Wow, to anyone that has stuck with me this far I'd like to offer a special bit of thanks. When I started this story I never dreamed it would go on like it did. (If you care the original plan was to have only up to the fight atop the lake where the ronin would finally show up and save people and kick backside...needless to say things sort of ballooned out from there.) As of this post I think I've fixed my overactive........pause spaces in the whole piece. (Alert me if this is not so please.) Also this chapter contains a lot of philosophy and self introspection. Hopefully you'll learn more about all of the major characters. (I promise the next two chapters will overflow with violence and carnage though) As always questions/comments/rants/demands/and people who also love apple-butter may contact me at arcanloth@hotmail.com.
P.S. *Special Notes* I would first like to thank Icy Mike
Molson for his help in the entire werecrow argument. It was his
idea and I bow down in thanks (and humbly rip him off for some of
the dialogue) Second, FuryS Forge...you asked if you should
consider Jo the traitor. I'd actually be very appreciative if you
could tell me what spawned this thought/idea/personal madness of
yours. (Y'know, which sections/actions made you suspect her)
Besides all that, please read on and enjoy...
Fall of The Heroes: A Tale of Detroit
Chapter 5: Storms Split The Sky
"From what you had told me before I thought that one was long gone and useless," whined the man as he stood over his rune carved floor. His cry echoing through the dark cave tunnels. He nervously ran his hands along his belly, his face jerking about in anger and fear. He began pacing, his tattered black robes flowing about his bent and wiry body. The dark shadow who had been speaking frowned slightly.
"Do you question my knowledge?" The question was quiet and calm, but the man quickly shivered in terror and shook his head.
"Of course not my lord, of course not! I was simply...worried about the possibilities. If the bird is with them," the figure nervously twitched his face and brushed his fingers across it. "The bird...if the bird is there, and he is indeed alive and active. Then with Dominic three of them are together again. They could become a problem, especially if they return to the Fangs and collect Argent."
"Argent is an old buffoon well past his prime," said the shadow with a soft chuckle. "If he is so senseless as to crawl off his deathbed his meddling foolery will mean nothing. No, it is the others that concern me."
"But you have Fer-guath and his packs hunting them," reasoned the man as he leaned down and again began looking over his circle. "As well as the corrupted human corporation. Why do you need distract me? Go use your precious vampires and wolves and leave me in peace." The shadow shifted slightly, a finger on one of its hands lifted to point at the man. He suddenly gasped and reached up to grab at his face, feeling as though mountains of pressure were pushing in on his skull. He groaned as his eyes bulged and he felt as though his head would collapse under the strain. Then, as suddenly as it had come it was gone. He sighed as he looked up weakly at the quietly grinning shadow. "What would you have of me, master?"
"One is no matter, two is company, three is a crowd. But four? Four and they are no more. I do believe it is time for them to all get reacquainted." The shadow motioned down the tunnel, and towards the faintly seen green glow beyond. His intention was quite clear. "I do so love to see a completion to old problems, don't you? A closing of the circle, if you will."
"It could be dangerous lord. Do you have any idea how many I have lost trying to control..."
"That is your mistake. Control of a Garou is a dangerous and chancy thing. But do not worry, you are only needed to summon the weapon forth. I shall not make you use it."
"And," swallowed the man nervously, "you'll keep it away from..."
"Of course," purred the shadow as it glided forward and patted the man's head gently. I will make sure you come to no harm my dear friend. You are far too important to me to lose." The shadow suddenly ran pointed claws down to poke into the man's throat. "At least...," sneered the shadow leaning in close, "for now." The man nodded nervously and rose to gather his supplies.
"I'll start immediately, it shall be done within the hour!"
The upper level of the warehouse proved to be the type of room that would make Bill Gates flush with envy. The only real light in the entire chamber came from the flashing lights and glowing screens of the swarms of computers that were stacked and positioned about the room. Charlie wandered around the room, in awe at the vast amount of gear and technological devices. He spotted the center of the vast network, a small circular space that had dozens of screens pointing at it. Various cables and wires all streamed across the floor until they entered the base of a black leather chair that sat in the middle of the circle. One of the arms of the chair had a keyboard attached to it. The other had a large flat device with a small pen laying upon it. He shook his head in confused awe at the mountains of equipment as he made his way back to the others.
"I'm so glad to see you two getting along so well," came Jo's cheerful voice.
"Yes," muttered Dominic, "interesting how many old friends I'm seeing this trip."
"You should probably get out more," chimed Jo, "obviously you're spending way too much time up at the caern and in council. You were always better in the field. Y'know, getting around and interacting with the people."
Dominic lay upon a large table. His coat and shirt had been removed and Syntax was pulling the wrappings away from his lung wound. Charlie looked in awe at the dozens of old scars crisscrossing the Shadow Lord's body. Syntax's small elegant fingers delicately probed at the lung wound as she eyed it critically. She nodded as she pulled a small device off a nearby cabinet and pointed it at the wound. A pale blue light was emitted from the end of the device, Syntax carefully shone it over the wound. Charlie gasped in surprise as he watched the injury slowly close up. Dominic's breathing became easier and he quickly sat up.
"Your shoulder should be seen to as well," she said as he hopped to his feet.
"See to the pup first, I'm fine," growled Dominic as he grabbed his shirt and began sliding it back on. Syntax glared at him for a moment and then turned to Charlie, she snapped her fingers sharply and pointed at the table. He sat on it and lay down as she eyed his wounds.
