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While Mr Badger guards the door and the escaped Malk (who may or may not be fiend) Handel reaches toward the mirror. Suddenly a hairy hand grabs Handel and pulls him through. Before Badger can turn around the escaped Malk is also pulled through. Badger turns and seeing a ripple in the mirror leaps through into the unknown.
On the other side stands a werewolf covered in grey fur. He holds both the missing Malks in his hand. Easily 7 foot tall, Badger is certain he could take him. They growl at each other but only the Garou is convincing. He releases the Malks and commands the wolves behind them to hold their ground.
"We are not here to fight but will if we are provoked Weaverkin," says the Garou. "My name is He-Who-Gives-Information-To-PCs-So-They-Can-Complete-The-Story but you can call me Bill. I am a Silent Strider and have come to you with news. You are Handel W. Care and are known to the Fianna as noble and trustworthy. You may or may not be fiend and are as such hard to write about. You are known as Mr Badger and are a known consort with the Cursed Tribe. If it wasn't for the help you have been giving Mr Care we would tear you apart without a thought. You are obviously far too stupid to be a creature of the Wyrm."
Badger shows his fangs and claws with a growl. "Why I oughta rip you a new asshole ya bunch of motherfunstering furcoats!" Snarls Mr Badger.
Bill leaps forward at the same instant as Mr Badger and the fight begins.
Handel covers his face as fur and blood fly. In order to get this fight scene over and done with as fast as possible Handel picks up a spade that was lying around and sneaks up on the two combatants. SPONNG!!!! Being a member of the Sabbat Mr Badger goes down like a sack of shit at the touch of a spade hitting him on the back of the head.
"That'll hold him for an hour or two Bill."
Mr Badger wakes up just in time to not have missed any important information. Bill tales the tale of the Umbra spirits and how they are restless at the moment. He proposes that the trouble concerning the Malkavians and the Garou are linked. This meeting is to summon the spirits and beg of them information.
After much chanting and burning of herbs the ceremony begins. Handel is up to his usual tricks and is working his way through the drinks tent. Outside lie two Garou who couldn't keep up with the Kindred. Mr Badger is busy exchanging drop dead grins with the Silent Strider over the fire. Mr Badger is winning at the moment as he already has. An unfair advantage but who's counting anyway. The first spirit to appear is the pack totem Owl.
"Whooooo?" says Owl.
Bill and the rest of the pack look slightly embarrassed at this. "Same old joke," some young pup mutters before being cuffed by a huge paw.
"It's Bill, oh mighty one." The jackel headed werewolf spends a huge amount of time going through various formalities, chants, blessings and so forth. Badger and Handel look at each other perplexedly. A bottle passes hands several times before there is anything of interest to them occurring. Unfortunately, they are somewhat less than at full mental capabilities when the information they came for is finally relinquished by the Totem of Wisdom. Then there's those amnesia problems they both have at the best of times.
Owl fades out after more ceremony. Loping over to sit beside them, Bill grins toothily and says,"Well, that's all sorted out, then."
"Ummm, yeah," say Badger and Handel in their uni-slur.
"Right, so you'd better find the other movers and shakers in the Malkavians and get your acts together."
Giving Bill a worried look, Handel wonders what acting has to do with anything. "Does this guy think we're Torries?" he muses. "Better not let Badger start thinking along those lines or he's bloody chunks for sure. Mmmm, bloody chunks."
Seemingly oblivious to this line of thought (for once), Badger asks, "Where to then, exactly?
An almost deafening snuffling fills the clearing. Garou look up in surprised amazement.
The second totem to appear is a totem of war, Badger. The badger spirit stands ten feet tall with claws glistening in the moonlight. It walks over to Mr Badger and they growl in harmony together. Mr Badger feels healed of all his wounds and has a new respect for the Garou, ie. next time he'll hit the bastard while he's not looking. The Badger spirit winks at him as he thinks this and disappears.
Looking extraordinarily pleased with himself, Badger turns to Handel, shying back only slightly from the fumes. "Well, at least one of these diaphanous bastards can talk straight. Big Badger said we're to get the others, go to Egypt and rip up the Sphinx big time. . . nah umm . . . " His eyes glaze over and he starts talking in an even more gravelly voice (if that's possible). "Tunnels under the Sphinx lead to the path of reckoning. The Children of Malkav alone may walk here with ease. She who seeks their wisdom will not halt in her search until it is gained. Many parts of the puzzle will be necessary to bring about victory. Nothing is certain."
