2025-02-10 Grand Moot
| 2025-02-10 Grand Moot | |
|---|---|
| Date of Scene: | 10 February 2025 |
| Location: | The Forest Caern |
| Synopsis: | A Shifter Moot, opened by Mourning for Moon Moon's sacrifice. Further discussions: The state of the Forest, Foundation of the Khanate (2/10/1995) |
| Cast of Characters: | Aidan, Archimedes, Chance, Dusk, Ethan, Father Abe, Justin, Lunafreya, Maddy Namkhai, Rue, Ryoko, Tori |
================Ryoko=================
Ryoko slipped into the crowd wearing her normal leathers and Sarashi, a small bag hanging from her hip.
================Justin================
Justin is here, he's been around the caern a lot lately; he's currently laying next to the tree almost in fetal position. He seems to be keeping to himself for the moment.
==============Lunafreya===============
The Grand Moot began as Lunafreya, towering in her spiritual presence, stepped into the heart of Weirwood Hall. Her wild essence seemed to intertwine with the very roots of the sacred Weirwood tree that loomed above, its ancient branches forming a protective canopy over all gathered below. The Hall was alive with the murmur of voices, but all fell silent as the Mistress of the Rites, Speaks-to-Lotus, raised her staff high. The obsidian elders’ stone glistened in the flickering light of ceremonial torches, drawing all eyes to the venerable leaders of the Sept, who sat like unmoving sentinels of wisdom and power.
At the center of this commanding presence was Anaya Anallay, the regal Uktena Philodox elder, holding court with an almost magnetic stillness. Her piercing amber eyes swept across the gathering, commanding respect with every subtle movement. Clad in traditional beadwork and adorned with sacred feathers, she radiated the unyielding judgment of Gaia’s law. Beside her sat Divina Sinclair, the Wendigo Ahroun elder, her quiet strength like the tension of a coiled spring. Her presence was a living reminder of the Wendigo’s stoic fierceness, her wolfish eyes flickering in the torchlight. She rested her hand lightly on the hilt of her ceremonial axe, a symbol of her readiness to defend the gathering at any moment.
Wren Nightshade, the Shadow Lord Theurge, leaned on her intricately carved staff, a timeless artifact etched with runes of insight and power. Her distant gaze, sharp and unrelenting, seemed to pierce through layers of reality, as if she listened to the whispers of spirits even now. Nearby, Grey Talon observed in his lupine form, his wolfish frame still as stone save for the occasional twitch of his ears, his primal focus attuned to the gathering. Each elder carried the weight of their tribe’s legacy, their presence a grounding force for the Moot as the gathered crowd shifted their collective attention, united under the sacred canopy of the Weirwood tree. Lunafreya stepped forward, her presence radiating both feral grace and commanding authority. The hall fell utterly silent, the only sound the faint rustling of the weirwood’s ancient leaves, as if even the tree itself bent to listen. Her voice rang out, firm and resonant, echoing through the sacred space.
“Tonight, beneath the watchful gaze of Gaia and the spirits of this sacred place, we stand at a turning point. For too long, the forces of the Weaver have sought to choke the world with their webs, and the Wyrm’s servants have spread their corruption unchecked. But no longer. Tonight, we declare a shift; a tide that cannot be stemmed, a fire that will burn away the rot and restore the balance Gaia demands!” She paused, her tone softening, sorrow threading through her voice as she bowed her head. “But as we stand on the cusp of this new era, we must acknowledge the sacrifice that brought us here. Meridian, our sister, our guardian, gave her life to save this forest. We will honor her spirit, as if she lives on in every leaf that unfurls, every blade of grass that pushes through the soil. The weirwood itself whispers her name, a reminder of the price she paid so that this sacred ground might endure.”
Her amber eyes lifted to meet the crowd, grief and determination shining within them. “The forest recovers, slowly but surely, because of her. And it is in her honor that we vow to carry on her fight. The war against Houston Timber, against the Weaver’s claws that would rip Gaia’s lifeblood from the earth, will be waged with Meridian’s memory as our banner. Every strike we make, every victory we claim, will be a tribute to her courage and sacrifice.” Her voice rose once more, filled with unyielding resolve. “Among us are new faces, brave souls who have joined our fight, sworn their claws and hearts to this war. Together, we will tear through the Weaver’s children and crush the Wyrm’s servants. Tonight, we stand united, not just as warriors but as kin, as guardians of Gaia’s will. Let the Weaver tremble. Let the Wyrm cower. For we are the claws of Gaia, and we will not falter!”
Her words hung in the air, heavy with grief and promise, as the crowd erupted in a chorus of howls, their voices rising to the sacred canopy of the weirwood, carrying their vow into the night. As Lunafreya’s voice echoed through the sacred Weirwood Hall, the air itself seemed to shift and thrum with an otherworldly energy. A chill breeze swept through the gathering, carrying the faint sound of whispers, the language of the spirits, like the rustling of leaves and distant wolf howls. Suddenly, the faint glow of moonlight streaming through the branches intensified, casting silvery beams that illuminated the center of the Sept. The first spirit appeared as a faint shimmer, then another, until the hall was alight with a flood of ethereal beings. Wolf spirits, with glowing eyes and ghostly fur, prowled the edges of the gathering, their forms both beautiful and fearsome. Serpents of mist coiled around the elders’ stone, their forms twisting and undulating like living smoke. The flickering silhouettes of ancient warriors, clad in spectral armor, knelt in solemn reverence before the weirwood tree, their eyes glowing with spectral fire.