"Your face and gut will scar, but I can remove the lingering damage. I can also theoretically deal with that arm and patch up the claws on your ribs." She grabbed up the device and began to shine it onto the holes torn in his arm. Charlie glanced around the huge room again while she worked. Jo grinned at Dominic as he finished dressing. He quickly reached out and grabbed her by the back of her jacket. She stuttered in surprise as he dragged her off to go have a 'friendly' talk. The ronin had found a dark corner to crouch in quietly. He seemed to look at and hear nothing of what was going on around him. Charlie glanced back at Syntax as she started to examine his gut wound.
"So...what is it you do here?" He was curious to learn more about this odd Glass Walker, having never met one of their tribe.
"Is not that obvious?"
Not to me," he said with a slight chuckle.
"That is apparent," she promptly responded as she circled him and leaned in to look at the cut across the left side of his face.
"What are you saying," he asked in confusion.
"I only inferred what was evident," she said calmly.
"And what was so damn evident," growled Charlie as she tilted his head to the side and pointed the device at his face. He couldn't shake the feeling she was mocking him.
"That you are apparently blind to the obvious." Charlie frowned as he worked over the words in his head, he turned to glare up at her. She paused in her work and looked down at him.
"Are you calling me stupid?"
She shook her head, "I never state the obvious." She pushed his head back to the side and resumed her work on his face. Charlie nodded.
"Oh...good," he softly muttered. He saw the ronin glance up then, his lips splitting into a small smile, but it was gone again so fast Charlie had to wonder if it had ever been there at all. She finished with his face and turned to poke and prod at the gashes along his ribs. Charlie watched her long fingers move with perfect discipline along the gashes. There never seemed to be a wasted movement by her, each delicate touch serving a purpose. He turned slightly to glance at Dominic, who was leaning down and speaking intently with Jo. "You knew Dominic already, didn't you?"
"Yes," she responded curtly, not bothering to glance up from her work.
"Where from?"
"That would seem obvious," she said as she brought the device up to the longest of the gashes and started to shine its blue light on the wound. He paused as he watched her work over his wounds.
"You know him because he's a renowned Garou," Charlie finally guessed. Syntax nodded slightly. "Well, I'm not arguing with that," said Charlie, "it's just that he seemed to recognize you too. And something about the way he looked was strange."
"Are you requesting of me to surmise his thoughts. If you are interested in emotions then perhaps you should talk to the one having them." She abruptly stood straight and set down the device. "Your wounds are acceptably rectified. You can get up now." She turned away and walked off towards the chair in the circle of computers. Charlie sat up and stretched. He did feel much better, no longer were muscles screaming in pain with each movement and breath. He hopped off the table and watched as Syntax slipped into her chair and pulled the keyboard around to sit in front of her. She swiveled the chair about till its back faced the others, hiding her from sight.
"Are all Glass Walkers like that," he said with a chuckle as he glanced over at the ronin.
"Are all Get of Fenris like you," sneered the ronin softly. Charlie winced slightly at the barb and shook his head.
"No, sorry, no offense meant."
"It was not me you offended," said the ronin as glanced up at Charlie. "But don't worry, I too did not mean my words to be painful." Charlie nodded as he walked over and sat down in the dark corner nearby.
"So what are we going to do now?"
"Rest up probably," said the ronin. "Then Dominic will doubtless have come up with some great plan that he'll drag you off on." Charlie glanced over at the ronin, whose dark eyes were locked on Dominic's back.
"What is it about him that angers you so," he asked. The ronin glanced up sharply towards Charlie, as though shocked his thoughts had been so clear. But then his head shook and drooped down again.
"He strives too hard to be a hero he cannot be."
"What are you talking about," said Charlie in annoyance. "Dominic is a great man. Do you not know of his descent into the heart of the Wyrm with the other seven great heroes? There is an epic poem about their battles. It is a celebrated victory."
"A victory?" The ronin's jaw jerked upward as he reached up and brushed his hand across a pair of scars that ran across his throat. Charlie scowled, he couldn't understand how this tribeless buffoon couldn't honor the memory of that great battle. He quickly did his best to remember the whole of the poem. He began to recite what he could.
"The pits breathed forth a dark force, to crush all the
light,
But they fought on, for Gaia, and feared not their plight.
The green mad fires.
Seemed funeral pyres.
A promise that death would come tonight.
They traveled deep under the black earth,
To a temple where evil itself was birthed.
From the darkness around them came chattering cries,
A madness filled them, that pulled at their loyal ties.
Eyes in the dark.
With fear did mark.
Whispers that their souls and friends would die.
But terror made them not turn away,
They fought corruption, and held the eyes at bay
Of the seven great heroes, know well their names.
Marn of one eye lead them to the spot, his great strength
protected their quest.
Quentin of the shattered tower, his magic saved them in that
dread nest.
Dominic, he who rends the darkness, his blade shone like the
moonlight.
Snowflake, as unique as her name, beautiful at peace or at fight.
First-to-Find, his quiet wisdom and bravery guided them on...
Charlie suddenly paused in his recital. He looked at the ronin who had slumped back against the wall, his body going rigid. His left hand spasmodically clenched open and closed. The ronin's right hand had clamped around his own throat, and was squeezing it tightly. The fingers of his hand digging in along the old lines of the scar. Charlie frowned in concern as he watched the tense strain on the ronin's face. He reached out and clasped the ronin's shoulder.
