Falcon's Wing nods. ~Right. So... we go to some useful ground, and lure. Although I fear that that may simply get us some minions.~ Peter Follen says, ~He may be drawn out, when his minions do not return.~ One Feather raises her head suddenly. Wait. Peter Follen looks over at his packmate. One Feather pauses for a few heartbeats, her head turned toward the east. She then shakes her heavy ruff and says, I felt him. He does heavy ~magic~, that way. She indicates the wilderness in the direction her head is turned. Peter Follen lifts one blonde eyebrow and looks back at Derrick. Calls-the-Lost does not think heading towards that is a good idea. Natasha shrugs. "Your best chance might be to hit him while he is engaged in a ritual." Peter Follen agrees with the other Philodox. ~If he is there, then that is where we shall find him.~ Natasha says "On the other hand, arriving just as he COMPLETES the ritual would probably be unhealthy." Calls-the-Lost wonders if he would be tired after finishing whatever he is doing. Then would be a good time to find him, perhaps. Falcon's Wing blinks at his packmate. ~If he has gone to the trouble of leaving his little den for us, why should we not take advantage of it? And as Turns the Lash says, letting any ritual be completed is... dangerous. He has to concentrate while he is Warping, but not when he is done.~ Natasha says "Tired, yes. But he might not be alone." Peter Follen's fingers close around the handle of the mace. Natasha says "If he is conducting a summoning, it would be best not to meet that which he is calling." Calls-the-Lost nods. Now, then. Falcon's Wing says, ~I would agree with that. Let us speed, then.~ Peter Follen looks uncomfortable. Speed is the one thing he can't manage very well. One Feather's posture shows an edge of impatience that she quickly controls. She then quietly points out, ~There are miles between us, quite probably. We will not know if what I felt is the beginning of a long ritual of the culimnation of a shorter one until we get closer.~ Calls-the-Lost weighs the long axe in his hands. To chop, or not to chop. Oh well, take it anyway. Calls-the-Lost contorts and blurs as he shifts into Glabro form. Peter Follen says, ~If he is so far away, we should continue in the vehicle.~ Natasha nods. Alec says ~The van's not exactly quiet. How do we know when to stop, if we want to sneak in?~ Peter Follen's fingers tighten on the handle of the steel weapon. He looks from one Homid to the other, and says nothing. He waits for Derrick to make a decision. Falcon's Wing mulls briefly. ~It's a power plant, I doubt they want random vehicles. Come, we follow One Feather.~ Alec looks at the metis. ~How fast can you go?~ One Feather shifts into Lupus form. Peter Follen looks confused by the question. ~As fast as my legs may carry me.~ Falcon's Wing looks carefully at Alec. ~If you wish to risk human interference, you can perfectly well take the van and follow at a distance. It is, however, something of a risk.~ Alec shakes his head. ~How far do we have to go? If it's a long way, two legs won't be so good.~ Peter Follen pulls the door open and steps out of the van. ~The alpha has made his decision. We go on foot.~ Falcon's Wing says, calmly and controlledly, ~We do not *know*. That is part of the problem. One Feather, are you ready?~ Alec looks at his alpha, then around at the others. ~You want anyone to scout ahead a little way? I could, if you like,~ he adds, helpfully. Natasha, despite obviously considering herself dominant to Falcon's Wing, allows him to lead. This is his hunt, she is primarilly an observer. One Feather is. The wrinkled wolf turns and begins to track the mystical trail. Falcon's Wing nods slightly to Alec. Alec gets out of the van, shifting as he follows One Feather to get an idea of the direction before he makes any attempt to scout. Alec contorts and blurs as he shifts into Hispo form. Through the dark, ill lit night and under the cover of light woods the group skirts the fence of the sight, heading east. A short time later brings a stronger sense of the location of the magic to the Uktena, and the others spot lights off in the distance in the woods. Works lights, of the portable spotlight variety as well as another softer, reddish glow. Calls-the-Lost keeps a little ahead and to one side of the others, still within sight of them, on the alert. Falcon's Wing does the same, on the other side. Peter Follen, on two feet, remains near the back of the group. He takes the position of rear guard, with little else to do for the moment. Falcon's Wing works his way, in the shadows, towards the lights. One Feather presumably continues to track the magic. She does not go too fast for her packmate to keep up. Natasha contorts and blurs as she