"You came over all funny just then, Badger." Handel clamps his hand to his mouth as he realises what he just said. No retribution comes from the still blank eyed Badger. "Whew." Glug
The Garou are a bit disgruntled about the gate crasher but get over it by running down and eating a number of rodents on the trail. Mr Badger joins in but seems to enjoy it a bit more then the wolves. Some of the things Mr Badger does with rabbits sickens even the battle scarred wolves.
Before things get too nasty there is a SPONNG!!!! and Handel appears with spade in fist. Not wanting to stretch the fragile peace, he has decided to take matters into his own hands. Hefting the unconscious Badger he reminds the Garou of the mission and the fact that, yet again, he has no idea where they are.
* * *
Once again Brother Semper Fi has been busy with his flame thrower. He has not been thinking too clearly since the room of carnage. Even now his mind shys away from the memory. Flames now fill the passageway behind them, and smoke is churning along ahead of it in dark clouds. Both he and the equally zealous and careless Brother Ad Astra are presently being berated by Father Zahn.
"But you told us to burn the room, holy Father!" Whines Brother Ad Astra.
"Not when we have to go through it to leave! God give me strength." Father Zahn prays.
As the heat and smoke grow closer they are forced to head along the passageway, finding the remains of one of the Damned shriveled like a husk, many kicked in doors, signs of foul sorcery, but no means of exit from the complex.
Finally, Brother Sanbenito and Brother Semper Fi enter the last room, in standard two by two formation with the others. A huge glass sphere meets their eye, but withstands the spray of bullets Brother Sanbenito sends at his reflection. Ricochets buzz around as the Inquisitors duck and bless.
"Holy mother of God," says Father Zahn as he sees one of the pieces of metal enter a huge mirror with a ripple rather than a smash.
Brother Ad Astra echoes his sentiment as he slams the remains of the door shut behind him and rushes away from it. "The fires of righteousness are right outside, Father! I fear they may not discern us from the hellspawn they have already consumed."
"Oh dear. Well . . . needs must," says Father Zahn. "Follow me, boys." A quick prayer, and he steps through the mirror. With their faith and weapons held high the others follow.
* * *
A plane lands. Eyes are on it. Less brutal but no less dangerous forms have been dispatched. They wait for a certain figure to exit the flight.
* * *
As the last of the fire rages the remainder of the mystic defences send out a distress call to the other chantries. Blood will be paid with blood.
* * *
The wolves lead our threesome of Handel, Mr Badger and the other Malk (who may or may not be fiend) out of the woods to the foot of the city.
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A plane lands. Eyes are on it. Less brutal but no less dangerous forms have been dispatched. They wait for a certain figure to exit the flight.
the fiend walks out of the plane. he looks at the figures around him and stares. they stare back.
"you can leave now," the fiend says in his best you're-eyes-are getting-sleepy voice.
"you can start running now," came the gravel voiced reply.
silence
"pardon?" squeeked the fiend.
"we've finished with you and unless you start running now they'll catch you very quickly."
the fiend ran. they chased. they couldn't find him. yet.
the fiend went to a phone and called ere....
"hi it's me.... um.... i think i've done a bad thing again....."
* * *
The wolves lead our threesome of Handel, Mr Badger and the other Malk (who may or may not be fiend) out of the woods to the foot of the city.
and in the woods......
the other malk sits up..... he lies back down again...... he rolls over.... he moves his groin into the ground a couple of times. he sneezes and crawls over to a bush. he gets up and shakes the dust of himself and looks around....
"where the fuck am i"?
"the outskirts of toronto," comes the growled response from behind him.
"toronto has a petticoat liner??"
badger and handel look at each other..... "yep. it's the fiend."
the fiend looks at the people surrounding him. he produces some tins of pal for the werewolves (no can opener though) and goe over to sit by the other two malks.
"so who are you guys?"
My name is Mr Badger, I'm here to make sure dickless overthere doesn't get into any trouble. SPONG!!!
Handel puts away the spade and introduces himself. "I'm here to make sure that his brain gets more use than his mouth."
"next. why are you guys here?"
"We're here to fight for truth, justice and the use of the word poop whenever possible. We have to collect the other Malks and travel to Egypt. There we will find the culprit of the vile traps set for our companions. Sleeping beauty down there is just in it to kill people I think."
"why am i not in brisbane?"
Handel considers for a moment. "You have been kidnaped by the evil Tremere to be used in outlandish experiments. Who knows what fate was install for you before we came along. We're actually in the forest regions of Canada. With my keen sense of orientation I can tell we're outside Toronto."