"What's wr-" he suddenly jerked back in surprise as the ronin's eyes snapped open, burning with anger. His hand hissed off his throat to grab Charlie's wrist and bend it sharply backward. Charlie gasped in pain as he was pulled out of his sitting posture and pressed to the floor by the seemingly simple move. Then, as suddenly as it had happened, it was over. Charlie looked up in surprise as the ronin released him and slumped back against the wall weakly.
"I am sorry," sighed the ronin as he closed his eyes as though very tired. He slowly clenched his hand closed and seemed to force it down to his lap. "Just...just never speak that poem around me again." Charlie nodded fearfully as he scrambled to his feet and retreated out of the corner. He spotted Jo hanging out with Syntax and curiously wandered over to hear what they were discussing.
"Well?" Syntax glanced up slightly to look at the Corax as she rocked back and forth on her heels and watched the Glass Walker type at her keyboards.
"The spirits are out, I shall tell you what they learn when they get back." Syntax returned to her typing, her eyes dancing over the screens in front of her.
"Well?" Syntax didn't bother to look up this time.
"I have no answer other then the one I have given you the last six times you questioned me." Charlie grinned slightly as he walked over and tapped Jo's shoulder.
"What's going on?"
"Oh, well Syntax here is a Theurge, and supposedly," Jo twisted to smirk at Syntax, "a good one. She's checking out where the Spirals and other people hunting us are. Then she'll be able to figure out the best way for you and Dominic to get out of the city."
"Ah," Charlie turned and nodded with a smile at Syntax, "thank you very much."
"It is irrelevant to thank me before I have successfully accomplished the services for which you seek to give me those accolades." Syntax picked up the pen and swished it over the plain white board in front of her. Charlie glanced up at the multiple screens overhead and the blurred image of the cursor as it zipped about and began clicking various points upon a digital map of the city. Other windows popped open on the monitors as Syntax hooked into various surveillance cameras and other monitoring devices. His jaw dropped slightly as he watched her zoom in on various groups of suspicious looking people lurking about the area.
"Bingo," cheered Jo cheerfully as she clapped her hands. "But...ah, those guys don't look like Dancers, how come?"
"More then likely it is because they are not Dancers," said Syntax sharply. She clicked on her keyboard and caused one of the screens to appear on a larger monitor in front of her. She tapped the pad with her pen and the image shifted and magnified on the licensee plate of the car two men were standing by. She turned to the keyboard and typed in a quick series of requests. Another screen flashed as it scrolled down a list of vehicle registries. "The car is listed as a company conveyance of Allied Chemical and Plastics Corporation."
"Allied Chemical," snarled Dominic as he strode over to stand next to Charlie. "Why am I not surprised?"
"Surprised at what," asked Charlie as he glanced questioningly at Dominic.
"The truck," said Dominic quickly. Charlie shook his head slightly, still confused. Dominic sighed. "When I asked the dumpers at the lake who they worked for. They said Allied." Dominic growled slightly as he considered the events. "The people in charge of Allied have to have been corrupted into service of the Wyrm. They were in on the ambush and now they're helping to hunt us."
"And are involved in the dumping scheme," chimed in Jo helpfully. "That is what you were originally out there trying to do something about after all."
"What do you know about them," Dominic asked Syntax. She quickly began typing again.
"I know little, they have kept their records well protected and hidden from easy public access. However by checking on their copyright and patent information I can access some board members. From there I can undoubtedly track some financial and tax records. That should give me a hint on building permits and deeds that I can use to help track their employee numbers..." Screens flickered and flashed, a printer began humming in the background. Charlie glanced around in awe as the entire room seemed to explode into a wild intensity of life. Dominic smiled slightly as he looked around at it all.
"I see you finally got your 'jungle' working," he said with a half chuckle. "Perhaps we did judge too quickly its lack of merit." Syntax glanced over at him slowly, her gray eyes holding little humor. Jo cleared her throat nervously.
"So...about Allied?" Syntax turned away from Dominic and tapped another button. A nearby printer hummed as a series of papers were printed out. Jo walked over and grabbed them. "Wow, offices, factories, private estates. These guys have a big load of money on their hands. Hey...nice beach-front stuff. Why can't I get that sort of place?"
"What about that dumping," asked Dominic as he walked over to stand by Jo. "Is there anything that might explain what they were up to?"
"Doesn't look like it," muttered Jo as she flipped through the papers. Naw, nothing here about that, literally nothing. Oh well, a mystery for another time."
"Is it?" Dominic turned back to Syntax. "Exactly how many of their special agents do they have out hunting for us?"
"Many."
"And how many does that leave them to guard their offices?" Dominic grinned coldly at the words. Charlie looked up at him in surprise. Jo's jaw dropped slightly as she issued a gurgled cry of annoyance.
"One third their regular compliment by my calculations," said Syntax sharply. "More then likely their least efficient agents. It does appear an optimal time to strike."
"Do you have a map? Where are the offices? Best ways in and out?"
"Whoah! Hold on here just one second!" Jo quickly planted herself between Dominic and Syntax. "It's not the optimal time, or the best time, or prime time! There are plenty of reasons it's not, literally. Okay, three reasons. One, you are weak, tired, and worn out. Two, we have practically every damn Spiral in the state out on the streets hunting for your sorry backside. Three,...okay, I don't have a three, but one and two should be enough!" Dominic looked down at her, his mouth lifting in a crooked grin.