shifts into Lupus form. Calls-the-Lost picks his way more slowly than before, every so often glancing at One feather to see if she has found anything new. Turns-the-Lash follows the others, her black coat making her hard to see in the thicker shadows. As the pack draws nearer they see a small clearing in the woods. Equipment set up about, looking like weather gauging or tracking equipment maybe, except for a an odd wire pentagram made of metal wire that seems to be glowing red hot. There are humans all about, some adjusting equipment, but soldiers as well, eyes looking out into the forest, extremely wary. A rather extremely large-looking soldier barks some orders as the pack approaches, though apparently not in response to the Garou. Peter Follen drops behind cover. Calls-the-Lost pads softly up against a tree trunk, senses alert, and freezes. Turns-the-Lash moves behind cover and into the shadows, obviously less than surprised at the presence of the soldiers here. Peter Follen motions to Falcon's Wing. One Feather stops, then moves back to be near Peter. Her coat, like the Shadow Lord's, helps conceal her in the shadows. There is a man in, oddly enough, a fair business-like shirt, tie, and pants watching the techinicians with a hard eye and a frown. He looks to be in his mid-thrities or so, and healthy, though very pale skinned. Falcon's Wing, who had frozen at his first sight of soldier, looks at Peter. Peter Follen beckons him, and everyone else, closer. Falcon's Wing backs up in the same route he took for a bit, and then closer to Peter. What? Calls-the-Lost, low to the ground, slides backwards into cover, then skirts around to join the rest of the group. Peter Follen does a quick count of the soldiers then addresses Derrick. ~I simply wished to remind you that the last soldiers we fought were armed with silver.~ Falcon's Wing acknowledges this, and studies the situation. That person in the formalwear looks to be our guy. He shakes his ruff, and says, Well, come on, people. No time like the present. Calls-the-Lost wonders if someone should make noise to draw the soldiers away? Peter Follen says, ~What is the plan, alpha?~ Turns-the-Lash notes that the mage has difficulty controlling his anger. If you enrage him, he may be unable to perform subtle magics. One Feather does not think that one (indicating the businessman) is the mage. He does not feel like one. Falcon's Wing stares at Turns-the-Lash with some curiosity, but does not comment. Which one does, One Feather? Turns-the-Lash was, from her posture, referring to the man in the suit when she made her statement. Only one of the soldiers seem to have some sort of night vision equipment on, though it looks very odd, overly bulky and not of a type that looks even vaguely familiar to any of you. Calls-the-Lost decides that that one must go *first*, just in case. Peter Follen indicates that soldier to Winks. ~That one has the same equipment as the one who shot you after you disappeared, the last time. He might make a good first target.~ Calls-the-Lost starts looking at the cover in that direction. With silver bullets and fetish-spotting goggles, it is time to rely on good old-fashioned stealth. Suddenly, a point of inky blackness appears about ten feet from the pentagram, it starts expanding slowly, and the technicians start to work more frantically. The man in business closes smiles slightly. One Feather again has to take some time to consider. The one dressed differently that is not a mage is odd, but not like a mage. More like the touch of magic that followers ourselves. The area--the star shape--those are the strong parts. Peter Follen clears his throat softly. ~If we wish to attack, the time is now, Falcon's Wing-rhya.~ Falcon's Wing growls. ~Screw niceties. Attack.~ Calls-the-Lost runs forwards, crouching behind cover, trying to tread softly and heading for the soldier in goggles. One Feather freezes as she sees the inky blackness begin to form. Her scent stinks of fear, her tail slicked under her body. Falcon's Wing, taking his own words to heart, dives out of cover, toward the man in formalwear. Turns-the-Lash, still well behind cover and out of sight, studies the machinery intently. Peter Follen hefts his mace and charges just behind Falcon's Wing. He's not exactly silent, but he's certainly not making any battle cries or any other sound that would draw extra attention to himself. When the cover runs out, Calls-the-Lost accelerates hard, straight at his own chosen target, partly to divide attention between himself and Derrick. Gunfire is the retort to the charge of the Garou. It seems the soldiers were set up to catch and try to suppress just this sort of attack. Bullets cover the forest as the technicians dive for cover. The large