(Bloody big sign over his shoulder saying - Toronto Airport.)
"tremere?.... but the last time i talked to a tremere was..... oops. the portal.... they've been practicing that shit again..... but where would they....," the fiend's eyes went wide open. he gnawed on his lower lip and his vision settled on a twig. "arcadia. they wanted access to arcadia. the fae would be really pissed if i let the blood mages through.. and the last time i had a fae pissed with me was when i was talking to a trem.....," the fiends eyes glazed over again. "don't you hate circular discussions?"
"and finally, where did you guys buy those shoes?"
Handel says nothing but starts a practice swing with the spade. Mr Badger gets up mumbling something about legal action.
"well now that we have that sorted out....." the fiend stands up, girding his loins (ouch), "it's time to find some trouble and shoot it in the service of the computer!"
"wrong game system," handel mutters.
"ok then pal... you got any better ideas?"
"For starters lets walk away from the big hairy chaps behind us. Then let's head over to the airport bar and get a drink, my head's killing me," mumbles Mr Badger.
"Hope springs eternal...," replies Handel.
"WHAT DID YOU SAY!!!"
In a quick change of subject Handel points to the terminal building. "Hey isn't that figure over there waving at us somewhat familar?"
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Let us feel some pity for Sammy as he opens his eyes: he has been attacked by a super-powerful being, knocked unconscious, dragged around a bit and drenched with cold ice-water. Perhaps you, too, would have responded with "Burrrrrrlllllllllllllh!"
"Are you ok?" said Parr from a careful distance as the shaggy vampire faded into view. She gave him a scrutinizing look. Not a tory. Not a Tremere, or a Ventrue, nor Nossy or Gangrel. He was either a fellow Malk or (Ghod help us) another 'Antony Bandaras' wanna-be. In any case, best to tread with care-Parr didn't mix much with any of her own kind-and best to get going.
"Uhhhgh......yes?" he said as he rubbed his head, a quisical expression on his face.
"That's good. Now, what are you doing, invisible, on the floor of my chain restaurant?"
"Well, I was in this area, just hunting...." His words faded out to Parr.
Hunting. Hunting! Ha. Hunting was a sport. What he had been doing was killing, was murdering innocents. Leeching the lifeblood off of those weaker than him. MURDERING. Spilling the blood of lambs. DIRTY DAMNED MURDERING LEECH...
Parr's normally cheerful face took on a totally diffrent and frightening aspect. Without hesitation she grabbed Sammy and slammed him up to the wall. He pushed back, but for the moment she was feindishly strong, fueled by hatred. "If.... you..... ever" she said, pounding his head against the wall with each word, "come killing here again I will PERSONALLY rip out your throat with my teeth and throw you to the Garou! MURDERING DAMN LEECHES LIKE YOU DESERVE TO DIE!!"
Parr's brain spun. Murdering....leeches...like me....double damned hypocritie....'let those who are without guilt cast the first stone'...Oh God, my hands are soaked in blood, too; the souls of the murdered cry out against me...I, the leech...the damned, damned undead eternal leech...
Parr released Sammy and dropped to her knees, holding her head in her hands. "Oh God, Oh God, OH GOD!!!" she sobbed, and finnaly keeled over, unconscious.
Shaking a bit, Sammy let out a long sigh of relief and sat down heavily. What had all that been about? Had she been driven mad by the Voice? He didn't want to know; in fact he really should get out of here. But something inside him moved him to stay, so he sat by the unconscious body.
What am I going to do? Sammy pondered.
Do you have to do anything at all, Sammy?
Yes, I must tell my friends, for that Voice might come looking for them, too.
Well, if you're quite sure.
Yes.
Ok, well the first thing to do then is to wake that weird one over there up.
Are you sure? She tried to beat the bejesus out of me.
Yes, but the Voice was attacking her, too. And she might know something about it.
Well...
Do it, darn you! Wimp.
Okey, okey....
A few minutes later the room experienced a real sence of deja-vu as Sammy stood over Parr, pouring ice-water on her face. At first she barely stirred, so he tried some real ice-cubes. She jolted upright.
"Who? What? Huh?....Hey...this floor is filthy!" She frowned in disgust and then looked up.
"Who the hell are you?"
"I'm Sammy. You found me on the floor of your resturant." he said helpfully.
"Ah yes. Give me a hand up, will you? Thanks. How did I get on the floor, anyway?"