"I would have expected more out of a Corax. Aren't you supposed to dig up secrets?"
"Well sure, but I like to stick to the secrets I'll be around to tell later on!" Dominic reached out and shoved her aside.
"I don't plan to allow the Dancers to try and kill me and a pack easily. This will teach them their mistake, we strike when they least expect it. It's an old and wise lesson of when to attack. Known and practiced since Sun Tzu wrote it in The Art of War."
"Well when Zu and the other sons get here to help you we can discuss it. But how the hell are you and Charlie going to do this alone?" Dominic glared down at her. He then slowly turned his head to glance at Syntax. She met his gaze evenly and nodded.
"I shall help." Dominic smiled thinly and glance at Charlie. Charlie nodded quickly. Dominic turned back to look at Jo. She crossed her arms and muttered slightly under her breath.
"It's a bad idea. It's a reckless idea. Literally...I think it's literally reckless." Jo shook her head and glanced up at Dominic. "Still...it might be nice to run with some of the old group again." She suddenly smirked at Dominic, an odd gleam entering her eyes. He frowned even as she started to grin wider. "I go if he goes." She nodded her head to the quiet figure of the ronin. Dominic scowled as he turned to look over at the dark corner. Charlie watched the hunched figure expectantly. The ronin looked up slowly from where he sat. His dark eyes flicked across each of their faces.
"It is pointless and absurd to risk your lives so." The ronin stood up slowly and turned towards the stairs. "I did not wish to become part of this madness again."
"Don't be like that man," whined Jo as she skipped across the room to catch his arm. "We could really use you on this one."
"Let him go," snarled Dominic, "if the urrah wishes to crawl back under his rock that is his business. Let him continue to drown himself in booze and self pity."
"Don't listen to him man," urged Jo as she tugged on the ronin's arm. "Stay and help, it'll be like old times." He glanced down at her, his face a grim mask of pain. Jo grimaced and shrugged. "Okay, maybe not just like old times, but..."
"Yes, old times." Dominic slowly walked forward, his eyes locked with the ronin's. Charlie swallowed nervously as he saw the ronin go tense, his eyes staring back at Dominic's unblinkingly. "I know how much I'd like to go on a mission with him acting just like old times." The ronin pushed Jo away from him as he stepped forward to stand directly in front of Dominic. "So urrah, do you feel that old fire. Perhaps you'd like to silence me? Why not use your claws? Cut me deeply. Put me down." The ronin's lips curled back, his hands flexed open. Jo suddenly shoved herself between them.
"Stop it, both of you! Dominic, just shut up! Literally shut up!" Charlie blinked in surprise as Jo whirled her head around to glare at both of them. Her eyes sparkling angrily, her fists clenched. "What's happened to you two? Why can't you just get over it?" Dominic snarled as he glared down at her.
"I told you I didn't expect you to understand Josephine, but I'd at least expect you to respect my reasons! Why don't you go meddle in someone else's life and stay out of mine."
"Yes," agreed the ronin as he twisted his arm and pushed Jo back from him, she staggered away. "Why don't you just stay out of all of our lives?" He turned and walked out of the door and down the stairs. The doors slamming behind him. Jo lowered her head and shoved her hands into her jacket pockets. She turned away, her shoulders shaking slightly. Charlie lowered his own head, confused and hurt by the anger of the others. Dominic slowly turned back around to look at Syntax.
"So," Dominic grinned slightly, "what information can you give us about their office?"
"This is foolishness," muttered Snapback as he stood next to the pickup truck Argent had obtained for their use. "We are to follow that doddering old fool back into the trap the others died to save us from? It makes no sense." Leona said nothing as she stood leaning against the side of the truck. Snapback had been acting rather strangely about the whole prospect of the mission. Usually he was the one eager to rush off and engage the enemy in face-to-face combat. Now he had been angrily arguing with her about the entire idea ever since she had offered to go. Leona turned away from him to look up at the moon. The slim silver crescent looked almost like a smiling mouth in the sky above. She hoped it smiled with pride at them, rather then laughed at their actions.
"Is all prepared?" Argent came slowly walking out of the dark woods. He was dressed in simple gray slacks and a white collared shirt. He leaned on his walking cane with his left hand, with his right he held up a small bundle to Leona. "I suspected you would need a bit of help replacing your clothes in a hurry. I trust they will fit." She shrugged and pulled on the jeans and T-shirt. They were too big, but fashion had never made much sense to her anyway.
Snapback climbed into the driver's seat as Leona hopped into the back passenger space. Argent gingerly pulled himself up into the passenger seat as Snapback started the engine. They rode quietly down the winding back trails that led from the few houses up in the hills and down towards Detroit. Leona spared one last longing glance back towards the peaceful mountains and valleys of the bawn, before turning to look at the brightly glowing garish lights of the city spread out below them..
"This plan makes little sense. What shall we accomplish, what can you learn?" Snapback muttered his doubts with a scowl as he pulled off the dirt road and onto a paved street. "How are we even going to find them within that accursed city?"
"Poor lad, isn't it obvious?" Argent rested comfortably in his seat, his wrinkled face splitting into a warm grin. "Just because I'm old doesn't mean I'm helpless. I may not be able to rip apart a Dancer as I once could, but I can still talk to the spirits."
"Phaugh, the spirits of the city are sick things."