soldier roars over the din. "Bravo squad, keep the lupes pinned down. Alpha Squad cover our backs and make sure we don't get hit from behind." He turns to the man in business clothes, who seems rather unphased by the gunfire, not even flinching, "Director, you'd better tell your friend we've got company and see if he can arrange for reinforcements." The 'Director' bristles a little, but then turns over towards one of the pieces of equipment, staring into the side of it and then seeming to disappear, like a Garou would through the gauntlet. Calls-the-Lost has learned to keep low, from the last occasion, to minimise the size of target he provides. Four legs are undoubtedly better that two! The gunfire seems to awaken the Uktena. She shakes herself, then shifts up through the forms into homid. Still she doesn't charge, but pulls her own distance weapon: her Dedicated bow. Stringing an arrow, she lets fly at one of the men not closed with the pack she's protecting. Turns-the-Lash contorts and blurs as she shifts into Glabro form. Falcon's Wing tears into one of the offending soldiers - or tries to. Peter Follen charges the same soldier as Falcon's Wing and swings his mace around, attempting decapitation. Calls-the-Lost lets the momentum from his charge carry him on into the soldier in the strange-looking goggles, trying to knock him over, teeth bared ready to tear at his throat once the Get can reach it. The Gaian's mace smashes the soldier in the shoulder, halting him in his attempt to twist out of the way, and leaving him nicely open for Falcon's Wing to rip open his stomach, coincidentally shredding some armor. Tess's first arrow slices through the floodlight-lit air to sink deep into the goggled soldier, moments before the Get slams into him bodily. The Uktena does not pause, putting a second arrow to the string. Natasha steps from behind her tree just far enough to throw a large rock up the hill towards the equipment. With a glabro's strength behind it, it smashes into a delicate-looking section of the device, scattering shards of glass and causing the expanding black area to begin to wobble erratically. Calls-the-Lost hits the soldier hard, letting his speed and bulk send the man thudding to the ground. The Get takes a moment to steady himself before his teeth seek the man's throat, giving the soldier time to draw a knife. The blade flashes silver, drawing blood from the Get's shoulder. Peter Follen turns, letting the Silver Fang finish off the wounded soldier. He picks a second target - another soldier - and repeats the process. Falcon's Wing contorts and blurs as he shifts into Glabro form. Derrick shifts, rage-born, and guts the soldier, grabbing his weapon after he accomplishes this. One of the soldiers, the one Winks has downed moves, with a speed no human possesses and does slash at the Get, leaving a nasty wound with the silver knife. Natasha taps Tess on the shoulder and redirects her attention. The soldiers seem to be getting a little desperate, firing a little more randomly. One of the techs looks up from where he hides, eyes scanning the group coldly before they rest on Derrick. Peter Follen closes with his second opponent, the mace swinging around just as the guy brings his gun up. The two connect and the rifle is knocked aside; gunfire sprays wildly, but no one is hit. Natasha throws something else, probably a knife. Her target is low on the slope of the hill and hard to see. Derrick just sort of stands there, struggling against... something ... in his mind. Tess fires another arrow, this time at the large man moving to flank the three on the hill. The arrow again sinks home, but the armor slows the impact greatly. The large soldier does grunt in pain as the shaft sinks home. Calls-the-Lost lets his weight carry him down onto the soldier, teeth locking on the man's throat, clenching. He keeps his jaw locked as he rolls sideways onto the ground, sucking breath in through blood-clogged nostrils, tearing through the windpipe and major artery. Then he lies on the ground, gasping for breath. The large, massive man closes on Calls-the-Lost, snarling with predatory rage as the Garou rips out his squadmate's throat. He pulls a large, studded metal club from out of a back-sheath and slams it across the Get's back to a dull, sick, cracking sound, almost with as much force a Crinos easily before the Get can fully get to his feet and attack. The Get slumps into the dirt. All of the soldiers have shifted to this side of the clearing, one spraying suppressing fire into the woods where the arrows come from, while the other focuses another spray towards the Garou, catching Derrick soundly with several rounds and knocking him to the ground. The one whose gun was knocked aside by Peter drops the