"Uh....uh....you slipped." Somehow mentioning her mental breakdown didn't seem like a good idea. Sammy rubbed the back of his head.
"Drat. Always doing that. I'm Parr, Child of Malkav." She offered her hand.
"Sammy, er, Malkavian as well." Hands shook.
"So, why are you in my restaurant, anyway? Malkavian, eh....did you happen to see this huge face with magic-marker-yellow eyes?"
"Yes! That horrible Voice! It wanted....it wanted..." Sammy pondered what it had wanted.
"Knowledge?" suggested Parr.
"Yes! Yes. And ohhhhhhh it hurt my head...." Everything seemed to be hurting his head, today.
"Yes! Do you have any idea who it was?"
"No, I was hoping..."
"Drat," Parr said, drowning him out, "I thought perhaps you would. Well we must then warn the rest of the clan--it might come after them. I'm afraid I don't...associate with any others since my Sire died the final death. Do you know of someone, some key person we could tell that could spread the information?"
Sammy shrugged helplessly.
"I guess that's a 'no'. Well there's no helping it, then, I've got to get back home and open The Box. I don't suppose" she said, cocking her head at an angle and looking at him " that you would come with me. After all, what good is the word of one Malkavian? They might not belive me. Then again, is two any better?" Parr fell into thought. Sammy stood, extremely uncomfortable, and rubbed his poor head.
Her mind made up, Parr grabbed Sammy's hand and lurched twards the front of the store. "Well, the one thing that's certain is that we've got to get moving! Come and follow me...I hope you have some means of transportation, 'cause I've only got my little Honda motorbike here...."
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Spitz paused, sniffed. Blech. Smell of dead rabbit. Dead for a while rabbit. ...maybe this was Mr.Badger's den??... no, this is it. Spooke. Knowledge. "None of us have it, all of us know it. We just know."
scrumble thump
Inside now. Find Chriss.
Spitz's eyes fell on a bundle of infant-smelling blankets. Pale hair, pale face. Grin. Come closer...
slurp
Isn't waking up to a wet lick and a cold nose great??
"What!" yells a surprise and stunned Chriss.
He falls over and gets entangled in the blanket, the lid of the portable PC snapps shut.
The over-excited canine continued in its quest and tried to pull the blanket away from Chriss.
"Stop it. G G G Get away from me."
But the protest merely encouraged Spitz on.
Eventually, Spitz is sitting across a sprawled out Chriss, licking his face....
Now normally Chriss is terrified of dogs, wolves, anything of the canine or lupus vareity (especially those annoying little dogs which fit into a pint pot and have lots of "Z" in the name), but he feels quite at ease with this thing.
Elsewhere, in his own slumbers, Spooke turns uncomfortably. GAH!! INFIDEL!! Spitz is fluffy and adorable and handsome and white and wolfish. Call him a thing, will you?? [enraged, I shall one day make a drawing of you and hang it on JoN's refrigerator]
Spitz washes the struggling youth around the ears, the stubble on his chin and the brown curly locks of hair.
"Get off me. I I I I need to get up."
Spitz was enjoying this too much.
Well, he doesn't often get a chance to eat several courses in one day. AND cover someone in spit. What joy.
"Has he had his rabies shot?" wonders Chriss.
Chriss finally manages to catch a glipse of a thick silver chain around the neck, bearing a name tag with the word "SPITZ" engraved.
"I gotta steak for you Spitz i i i if you get off."
This has an effect and Chriss was freed, but a set of expectant eyes made it clear that he'd better keep his promise. #Not overdone# Spitz thought. He hated that.
Chriss meanders over to the fridge and starts rummaging around inside.
Spitz can now see the youth clearly.
A thin gangly youth about 5'8", not as pale as other vampires, with dark curly hair and a few days of stubble. The youth could be anywhere between 16 and 20.
Chriss returns with a piece of meat and a bowl of breakfast cereal (he was very recently made, so hasn't forgotten how to eat).
Spitz growls when offered the cereal, but devours the steak with delight.
#What, no potatoes?? ...Well, the sauce is nice.#
"Are you swedish?"
"I I I I don't know what is going on, I don't know how you got in, but somehow I think I should follow you." Spitz looks up with that sort of look which says "bright kid....."
#Bright kid. Give the boy a jerky treat.#
So Chriss gets dressed (and has a brief tug of war with Spitz and his tatty jeans) and soon he is ready. Tatty jeans, battered old trainers, tatty T-shirt, coat and long scarf. He gathers up Mr Bunny, the lap-top PC and his kite.