Overhead, great wings of light unfurled as bird spirits descended, their cries resonating like a sacred hymn. Branch spirits of the weirwood stretched their translucent limbs, intertwining with the roots of the earth and extending their protective energy over the Sept. A great stag spirit, antlers glimmering with star-like motes of light, stepped forward from the tree itself, its hooves leaving shimmering impressions in the soil. The crowd of Kinfolk, children and adults alike, stirred in awe, Kinfolk and Garou alike feeling the weight of the spirits’ presence. Some Garou bowed their heads in reverence, while others raised their voices in howls, their cries mingling with the spirits’ song. It was as if Gaia herself had sent her emissaries to bear witness to this sacred gathering. Lunafreya, standing amidst the radiant flood, spread her arms wide, her voice ringing out like a clarion call. “Spirits of Gaia, guardians of the land, warriors of the past and present, we welcome you! Witness this night, this vow, this unity forged in your honor! Stand with us, guide us, and fight alongside us as we bring Gaia’s will to the world!”
The spirits surged, their energy mingling with the roaring approval of the Sept. The hall thrummed with their presence, a sacred bond formed anew, sealing the Moot in the eyes of Gaia and her eternal guardians who had come in a show of solidarity for their fallen cousin.
=========Weeps-with-Laughter==========
A faint rustle echoes through the vast Weirwood Hall as a large coyote steps into the chamber, his form blending with the earthy hues of the cavern. The dusky brown and smoky gray fur of Weeps-with-Laughter's sendeh shape ripples faintly as he moves with a quiet confidence, amber eyes gleaming with mischief and reverence for the sacred gathering. He pauses momentarily, taking in the carvings, the light of the spirits, and the resonating howls before padding forward with a fluid, unhurried gait.
Walks-on-Leaves moves beside him in her wolf form until they both find a place to settle down and sit. Dropping gracefully onto his haunches beside her, he nudges her shoulder with his muzzle, his sharp, intelligent eyes scanning the scene. There's a moment of quiet camaraderie between them, his body language relaxed yet attuned to the solemnity of the gathering.
Chance lifts his head slightly, his gaze following the shimmering spirits as they move through the Hall. His ears flick forward, catching every sound, the howls, the whispers, the faint rustle of the great Weirwood. For now, he lingers, head bowed slightly while watching as Lunafreya starts the moot. When the spirits surge, that roar going up he adds his own powerful and sad howl. It's a mix of sadness at the sacrifice of Moon Moon but also a roar to join in with the growing chorus.
================Lenore================
Lenore is currently seated in her human form on one of the seats wearing her usual gothic garb, this time consisting of a black sweater dress with her heeled combat boots. She quietly listens.
================Aidan=================
Aidan, for his part is still as Lunafreya begins. The mention of the lost Moon Spirit causes lips to part, and a slight exhale, his breath soft. Sorrow, and regret in things he thought he would have time for. Still, there is hope. His eyes follow the spirits as they begin to gather and he shifts his weight a moment and lifts his head up with the typical Fianna pride and bravado, all the more you may expect from the ahroun.
=================Dusk=================
Dusk sits among the crowd, his gothic-styled leather and bits of steel perhaps a little out of place. He sits very still, watching the event placidly. His attention flits from spectacle to reactions and back as the event progresses.
===========Walks-on-Leaves============
A pale coloured wolf pads alongside Chance before they settle, Walks-on-Leaves returning that nudge from Chance. She listens to the empassioned speech and her own howl joining the chorus of others, heavy with the grief and sadness of the little spirit's passing. She watches the flood of spirits coming to join them, flooding into the hall.
================Justin================
Justin moves closer to the group once the moot starts proper, his feet shuffling slowly as he goes. Finding a seat near the rest, he looks around, watching the moot as it unfolds.
=================Rue==================
There were always losses. SO many losses, they grieved constantly, and never enough. And so it was easy for Rue to think that today would be.... a bittersweet memorial, but that had been a lie she told herself. It wasn't bittersweet, she was angry, and their Alpha was giving a call to arms. She was righteously angry. So she HOWLED. She howled like the wind scrapping across cold glass at the top of the sky scrapper. She howled like a betrayed friend. She howled like grieving mother.
THEIR grieving mother as her voice raised with the others, like Gaia's herself pained by yet another loss in this war.
=================Rue==================
...and her grief is answered. In it's way. A heartbeat thrums briefly through the floor to her feet. To all of their feet, faint, and gone, as if birthed from them, moon flowers begin, to sprout up around her feet, tiny blue things with a faint glow, as if to answer the Gardner's grief.