"Perhaps, but they are just as effective if you know how to talk to them." Argent reached out and patted Snapbacks hunched shoulder affectionately. "Relax young one, this may not be as difficult as you fear. We shall find them and help them escape the Dancers' tracking."
Leona watched as Argent turned back to watch the approaching lights of the city. She watched the orangish glow of street lamps wash over his face slowly. She saw the slight glint within his pale eyes. She could imagine him having that same look many years ago, when he had gone forth to face the evils of the Wyrm with other great heroes. She found herself actually relaxing somewhat. Finding a reassured strength in Argent's calm demeanor.
They arrived in the city without incident. They drove to the park where the ambush had taken place. Leona looked quietly at the shattered chunks of ice floating in the lake. She wondered again if she had been right in allowing Snapback to convince her to run. Would not Argent have gone back for his friends? To be a hero one had to act like a hero, especially when one was most scared. Leona thought again of the relic filled lodge of the elders back at the caern. She wondered if, when she finally fell, she would deserve to be remembered on those walls. Would she be given a spot so that her memory would live on. For that was what all heroes needed, to be remembered for their deeds.
"Stop here, this will do." Snapback stopped the car and peered over questioningly at Argent. The Silver Fang simply grinned slightly as he climbed out of the car. "Come Leona, walk with me." She quickly hopped out after him. He walked slowly, yet with great dignity, down the sidewalk. Leona paced along next to him, her eyes nervously scanning the dark corners and shadows of the area. Finally Argent stopped by the same bit of wall that Dominic had waited for the truck at. He leaned forward and slowly whispered to it.
"What are you doing?"
"Talking to the bricks. Simply because they have been shaped makes them no less the rocks they were before. And the spirits of the rocks are excellent sources of information. They have so little else to do, but sit and watch." Argent suddenly frowned as he turned back to the wall. "No, when I said a little while ago I meant hours, not years! A man who fought here tonight." He glanced back up apologetically and shrugged. "Well...there are a few drawbacks..."
Endelon sat patiently on the rooftop and watched the pair stand by the wall. Yes, he had been wise to return to the beginning of the hunt. He had simply thought to recapture the fresh scent, instead he had found new prey. He recognized the female and the young man as part of the group who had escaped the earlier attack. But the old man. Ah, the old man was Lord Moros Argent himself. The aged Silver Fang had finally once more dragged himself away from his precious home by the caern. Dragged himself into danger.
Endelon's lips curved upwards into a satisfied grin. From under the dark hood of his coat his dark blue eyes carefully watched all of their movements. He knew they were here for their friends. They would be going to them soon. He grinned as he felt the cold hiss of pain from his klaives as they burned against his chest. Yes, they too sensed the hunt that was to come. Let Kendar sit and obey Fer-guath's orders. Let the tribe wait and do nothing. He would be gaining glory in battle.
Few were the things that could arouse any trace of true emotion within Endelon. In truth he hardly cared about them. Brief moments of camaraderie with Kendar notwithstanding, he didn't care much for his tribe. Their pointless strutting and rutting filled him with boredom. He remembered the first time one of his packmates had tried to mate with him. It had been Endelon's first true kill. But now he felt one of the few emotions he did experience. Eagerness. He waited and watched as they climbed back into their truck and drove off. Little did they realize they now had a shadow following them. A shadow with cold dead eyes.
The unending pain and madness were gone. The brain had cleared of the confusion and agony. Never had thoughts seemed so simple. Never had everything felt so clear. The pale green glow filled the room, a comforting reminder of the past. Two figures stood nearby. One was a thin man with scraggly hair dressed in a ragged black robe. His wide eyes nervously twitched about, his hands rubbing along a old scar on his belly. Fear was evident in his smell and stance. That thought brought pleasure, it was good he should fear. They should all fear, all fear what they had released.
The second figure did not fear. He was an inky blot of darkness, hard to make out. His arms were crossed loosely over his chest. His shadowed face was split with a small grin. His eyes watched eagerly. He was the power here. A power all did fear. His manner was that of a creature that did not have concern of predators. His eyes stared ahead, straight and unyielding. None could match that gaze.
"I trust you have enjoyed your time within the Pit." Muscles tensed, the Pit...that had been the pain, the madness. The whispered words and invasive touches. There had been a time before the Pit. Life had been different then. As it was different now. Out of the Pit, this was better then in the Pit. "Do you know why I had you freed?" Free...free of the Pit. He had done it. Pleasure, there was pleasure at the thought of being gone from the Pit.
"This is not wise," muttered the scrawny figure in the robes. "Look, no change has come to the body. How can you be sure that the process worked?" The voice of the man was warbled and annoying. Anger, hatred. The man was not to be trusted. He had been responsible for much of the pain, for that he would pay.
"Calm thyself," said the shadow as he stepped between them. "You should remember how far along we were before we even tried the Pit. It is not a concern if the body remains unchanged. Tell me, would you like revenge for the time you spent in the Pit?" Revenge for the Pit? Did he need to ask? He spoke of those that had caused it to happen, described them. They seemed familiar. He spoke of the hunt, and what was needed. The mind grew sharp and cold. It seemed to easily form thoughts and plans for dealing with them. For dealing revenge.
The ronin walked down the dark streets alone. Around him the humans wandered about on their nightly chores. Cars drove past, their lights and engines creating a cavalcade of noise and activity. But he was alone, alone and with himself. Urrah, that was what Dominic thought of him. He believed him responsible for what had happened. The ronin couldn't argue, he felt responsible. Jo had looked sad when he had left, her eyes filled with worry for him. Charlie too, the young pup looking like some dream of his had been shattered. Shattered like glass on cement. Shattered like his life. Better to have the dreams shattered now, early, to save him pain later on.