weapon in favor of a small cyclinder, barely large enough to be a club, an odd choice of weapon. He swings the weapon at the Gaian and only barely misses him. Peter Follen reaches automatically to his belt and draws his Bowie knife. The Philodox uses the two weapons in combination, parrying the club with his mace while attacking with the knife. Peter Follen and the soldier dance around each other, the Garou parrying the baton with his mace. His arm shakes the two weapons contact and he lunges, driving the blade into the human's body. A moment later the Gaian spins, bringing the mace around for a (hopefully) killing blow. With two of the Garou down, one of the soldiers concentrates his fire on the woods, trying to keep the bowman pinned down while the other trains his weapon on Peter, trying to line up a single killing shot without hitting his squadmate while the huge, hulking Seargant brings his foot down on th Get's windpipe. The soldier in hand to hand with Peter tries his best to stave the Garou off, but does fall from a blow to the head, shoulder and neck making a cracking sound. The last soldier that was lining up his shot has nothing to stop him now, though, and opens up on the Gaian, riddling him with bullets. Tess pops out of cover enough to release an arrow that strikes the soldier who just emptied most of his clip into Peter. The man half drops the weapon, clawing at the arrow. Peter Follen is blown wide open by the gunfire and drops to the ground bleeding from a dozen wounds. Derrick lies where he is, bleeding pleasantly. Calls-the-Lost isn't even breathing. The soldier that put Peter down scrambles to replace his empty clip after clawing futilely at the arrow buryied in his side. He fumbles with it as the other continues to lay down fire at Tess, though with shorter and shorter bursts and edging his way over to one of his fallen comrades. The huge seargant finishes snapping the Get's neck with a sick sound gurgling sound. Tess takes advantage of the man's clawing-at-arrow and reloading time to shoot the man again, taking time to aim properly this time. While the third of the remaining soldiers manages to get the clip in, it does him little good as another arrow sinks into his neck. He slumps to the ground, now grabbing at something on or near his chest. A burst of gunfire comes from the darkness, catching the huge Seargant about the head and shoulders, and he lets out a roar of pain and half drops-half ducks behind a tree, though certainly not out of the fight. He seems to have totally shrugged off the effects of the arrow he took earlier. The last soldier continues his firing at Tess, hitting her as she pops out, and then dropping his gun as it empties. As he is grabbing one of the fallen men's guns he lunges for cover as well, hearing the burst of gunfire from the treeline. Tess drops behind cover again as she nocks another arrow, drawing a bead on the remaining soldier. Derrick, once again active, manages to spray a round of gunfire in the general direction of where the last soldier dodged for cover. He probably doesn't do much with it except keep the guy running for cover, but it's a very satisfying spray nonetheless. Natasha fires again as the soldiers dive for cover, letting lose a full-auto burst into the assemblage of machinery where the techs are hiding. Her target seems to be the device itself, rather than the technicians. After a brief rustle of sound when the burst ends, her position is silent. Though the young Fang does keep the two soldiers remaining pinned down, though one does pop up again to release another spray towards the woods where the unknown burst of gunfire came from. The other man, the sergeant, stays behind cover, though the Garou can see him shift somewhat, and then a small, round metal object gets lobbed through the air in the direction of Peter and Derrick. The black disc of inky blackness is considerably larger then when this encounter started, though wobbling and growing irregularly. Near the black disc a black shape appears and materializes, a large feline-canine crossbreed made of pure shadow. Tess' arrow thuds into the piece of equipment the one soldier is using for cover, her first miss of the evening. Tess repeats the procedure. She has no idea what the small round object that landed near her packmate is. The machinery sparks and fizzles, and pops. The disc seems to flare more erratic, and then suddenly stabilizes more, apparently for no reason, though it is still not stable. This arrow of Tess's thuds solidly into the last of the two soldiers' shoulder and he winces in pain and ducks back down behind the cover of the equipment. Derrick grabs the nearest body and attempts to heave it onto the grenade before it explodes. Tess drops her bow once the