May have to wait the frenzy out."

Between breaths he is innundated with chaotic flashes of memory. That they are similar to the stories of so many other Garou doesn't diminish them in the slightest. If anything it heightens the tragedy and sorrow.

He blinks them away because he can't afford to give them any space right now but he won't forget them. These sorts of memories should be whispered to trusted friends, screamed at the open sky or chanted at Moot with Pack and Sept to aid with comfort and with vengeance. It is a violation to have them ripped from your mind and broadcast to strangers.

He did not consent to the visions but he spares a brief thought only to confirm to himself that he does consent to the burden they represent. He will mourn Mackenzies dead as if they were his own. It is the only act of defiance to the Nightrenders he can take.

Then he feels the flow shift. Time slows to a crawl and suddenly it is his memories pouring out.

His heart beats and he is somewhere else.

Stacia, all four of her limbs severed, the stumps cauterized with silver, a letter on pristine stationary with a wax seal placed carefully next to her. Her mental screams barely registering next to the deafening silence in his mind where Lilly's happy voice had been.

Another heartbeat and he is back in the fight. He shuffles his feet in the dirt, struggling to maintain leverage.

His heart pounds in his ears

Flash

Stacia again. She is now whole somehow and she does not appear as herself, but it is clear in the way of dreams that it is her. She looks on with cold satisfaction as her revenge comes to fruition.

Before her are a pack of Silver Fangs. The very same as left the letter and the other bloody 'messages'

One of the Fangs, a Theurge speaks. In the memory there is no sound but the intrinsic knowledge that he is revealing a dirty secret.

The pack's Galliard fathered a child with another Garou, an unforgivable sin in the eyes of their alpha. Information dug up and positioned just so to give rise to this very confrontation.

This is but one of many details meticulously brought together with calculating precision. The curtain risen, the players set, the pack of fangs that maimed and killed as if they had the right dance on Stasia's strings.

The Alpha flies into rage and the Theurge, terrified despite being only the messenger, tries to flee. When the Alpha finally regains control there is nothing left of his pack but motionless heaps of fur and viscera coating the walls.

Stasia doesn't lift a finger. Her expression does not change

A heartbeat

The struggle continues. Mackenzie has no shortage of rage to fuel her frenzy. The only thing keeping this from being much worse is that Ace can employ strategy while Mackenzie can be counted on to be as aggressive as possible.

He isn't really sure what to do except hope he can wear her out before the flashes of memory make him slip or she gets in a lucky hit and his intestines end up scatteted across what is left of the faire grounds.

cw: gore, mutilation, violence

[credit_not_blame]

Stacia winces under the onslaught of memories flickering off of both Mackenzie and Ace. Ace's in particular result in their reflections from Stacia's memories -- a flash of lying on the floor, helpless and terrified and in agony, the scent of blood and burnt meat in her nose, wondering where her parents are, were they home when the invaders came? Another flash, watching a pack of Garou tear each other apart and knowing she's responsible and not regretting an ounce of the pain she's inflicted on them.

She tries to shake it off.

"I don't know if we have time for that," she says. "We're going to have to-- hang on."

She's gotten so used to not having her Gifts that she hasn't even checked. But she thinks she might feel a stirring in a place that's been numbed since she woke up on the Rig.

"I might be able to direct her! Point her toward the trees!"

Re: cw: gore, mutilation, violence

[ragefeathers]

Mackenzie's violent thrashing grows more fervent and more frenzied as the new memories hit her. Stacia. Sweet, wise, ferocious Stacia reduced to that state and by her own people. The injustice of it, the sheer Rage that boils out of Mackenzie's mind, through her skin, from her very bones. There has always been muted anger in her about the way Garou culture treats people, at the way it uses people up and spits them out to become heroic tales for another group of young idiots eager to die for the cause. It explodes out of her now in a howl of rage and pain and grief. For Stacia, For Tia, for Eli, for Gabby, for Lydia. She's lashing out now even more, if that's possible, claws and teeth scrabbling for purchase on poor Ace.

There's nothing left of Mackenzie right now. Only white-hot anger.

Re: cw: gore, mutilation, violence

[just_ace]

Ace grunts with effort, digging his feet into the earth in a desperate attempt to remain upright and in control. One slip and he will be just another sad footnote in the ongoing tragedy their mingled memories represent.

To Stacia, through gritted teeth he manages to say, "If the she can fall into the thrall of the Wyrm here she is very close to it."

He begins the process of trying to point Mackenzie away from anyone she might hurt or anything that might hurt her. If he can give her a clear path to an inert but satisfying target, Stacia should be able to turn her from a dangerous whirlwind into a very angry woodchipper.

It is harder than he would have guessed. First of all, any real control in this battle is fleeting and he has to sacrifice ground several times to avoid Mackenzie twisting and sliding a claw between his ribs.

Second, many of the paths toward the woods are being crossed at random by Nightrenders that might grab or distract Mackenzie and put them right back where they started.

Still, he scans the carnage and shuffles inch-by-inch toward the likeliest path.

Unsure of what else to do, Ace focuses his mind on the memories flowing out of him.

The Nightrenders seem to call up all the darkest things no one wants to recall. Not even necessarily the worst, he realizes. The things we haven't faced. The things that have power over us.

That's probably why he had managed okay so far. In some ways he was very good at facing his problems head on and moving on. In others...