A wind rustled through the city, gently tossing his long red hair. The ronin shifted slightly, his arm wrapped about his box. His box that she had gone through. That woman. That Glass Walker. A box he hadn't bothered to open since that day. She had had no right to go through it thus. He had seen the look in her eyes, she had known what the items meant to him. He shifted his grip as he crossed the street. It was better this way, he thought. Better that he hadn't gotten involved. Better for him, and better for them. The violence was not the way. Battle was not the way. Death was not the way. Not the way of Gaia. Yes, he nodded to himself. Better this way then to go. Let them if they wanted to, it wouldn't matter.
A sudden muffled scream startled him from his quiet musings. He turned and peered into a nearby alley. Amidst the steam billowing forth from a vent he could see three struggling figures. Two men. One woman. She was being forced down to the ground by one. The other chortled with laughter as he began to unhook his belt. The ronin's eyes narrowed slightly. He felt a sudden flash of anger course through him. He turned and walked into the alley, his eyes glinting in the darkness.
"Hold her Jacko, hold her good. I'm gonna ram this bitch into next week." The man pulled his pants open and dropped down next to the struggling woman. He grabbed her kicking legs and started to peel them open. Jacko grinned as he lay on his back and hugged her tightly to him. His hand clamped over her mouth and his arm wrapped tightly around her chest. The young woman continued to madly struggle, her eyes wide in fear. "Okay bitch, you ready? You ready for the hammer?"
"Hey." The word was spoken softly, but it still seemed to shock the two as they looked up in surprise. The ronin stood quietly next to the steam vent. The rising white mist brushed about him, hiding him partly from view. However his eyes could be clearly seen, practically glowing in the dim light. "Leave her alone."
"Or what man? You wanna play fucking hero?" The rapist stood up and pulled his pants back up around his waist. As he did he pulled a large knife from a sheath on his back. "Why don't you just fuck off?" He waved the knife menacingly. The ronin slowly started to walk forward, his case still held casually under one arm. He growled slightly, his eyes locked on the man. The rapist took a half step back. His friend looked up at him nervously.
"Go on man, cut the fucker!"
The other man nodded slightly and quickly lunged forward. The ronin's hand snapped out as he twisted himself slightly to the side. He grabbed the man's wrist and gave a sharp turn. The man howled in pain as his arm went numb and the knife flew from his grasp. The ronin completed the maneuver by stepping in slightly and pushing down. The man whimpered in pain as he was forced to his knees. Jacko quickly released the woman and hopped to his own feet. He rushed forward, his fist sailing through the air for the ronin's face. The ronin's foot lashed up, kicking the Jacko's hand out wide. The ronin sharply bent his leg back at the knee, sending his heel cracking hard into Jacko's face. The large man crumpled to the ground unconscious.
"Take your friend, get out of my sight." The ronin released the first man. He quickly scrambled to his feet and grabbed Jacko. As he dragged him away the ronin walked up to the still shivering woman. "Are you injured?"
"No...no, I'm fine." She looked around in shock and then up at him. She started to pull herself up, he quickly lowered his hand and helped her rise. "Thanks, thanks a lot. You have no idea."
"It was nothing." He turned and started walking away. She quickly jogged after him.
"Wait a minute. Can't you let me thank you for properly? You really saved me back there!"
"It was nothing," he shrugged as he kept walking. "It means nothing in the great scope."
"Say what?" She hurried along to keep pace with him. He didn't glance over at her. "I don't know what you're thinking but what you did made a huge difference. Especially to me."
"Perhaps it did." He paused and looked over at her. She was young, her long brown hair mussed around her face. She was rather plain looking, just another faceless member of the human mobs. He shook his head. "You are young, you have yet to learn. There is a darkness in this world, it eats away at us all. Some try to fight it, but violence begets violence. Maybe tomorrow those two will be back. Maybe they'll get a gun instead of a knife. Maybe they'll start killing to make themselves feel better. The only way to fight the evil is by personal introspection. By quiet changes. By careful actions."
"You think so?" Her light hazel eyes looked up at him curiously, her face having gone sad and worried. "Maybe. Or maybe those two will never do it again. In any case you helped me, and for that I just want to say thank you. You at least helped me against this darkness of yours." She smiled slightly at him, he nodded and turned away. As he walked down the street he heard her call after him. "And if you care so much about philosophy, here's one for you to think on; Evil triumphs when good men do nothing."
Charlie squeezed between the gap in the rusty gate and into the large abandoned lot. He was now wearing a fresh set of jeans and a black T-shirt. Syntax had provided them, somehow they were a perfect fit. He walked through the tall weeds and random bits of litter as he followed the dark shape of Dominic. They had set out for the offices almost as soon as they had devised their plan. Syntax's route had thus far proved excellent. Charlie hadn't even seen a glimpse of any of the people hunting for them. He glanced over at Jo as she walked along glumly next to him. Her hands were crammed into her coat, and her eyes downcast.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Jo didn't react. Charlie kept walking and watching her. "It might help if you talked about it...literally." Jo smiled slightly and glanced up at him.