last soldier has been hit. She isn't sure if he's out of commission or not, but that's her packmate out there. Shifting into her birthform, the Uktena charges forward, intent on pulling Peter from the fight. The Fang half-shovels half-tosses the near dead body of one of the soldiers towards the grenade. The weapon goes off just as the body is landing on it, taking and diffusing a good deal of the shrapnel, but some slips out the sides, cutting into the Fang's legs and sending him to the ground again while mauling the body of the Gaian some more. The wounded but not dead soldier stays behind cover and lobs a grenade, this one more directed at Tess as she tries to cover the ground between herself and her pack-mate. The seargant pops up, shotgun aimed for Tess. Strangely, it seems some of wound on his face is healing quickly, almost as quickly as a Garou would. He fires one round, chambering another round when he gets hit upside the head with another burst of fire from the woods and slumps down behind the machine he was hiding behind. The cat-thing stalks forward, moving very quickly and nimbly towards the darkness and the Shadow Lord. Tess is knocked down by the shotgunblast and hits the dirt hard. Natasha shifts into Crinos form. In the woods, Turns-the-Lash faces down the cat spirit. It leaps at her, jaws wide and claws raised to slash, and she thrusts her clenched left fist INTO its mouth, almost punching at the back of its throat. She turns the rest of her body away, trying to use her extended arm to keep the cat from coming in range to use its claws. The shadow spirit reels and scrabbles at the Shadow Lord as she shoves her hand down its throat. She tries to keep the spirit as far from her as she can, but it claws her arm and shoulder up nicely, laying it open. Turns-the-Lash lashes forward with her other hand, obviously drawing on Rage, moving to tear out the spirit's exposed throat with her claws. The last soldier, seeing all the Garou down, pops his head out of cover, and then half stands, SMG in hand. The arm with the arrow in it is held close to his side, and he winces in pain as he moves out from cover to survey the scene. The cat spirit lets out a wail as the Lord rips at its throat, its form bleeding off into the air but the creature still up and kicking. Turns-the-Lash grits her teeth against the pain, and strikes at the spirit again, focussing on the throat from force of training even though she has no idea if the location of a blow matters to a spirit. She turns as she tears at it, trying to place the body of the spirit between herself and the clearing. As the soldier starts to wander over towards the downed Garou the shadows in the clearing start to lengthen dramatically and the disc simply disappears suddenly. The soldier pulls another grenade off his shoulder rig as he approaches, still wincing in pain. Tess leaps to her feet suddenly, the Ahroun charging forward with all the Rage of her moon. She lopes toward the soldier on all fours, ready to tear him in half. The cat spirit continues to try and maul the Shadow Lord, tearing into her as she does the same to it. It's fighting lessens and lessens though, and then dissiapates after a few moments with a wail. The soldier's eyes widen at the sight of the charging Garou with an 'oh shit' expression. He manages to lob the grenade and even get his hand on the grip of the SMG before he is slammed into by the Ahroun and ripped to shreds, blood and bits flying everywhere. If not for the new moon, the Ahroun would surely have frenzied. As it is, she doesn't stop until there's little identifiable left of the man. Only then does she stop to look around. The the grenade goes off. The Uktena Ahroun was mostly out of range of the blast, only taking small bits of sharpel which the hardy form she is in soaks easily. The other Garou on the ground nearby aren't quite as fortunate. The shadows continue to lengthen, starting to pool. Natasha, unable to see what's going on inside the clearing, moves to recover the guns she discarded in case any of the soldiers are still active. Finding no other soldiers standing, Tess drops next to her packmate, checking to see if he still lives. Natasha moves to the edge of the clearing at this point, taking stock of the situation. She is moving, but a substantial portion of the left side of her body has been mauled. Calls-the-Lost shifts into Homid form. Natasha moves out of the woods to the body of one of the downed soldiers, near the tree line. She pulls two grenades off of his harness, throwing one into the machinery and the other towards the spot where the sergeant went down - and can still be heard thrashing about. Natasha ducks down until the blasts go off. Tess, upon finding that her packmate still lives, goes to check on the other two downed Garou. The machinery and equipment is thrown about in a wild spray by the grenade. The red hot pentagram starts fading quickly, losing the red glow and any traces of the black disc vanish. The shadows are still getting longer though, and suddenly, the spotlights all go out, as if from a short or blown fuse. Natasha announces, ~We leave now. Get any who are still alive and return with to the vehicle.