THE PACK Message Boards

"Neither do I. It tends to happen with the human race, they get themselves into messes they can't get out of. It's just human nature and unfortunately, it applies to us as well." He leaned against the wall of the cave, sighing. The warmth of the fire he had created was pleasant and cast a nice glow on the walls. Plus the sound of the rain outside falling heavily now, was calming.

"Humans. Let's hope my contact isn't busy. If so, it could be quite a wait before any help would be gained, but the wait would be worth it. He's an exceptionally skilled person."

"What skills does he have?"

"He's an adept with many things, but he is one of the best sorcerors around. His speed is amazing, and really goes well with him for when he uses swords. He's very busy, so we may end up just receiving one of his usefullnesses: His contacts. He could get numerous people gathered to fight these, and not inexperienced people either. Veterans."

Another OOC Post: Are we waiting on another player to join us as Thunderclaw's contact or is this an NPC that is either in development or waiting for the appropriate time for his creator to introduce him?

I'm waiting for the right time to introduce him, that's all. It's another one of my main characters, but isn't really one who uses his werewolf form. It's Surge , who, as you should know cyberwatt, appears in the collector thread as well.

"Thats better than nothing." Yami sat back sighing.

"Right now, the question is, is luck on our side? We'll need as much as we can get, even if we do get help.

"Well going by the way that our luck has been so far... s***. But we have to keep up hope."

Thunderclaw nodded. "so, who will keep guard first?"

"I will. My leg is still hurting me so I won't get much sleep right now."

"Very well. Wake me when you are ready for me to go on guard."

The sun had long since set when Yami heard the whispers. Low hushed sibilances that seemed at the edge of a dream, they brushed the borders of his consciousness like solitary flakes of snow in a remote meadow. They seemed to drift into almost musical tenor then into monotone hisses, now gentler, now harsher.

It was some time before he caught the words, slight and hushed, that finally told him the whispers were not merely in his head.

"They are not of our cohort. They are not even of our kind. Why do we waste our time with those who care nothing for the cause?" A harsh, somewhat authoritative voice.

Then a calm, commanding tone. "Erhard's scent is on them. Is that not enough?"

Then a low, horrid laugh. "We could just kill them. Killkill. Yesyes?"

"Enough!" the commanding voice hissed. "Remember your place, poltergeist! Remember that you are here merely at our sufferance. There will be no talk of killing this night."

Some grumbling Yami could not make out. Then the calm voice again. "We must speak to them. Erhard is alive, I know it. If need be, I will go alone."

Yami growled getting defensive. "You know Erhard? Who are you? Show yourself!"

The voices fell silent for a moment. Then the commanding voice returned, still in a whisper. "Come, white one. We mean you no harm."

When Yami emerged at last into the light of the cloudless moon-lit sky, it was to see a strange spectacle. Standing or crouching on the slopes of the mountain were about a dozen beings, all of whom, by their scent, were werewolves. But their individuality was plainly evident by their shapes.

Two were in human form: a short, rather overweight and plain-looking woman, hair tied in a topknot, and a nervous thin man with glowing blue eyes whose hands and face seemed to twitch with Saint Vitus' dance.

A few were standing in upright "hybrid" form. Two massive lycanthropes standing over eight feet tall flanked the twitching man, tails swishing, a look of fierce guardedness on their faces. Another, a short and lithe werewolf, was actually hanging from a nearby treebranch like a monkey, prehensile feet hugging the trunk.

Others were in full wolf form of varying sizes, some resting, others patrolling the perimeter and snuffling the ground.

But all their eyes were on Yami. They seemed to regard him with a sort of cool detachment as if he was something to be analyzed. Their scent spoke of urgency and determination.

The short woman spoke first. "Welcome. You are among friends here, though you may not know it."

Thunderclaw had been startled when he had heard voices, and thought he had imagined them, but now, it was much clearer that there really were voices, Unsure whether or not they were hostile, he stayed low, observing first.

Yami stepped closer wary of them. His experience of betrayal had given him great knowledge but they had mentioned Erhard, so they couldn't be bad, right?

"Who are you?"

The woman held up a hand in a placating gesture, and Yami caught the yellow gleam in her otherwise-human eyes. "You know in your heart who we are, friend. We are enemies of the creatures you have fled from. But as to names..."