"Cute kid. You're a real cute kid. But I don't think this is the time or place for me to exorcise my personal demons." She looked up as Dominic lightly scrambled over the fence on the far side of the lot. He landed softly on the sidewalk and glanced back impatiently at them. "Besides, I'd say we'll have demons enough to face soon."
She nodded her head towards the distant twin black glass towers that loomed upon the Detroit skyline, framing between them the thin crescent moon. The Allied Towers. Each fifty stories tall, connected near the top by an enclosed walkway. Charlie eyed the towers warily. From back at Syntax's warehouse the towers had looked small and simple to deal with. Now as they came closer the black glass structures seemed to loom ever higher. They were not the tallest buildings in the city, but something about them made the hair on the back of Charlie's neck stand on end.
"That place is wrong, I can feel it." Jo smirked at his words and nodded. Charlie turned to her again and tried to grin confidently. "But I guess it's not so bad for you and Dominic."
"And why is that, kid? Are you suggesting Dominic's too egotistical to feel fear?" Jo suddenly chuckled at the comment. She glanced up to eye Dominic who stood impatiently far ahead. "Well...maybe so. But I still feel it."
"Why? Wasn't your time with the heroes in the Pit enough to harden your battle skills?" Charlie shook his head in puzzlement. "I was always told by the elders that battle experience bred confidence. That any Garou who went through that sort of experience would come out stronger. I know you're one of the werecrows and not particularly suited for combat. But, why shouldn't it be applicable to all the breeds?" He glanced at Jo for reassurance, but she wasn't there. He turned around in surprise to see her standing motionless a few feet back. "Jo?"
"What did you call me?" Her small eyes narrowed as they locked with Charlie's. He would have never suspected that Jo's rounded face could suddenly appear so menacing. Her lips curled downward into an angry snarl as she glared at him. Charlie quickly backed off a step.
"Sorry Jo, I didn't mean to suggest you were a coward."
"Why the hell would I care if a Garou thought I was a coward!"
"Isn't that..?"
"Werecrow? I might almost accept you being thickheaded enough not to know I'm a Corax, but a werecrow?" Jo stormed forward and poked Charlie repeatedly in the chest. "Do I look like some killer mime brought back from the dead to you?!"
"No...I..."
Jeez, some damn Galliard you'll ever make. I'm a raven! A raven! Like Edgar Allen Poe. It was quoth the raven, not quoth the crow. At least last time I checked. Surely at least one of those big hero stories got it right, right? Learn the damn lessons and songs. There's a reason Gaia taught them to you! Or don't the Garou know that. Maybe you're just too busy worrying about other things!" She turned and stormed past him quickly. Charlie turned slowly to watch her as Jo turned to shout over her shoulder. "While you're at it you can try to learn about things before opening your big weredog mouth!"
Charlie watched Jo walk away angrily. He cursed at his own stupidity as he hurried after her. He couldn't believe he'd set her off like that. This whole night had just seemed to be one long angry argument amongst his fellows. He'd never suspected that this was how heroes behaved. He'd expected calm understanding, supportive friendship. Instead they all seemed intent on angering each other. He reached the fence and ably clambered over it. As he did Jo hopped upward, her body seeming to shrink and lift higher. A black raven flapped its wings and glided easily over their heads. Dominic nodded up to it and motioned ahead. Jo cawed once before taking wing and sailing down the street ahead of them.
"Where's she off to?"
"We used Josephine a lot for reconnaissance in the old days," said Dominic with a small grin. "Amazing how even the most alert of guards would overlook the birds over their heads. Also it usually helps her to eye out the potential battle spot early. Otherwise she tends to be too nervy to be of much help when the trouble starts."
"Does she fight then," asked Charlie in surprise. Dominic glanced back at him and smirked.
"A Corax? Don't make me laugh. No, it's just that she spots the good hiding places. Gets her out from underfoot of the real fighters."
"Oh." They walked on in silence for a while. The streets were in that quiet lull time between night and dawn. Charlie realized he hadn't had any sleep since early last night. The funny thing was he didn't feel tired, he felt alive. Yes, being here with the heroes had given him energy. Despite any misgivings about their strange arguments and secrets. He glanced up at Dominic as they walked, he finally gathered the courage to ask a question that had been bothering him. Another one of those secrets. "Where did you know Syntax from?"
"Her?" Dominic's dark eyes flicked over to glance at Charlie. "I serve on the council you know. I have dealings with many of the Garou in the area."
"Yes, but...there seemed to be some tension. And you mentioned something about dismissing her ideas for that computer setup she has."
"Ah, the 'jungle' as she called it." Dominic shook his head, then frowned and glanced over at Charlie. "It was an old matter. She wanted to create a technological jungle. She claimed she could bring forth with computers what Gaia did with nature. The council didn't approve. They...we, called it an abomination. An insult to Gaia."
"But she did it anyway? Why didn't the council stop her if they so disapproved." Dominic stopped walking. Charlie paused curiously next to him. Dominic stepped into an alley, away from the eyes of the few motorists. Charlie stepped into the dark shadows after him. Dominic's face was hard to see in the darkness. The glittering points of light in his eyes the only clue as to where he was looking. His voice went quiet as he spoke.