~ She shifts back to Crinos, lifting the two nearest Gaians and heading in the direction of the van and a swift trot. All the soldiers appear to be dead or blown to bits, as is much of the equipment. The techs are gone or hiding. The spotlights just went out, and the shadows were and are growing longer and pooling almost seeming to come alive. No thing is in plain sight, but the Garou in the more perceptive forms can almost sense presences start to flicker into existance in the shadows. One Feather turns back from checking on the other Garou. Her eyes widen as Natasha moves to get Peter, who is barely clinging to life. Despite herself, she shows her teeth in an open snarl. ~Don't! He'll die.~ The metis continues toward Peter, her whole body tense. Many of the gunshot holes in her skin are visibly closing. Natasha sees that Calls-the-Lost is dead, and lifts Derrick, leaving the Gaian to his packmate. She turns and moves towards the vehicle. There is more than a 'feeling' of a presence now as the sound of something moving out in the shadows of the woods about can be heard. The wind picks up slightly, coming from the direction of the Hanford Site, carrying a dark smell with it. One Feather grimly sticks to where she is, a ready crouch over Peter's body. She waits that few extra seconds her body needs to heal before the healing can flow best. Her eyes move toward the source of the smell and sounds. She spares not a glance for the dead Get. More of the shadow spirits, the feline beasts made of pure darkness, can be seen starting to circle the pair. The Uktena feels her body heal as much as it can for the short term. One Feather doesn't hesitate. With a prayer to Bear on her lips, she lowers her hands to Peter's body. Peter Follen does not regain consciousness, even though many of his wounds heal. One Feather curses then, the Yakima words interspersed among the longer Garou phrases. Her face twists in frustration, but still she doesn't leave her packmate. She checks him over, quickly. The shadow hounds start closing the circle. A deep voice rumbles from the shadows, "Now, what do we have here?" One Feather doesn't waste her breath in an answer. Grabbing her packmate's mace in her left hand, she moves to scoop him in her arms. Once she has him, she turns to try to break through the narrowing hole in the circle of spirit hounds. The spirits snarl happily with their prey giving them good sport. They start to close on the two, but as the Uktena brings the mace down on one of the spirits and it dissipates; they all pull back a little, looking far more wary, though they continue to dodge in, one or two connecting with light hits that do no real damage. One Feather, somewhat slowed and hampered by her packmate over her shoulder, still fights the spirits as long as there is a chance of escape. Though unpracticed with the mace in particular, she wields it as she would a club, striking at those that dare to approach. The hounds close on the two, and though the Uktena is able to disrupt two more of the banes, the one manages to get a firm grip on her arm and knock the mace free as it starts to drag her to the ground. The others start to harry and bite, claw and rip at her legs, trying to drag her down. A figure appears in the darkness, made of shadow, and watches quietly, a bemused smile on his face. One Feather twists, her skin rippling sickeningly. The hound slides off her arm like water as the gift frees her; unfortunately, the same motion sends Peter falling to the ground. Accepting both their deaths, the ahroun does not stop to guard him. Instead, she blurs toward the mage with rage filling her bloodshot eyes. Two of the hounds go for the downed Child of Gaia eagerly; the other two give chase to the rage-blurred ahroun. Before they reach her, her claws are already wet with his blood. He still stands, though, taking a step back from the onslaught. His eyes narrow, and Tess stumbles from an unseen attack. That's all the last two hounds need. She goes down under their teeth, a short burbling howl carrying the news of Omega's death as far as her dying breath can reach. The shadow-mage snarls, and growls in pain, clutching at his side. The shadows seem to flicker and waver about him as he fades back into them and then shortly vanish with him, quickly. The hounds follow their master.