He could feel the void yawning, just at the corners of his vision. From a certain point of view he had never truly faced the emotional consequences of a single thing that had happened in his life...

Ace kneels before a figure nearly too bright to make out. She is tall in the form she chooses to present today. She wears a humanoid form, wiry but whip-strong and about four meters tall, yet somehow she is also a silver sphere so perfect it is uncomfortable to gaze at for too long.

She sits on a marble throne glowing with an inner light only dimmer by comparison to her.

Ace, stll kneeling, explains his plight. He battles a pack of fallen Garou that through deceit and guile have combined the magic of the spirits with that of the fae, of the dead and any other power they could steal or subvert. The whole of their new power so exceeds the sum of it's parts that all that remains of Gaia and her children are at risk.

Ace asks for her favor to defeat these enemies.

She does not strike him down. Her fury takes another form. There are few who posess the awareness and empathy to fully understand this request and yet retain the sheer hubris required to make it earnestly.

Perhaps he could see what had driven every other of his kin that had seen it to madness or despair.

A long burning finger raises Ace's chin then pours silver fire into his eyes.

Ace burns with the memory, channeling the rage and pain into another step toward the woods.

Many flashes of memory in quick succession.

Ace and Stacia in an old castle. Rotting food piled on the tables and bloody portraits of ancient tyrants lining the walls. Ghostly Silver Fangs feast on the stinking offal and sing songs of glory as if the food were the finest feast and the portraits were of honorable kings.

Ace walking down a hallway in the same castle, eyes that are still faintly glowing fixed on a tattered tapestry. He starts confident, becomes confused, and by the end Stacia has to help him along as large sobs wrack him and tears stream down his face.

Ace and Stacia again, back home in a forest of evergreens. He is ranting to her about how he has to do something. She agrees but asks him why again and again until he finds the piece his kind always miss.

More pilrimages to more great spirits.

Ace shows his throat to a falcon near the top of a snow-capped peak.

Stacia speaks cordially to a distinguished old man standing calmly on a cloud at the heart of a terrifying tempest. For once her body language belies her easy tone.

The inside of a blast-furnace where Ace fails but Stacia makes a deal.

Ace falters. That last memory might not mean much to anyone who sees it, but it was the moment he realized he would not survive to see the results of his labor.

The momentary lapse is costly. His arm slips a bit and he has to re-adjust his grip to keep Mackenzie's arms pinned. He does it but it leaves her head free a moment too long. He feels her fangs slide deep into the muscle of his shoulder.

Ace stands in a clearing next to a stream. Panels and plinths decorated ornately with artwork focused heavily on the duality of sun and moon litter the area. It is unclear if this place is somewhere in the world or a spiritual reflection but the group of Kings and Queens gathered here are flesh and blood.

Stacia stands back and to the side, taking in all the information she can.

Ace is speaking to the assembled royalty.

'I need you to see what we have become. I cannot force you to listen
nor do I ask you to take my word. You will listen because Luna showed me this and Falcon has agreed it is time to consider it.

Once you have seen you must act. We have to be better.

Not for ourselves. Not for our legacy or our honor or our vaunted right to rule. For our VICTIMS. We must do all we can to remedy the harm we have done even if every one of us dies in the attempt.'

Before they can protest or challenge him the fire shoots from his eyes and each of theirs begin to glow.

He screams but cannot pry Mackenzie's jaw loose without making things worse. He has her mostly pointed in the right direction now but he will have to time this just right with Stacia.

Re: cw: gore, mutilation, violence

[credit_not_blame]

Like any other skill you have to practice if you want to be any good with the magical gifts Garou can learn from spirits. And after a year and a half with her Gnosis bound, Stacia's rusty. Direct the Storm can only be learned by Shadow Lords who have achieved the rank of Adren; it's one of the more powerful gifts that Stacia has and it involves touching and molding someone else's Rage. And Mackenzie's Rage is a wild, writhing thing that's been gnawing deeper into her since the deaths of her packmates. It's good to have it out in the open instead of turned inward, but oh does it have teeth.

The flashes of Ace's memories of Stacia's future don't help. She wants to ask, her sincere curiosity about people is one of the things that makes her a good Ragabash, the desire to know them and understand them, and Ace is her dearest friend and longest-running project. She wants to know what it all means and it tears at her focus. She needs to concentrate.

"Let her go on three!" she yells over the sound of Ace's agonized roar. "She'll let you go! One! Two!

"THREE!"

Re: cw: gore, mutilation, violence

[just_ace]

Too distracted by the pain and the memories to be certain of much, Ace lets go on sheer faith, throwing his arms wide.

Faith only carries him so far, though, and his instincts prevent him from just standing there and hoping Mackenzie doesn't disembowel him.

After a quick shout of "She's loose!" to Stasia he leaps backward...

The world goes a searing white. In the rush to avoid a parting shot from Mackenzie's claws he doesn't give her time to completely release her jaw. Her teeth leave furrows in his shoulder and take a chunk of flesh and fur with them. When his feet hit the ground again his knees buckle and he slides an undignified meter on his backside.

He will be able to push through the pain once he regains his feet. He is pretty resilient so he probably won't bleed out either, but a Garou's bite is no joke. It will take time to heal, especially if he doesn't see to the wound soon.

He pushes himself up and surveys the field.