"Listen to me carefully Charlie 'Black Muzzle'. Galliard of the Get of Fenris. Servant of Bull, protector of the Raging Falls and nephew of Marn the One Eyed. You must realize the nature of our kind." Dominic's hand suddenly flashed upwards, his klaive held in his grasp. The flashing silver runes gleaming in the darkness. The blade seeming to almost shed a light of its own. "This is my klaive. It is called Bonespur. It was created many years ago by a great Garou Philodox known as Mourns-Alone. He made it after he had been forced to kill off two of his packmates with his own claws. Close friends who had turned to the ways of the Wyrm. He removed the arm that he had used to slay them. From it he carved this weapon." Charlie stood silently, his wide eyes locked fearfully with the gleaming points of Dominic's dark gaze. "It is a weapon made by us, from us, to slay us."
"Look at the runes Charlie 'Black Muzzle'." Charlie tried to turn away, the silver glow of the knife burning at his eyes. Dominic's hand snapped out and grabbed his jaw. The Shadow Lord slowly twisted Charlie's face back. "Look at them, Galliard of the Get of Fenris!" He did. They sparkled menacingly in the dark. The gleaming mark on one side that stood for duty. The silver symbol on the other that stood for death. "This is our message and the lesson of Mourns-Alone. We have our duty to Gaia. It is to serve her will. Her will is that we fight and die in her cause. But sometimes it is our duty to do more then die, and that Charlie, servant of Bull, protector of the Raging Falls caern. That duty is the hardest, and most difficult of our tasks. You, Charlie 'Black Muzzle' Galliard of the Get of Fenris, must learn this duty if you ever truly wish to know what all your titles mean.
"And what is that duty," asked Charlie in a fearful whisper.
"That duty." Dominic leaned forward slowly. His worn visage emerging from the darkness. The silvered reflection of the rune of duty cast across his face. "That duty is that we do Gaia's will, and then live with the consequences."
The klaive flashed once more in the darkness before it disappeared again under Dominic's coat. The Shadow Lord brushed past Charlie and back onto the street. Charlie stood silently there for a few more minutes. Staring deep into the darkness...and seeking answers.
He stared into the darkness and sought answers. None came. He shifted to look up at the refrigerator. It was empty. The police had cleaned it out when they had checked over the crime scene. His TV was gone too. Taken by the police as well, or perhaps just common thieves. His mattress had been torn apart in the fight, it was gone too. He sat cross legged on the floor. A drop of water fell onto his face and slowly dribbled down his chin. He tilted his head up to look at the ceiling. He watched the water droplet form on the AC vent. He watched it bulge and shift. Then it fell, hurtling down to him. Except for that last bit, the bit that never went with the rest. The bit that would not take the final plunge, not fall into the darkness.
Evil triumphs when good men do nothing. A simple phrase by a long dead philosopher. Spoken simply by a young woman who had almost been raped. Who knew what the world would hold for her tomorrow? What did it hold for him? A water drop fell onto his upturned face. Violence was not the way. He was so sure of that. It hadn't worked. Evil triumphs when good men do nothing. But he was doing something. What? Trying to forget? Trying to forgive? Trying to die? He opened his eyes and looked at the water stains. They were full of wild images. Images of war and death. Images and shapes of that dark place. Of the fall...
...The green pits spawned the beasts as quickly as they cut them down. He looked up as he heard the spell reaching its final incantations. Soon. This would be over, soon. Suddenly blood sprayed across him. First-to-Find had been torn apart! He looked out upon the stone walkways and saw the mad priest Malise coming forward. His eyes crackling with insanity and power. His reality warping magical energies swirling about him. He glanced back at Marn and Dominic. The two stood side by side. Bodies piled up around them as they protected Quentin with their lives. He turned to Snowflake. Her beautiful white face was splattered red with blood. But her teeth shone white as she grinned at him. They rushed forward. Their movements were deadly perfection. As though they were flowing drops of water around each other. They had trained together for as long as they had been fighting. Each knew where to block as the other struck. Where to move as the other leaped. Where to advance as the other pulled back.
The dark creatures of the pit fell away before them. His senses swam with the battle, his eyes locked on Malise. He leapt towards the sorcerer. His claws hummed through the air as he sailed in for the kill. Malise laughed, his magic energies swirling about him. Suddenly a blur leapt up in front of him, blocking his path. A jaw opened and clamped down on his throat. He reacted without thinking. Claws Flashed! A throat was torn! A hero fell. He reached out, his hand grasping only air as he stared down into fear filled eyes. But it was too late. Her small white body tumbled helplessly down through the air. Like a snowflake. He howled in sorrow at the loss. Darkness swarmed in. The end came...
...His eyes flared open as he leaped to his feet. He just as quickly dropped down again. It had been his fault, his crime, his sorrow. Evil triumphs when a good man does the wrong thing. He lowered his head, his long rust colored hair falling across his face. But what of the others. What if he could help now? What if by inaction he could commit as great a wrong as before? He reached up, his hand brushing along the pair of crescent shaped scars on his throat. He had committed the basest of crimes. He deserved the basest of deaths. But did that pup Charlie? Did Jo? Did even Dominic? He lifted his eyes to look at the ceiling.
No. They didn't, and they wouldn't.
The water stains looked like wolves.
The wolves of a pack.
You had to be loyal to the pack. He reached out and grabbed his box. He lifted the top up to open it ever so slightly and reached inside. He pulled out a small length of white silk with a patch of white fur on it. He lifted the fur to his nose and inhaled slightly. Allowing himself one last brief moment before he would act. Then his eyes went cold and calm. He pulled back his hair away from his face and tied it tightly into a ponytail with the silk. He stood up and grabbed his box as he turned towards the door. Evil wouldn't triumph tonight due to his lack of action.