"OK, lead on MacSpitz....."
And off they go.
Hopefully, its a cloudy day.......
Well, for starters, Spitz firmly stops Chriss from going out - he has the same trouble with Spooke... so he's used to it.
With a deep huff and a roll of his brown eyes, Spitz paws off the silver chain and promptly tangles it around Chriss' feet.
"AAAGH!!" thump
With a happy shake and a snort, Spitz settles down to lick himself in a disgusting manner while Chriss finds that what he thought was a thick silver chain is actually just a chain leash. One end is attached to Spitz's studded collar.
On the other end is a wad of PostIts that say: "The Smurfs are all ok but pirates sink ships, so I guess the fiend is a guppy. You know, they throw them down sewers and they get really big and white and yukky, the fishes not the fiend. maybe the fiend too, though. I've never thrown him in a sewer. That explains the nosies, even if they aren't giant. I don't think they live in rum, but if I was there I would. Anyway, self-serve stations are hypocrits. But what I wanted to say was that we all have to go and find people, because I brought balloonies!! Balloonies are FUN!! Also, Balthazar is out there, but we only have to worry about Gargamel. Come to think of it, there are no smurfs. That explains us, too. Hah, that'll show them tremere!! Who are you calling a damn viking?? This is Spitz, I have Alex with me, he'll take care of you, Spitz I mean. Alex, not Derenkov. You weren't at the bar, were you?? I didn't see you... but then I am wearing shades. Glasses I mean, not... ahem. The fiend says he wants to be used, but then that's nothing new, so never mind. I saw a sign that said 'Kick ME', but I don't think she'd want me to. But someone probably will, so warn her, ok?? I just saw a movie. What a good song. The movie was ok too. It was you know. I don't know. The copycat killer one. With an alien. Oh yeah, and I just saw Parr, she was in Aliens 4!! Wow!! And the Alien shredded her up and had yellow eyes... I don't remember them having eyes... I'm so sad... did you know my sire doesn't know me... he wasn't even present at my birth... sad so... sad. I'm sorry, I have to finish this game. By the way, I think the Friend was in a big bottle, better warn the fiend or he'll end up with a tux and good manners or something. How do they get those in there?? Boats I mean, not friends. I'm tired of this weather, let's go to Hawaii. See you there, bring Spitz!!
"F F F Fine, are we going to Hawaii, Egypt, Toronto or Finland?"
- overloaded with many deck chairs, a pedestal, a half-knitted hat, a tall
hat with a badge on it, CD players, warrants for somebody and hugs from a
homophobe, Spooke
ps tell parr mad hettie can come if she wants, because Del has a Borghal
Rantipole fish, and anyway find her 'cause Bastet is kind of like her and
it's really hot in Egypt
"So now we're l l l looking for a charcater straight out of Sandman. In Egypt. F F F Fisk eh? I should bring the Lutefisk then, always goes down well at parties."
pps bring lots of sunblock and some shorts
Chriss looks worried.
Short. Shorts? Shorts!!!!
You're talking about a guy who walked around New Orleans in Jeans and long sleeved shirts at the height of summer!
and your skiis - maybe we can do some on our free time
Chriss Grinned.
Last time he went skiing, he put 4 Norwegian, 2 Americans and a dutchman
in Hospital (3 of them from terminal laughter). He felt like beating the
record.
He picks up the skis and heads towards the door, but hesitates.
"Do you know w w w where we're supposed to be going?"
#Don't look at me kid, its YOUR clan. I looking for a transfer outa here!#
Chriss drops the skis, rabbit, PC and kite.
"FAEN!"
#Language!!#
"Damn you all!"
Spitz starts growling and retreats slightly.
His senses indicates a subtle change about the youth. Nothing physical, but the attitude changes. He was no longer a harmless wimp, but was rapidly becoming a dangerous psychopath, also the sudden halt in the stuttering was a subtle clue.
Spitz was suddenly feeling afraid.
#OK, I may be a wolf, but I've seen "the thing", I now know what its like to be those dogs in a confined space when it goes ballistic.....#
"WHERE SHOULD I BE!!!" He shouts.
He picks up a chair and throws it at Spitz.
Spitz Barks back while running for shelter behind the hat stand.
Suddenly as it happenend, the anger subsided.
Chriss' head start ponding with a headache, but Spitz stays back, just in case
its a ruse.....
As Chriss sits there clunching his head, but a message propogates through the Madness Network "Where should I be!" Hopefully someone will answer, PROPERLY!
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