She gestured to her companions, most of whom continued to fixate their gaze on Yami. "We are of Cohort Westwind, Sabbatis den. I am Anticlaire, alpha of this pack. May I introduce my beta, Juliard?"

The short, lithe werewolf dropped from the tree with a cat-like grace and glided forward. Her face seemed to size Yami up like a side of beef. "Hope you're good in a fight, paleface. There's a war coming, so you better be prepared to use those claws."

A warning growl issued from Anticlaire's throat and Juliard backed away, her eyes averted from her alpha. "My apologies," Anticlaire said. "She is Vex. She cannot help but brag.

"My two immediate subordinates, Altair and Hopkins." She gestured to the massive lycanthropes flanking the blue eyed man. Then she fixed her gaze on the twitching individual himself. "And he is Nietzsche." Her eyes narrowed as the blue-eyed man quivered. "Say hello, Nietzsche."

The man twitched even more noticeably while his minders flexed their corded muscles as if to spring upon him. "Hellhello, Deaddead," he said, his speech interspersed with many little giggling laughs. "We huntkill? ... Meyou... eateat. Eat!"

"Silence!" Anticlaire's roar made Nietzsche shrink back while Altair and Hopkins bared their teeth as if ready to tear the man's throat out.

Then turning at last to Yami again, Anticlair took a deep breath before speaking. "We are Benandanti, young wolfkin. You carry the scent my... our comrade. We have been tracking you for some time and wish to hear tales from you and your friend. May we know your names as well?"

Yami eyed the subordinates warily. He too was an alpha at one point, he'd just lost his pack so he felt like he could connect with this alpha and come to an agreement. "I'm Yami. I'm considered the "Lost Wolf" around the world. People have seen a large white wolf come and go and that would be me. I'm trying to find my pack which I was torn from so long ago. However... I ran into Erhard and that mission was put on hold. I will allow my comrade to introduce himself whom I know is listening to this conversation. Thunderclaw! Come out."

Thunderclaw emerged from the cave. "I noticed the visitors. Benandanti, they say? I think we can trust them."

"I am honored by your faith in us," Anticlaire said, nodding to Yami and Thunderclaw in turn while placing one fist over her chest in some sort of salute. "You honor Erhard as well, as he has obviously been the first of our kind you have encountered. We will return your trust with faithfulness or die in the attempt."

At this, each of the Benandanti uttered a long, keening, antiphonal howl, a curious harmonizing that seemed to speak of unknowable and forbidden things. There seemed to be words in the howl, though of a sort neither Thunderclaw nor Yami could translate.

When the last of the echoes of the cry had rolled away into the valley beneath, the Witch-Hunter Werewolves stared at their new friends with shining eyes.

"And now," Anticlair said, "we crave your words. Tell us your full tale, and see that you recall all that you can of Erhard our brother."

Yami sat down on a nearby rock. "Well when I appeared in town Erhard had just come out of a building and had recognized me as what I am. He mentioned the strange things happening in the town and was leading me to show me. We were attacked by-forgive me I never really remembered the names-something and we won, though he was injured slightly. I helped him with that and we started heading back to a safe haven. This is where we ran into Thunderclaw. He told us the place we were going to was no longer safe. We headed back into town though another round of the beasts were trying to overtake us. Erhard told us to leave and find help while he held them off. My damned leg of course started actingup and we nearly didn't make it. But we just got here a few hours ago, and we have no idea if Erhard is alive. I sense that he is but the connection is faint."

"Also," Thunderclaw added, "We've been attempting to reach one of my contacts. He'll be useful in a fight, and has resources that would be equally useful even if he doesn't."

During Yami's recounting of recent events, the two werewolves saw Anticlaire's face shift through a series of emotions, from stony examination to surprise, and then to concern that seemed almost frantic in its intensity. “You sense him? How? Forgive me, but we Benandanti are not blessed with the higher senses.”

At the same time, Juliard strikes up a conversation with Thunderclaw. “A contact, huh? Maybe we can help find him; there’s very little in this area that gets past us. We’re short on time, so we’ll need to find him quickly if he’s to come with us. Just where did you and Erhard meet anyway? Yami mentioned a town.”

"I sense him as that I am psychic. If you haven't noticed I'm blind. I see through tremors in the earth and through others eyes."