================Ryoko=================
As the speakign staff made its way throguh the croud, and howls as well as word sabout the lost Moon Moon were exchanged, Ryoko finally got to grab it, answering the grief with a sobbing yell, before she raised the speaking staff for a short moment to ask for quiet just a bit as she went forward.
"For the memory of a small moon sphere, I bring what I its second to last Adventure had wrought from the pattern spider's lair and the bony graves." Ryoko said as she stepped up, pulling free the small bag from her belt and raising it up, the sound of light metal clinging and sounding. She moved through the group to one of the many nooks in the walls as she spoke, carefully sorting out a little spot. "Just a trinket it is, but a trinket the bravest Moon Moon I ever know did fight for. Justin of the Glass walkers and Father Abe were with our lost friend and me, when we delved into the tunnels of bone. The guardians we faced fist were what others did face before. Tentacles leashing at us and trying to burn, but they did not harm us.
Inhaling a mometnt, she made a wider gesture to the freed up nook, the mundane clutter that had gathered there removed and leaving a spot free. "Let us remember the second to last fight of the valiant spirit here. Because as we dove deeper into the tunnels, into the lair of pattern spiders, her light was guiding us in the absolute dark. We found the bones of ages past, and in them, a nest of spiders. Our Glass Walker friend did give a small thing to the nest of spiders, and recieved a small trinket in return, where a pair of lugnuts from my pocket brought them to give back this. But Father Abe, fighter for the wyld that he is, had a third thing to give to these tiny spirits of the weaver in their nest of stasis."
"The gift of fire and change he brought upon them, lighting the room ablaze. Where his weapon wrought, no pattern spider stood, where my wolven companions jaws crushed, nothing remained, and in the light of our good friend who we shall remember in this place here, my sword held harvest. Even the valient orb of our Lady in Silver's light did crush one of them. No harm these smallest spirits did to either, no wound was suffered, but the flames of liberation did break free a thankful spirit that had been shackled in a Fetish long ago. With thanks it returned to its tasks it had abandonned long ago to empower an item as we left this place, bringing forth some things."
As she raised the little bag again, she opened it this time, plucking from it, one after another, 5 1880s morgan silver dollars, carefully arranging them in the nook to form a circle. "By the silver light reflected by these coins we shall remember the gentle glow of our friend lost. By their two sides they shall show us time and time again that we are of dual nature, flesh and spirit. By their rounded shape we shall be reminded of the gentle dimples and craters marking the surface of their form. By their number of five, they shall remind us of the phases of the moon this valiant lune represented. By their burning sting we shall never forget the sacrifice of their very being."
Stepping back from the small nook she just turned into just another memory altar, Ryoko bowed with a shed tear. "I might not have seen the last sacrifice but I am honored to have witnessed the last adventure before, so I shall honor the tale of Moon Moon at this place, as others shall too!"
================Ethan=================
On the other hand, Ethan has been a busy Glass Walker, dealing in scouting and other city matters. Still, tonight, he is here, his formal black business suit (he had it pressed and retailored, and it shows) marking he's taking this Moot seriously. He stands off to one side with the officers, wearing his homid form as he stands at parade rest.
Still, he does shift into his wolf form (a greyish white looking wolf with keen eyes) to do his howl to remember Meridian.
=================Dusk=================
Dusk fixes his attention to Ryoko when her tale is told. He pales a little at the burning of a spider nest, swallowing heavily and glancing back towards the exit. He stands and slowly, slowly moves in that direction.
=============Shadowheart==============
Lunafreya straightens, her form shifting slightly as if the air around her grows heavier, her presence commanding the attention of all gathered. Her voice, rich and resonant, cuts through the space like a knife, but there is no anger; only purpose. "Hold a moment, Dusk." She turns her eyes toward him, then to Ryoko, her expression grave but measured. "Let it be clear to all; though we revile the Weaver's human children for their desecration of the forest and their persecution of the Mother, I do not condone an attack on Pattern Spiders. They are neither our friends nor our enemies. They serve their purpose, as all spirits do. To harm them unnecessarily only invites further imbalance in the delicate ecosystem of the cosmos."
Her gaze sweeps across the gathering, her words deliberate. "Let us take this as a lesson: to act with wisdom in the Mother's name. When dealing with the Weaver's constructs, tread carefully. Spiders, though bound to her web, are best left undisturbed unless they threaten the Mother's sanctity directly."
She takes a deep breath, her tone softening slightly as she shifts the focus. "Now, we move forward. There are new faces among us, and every voice carries weight in this circle. Step forward, those who would contribute. Share your name, your purpose, and what brought you to this place. The Mother calls us all for a reason."
Her eyes rest expectantly on the group, her presence steady yet inviting, signaling her readiness to hear and guide.
=================Dusk=================
Dusk holds when addressed directly. He flashes a sheepish smile, even as his eyes dart longingly at the exit. He takes a breath and squares his shoulders. He turns his attention fully towards Lunafreya and listens. He tilts his head a little, listening, and finally nods. Another breath and he relaxes. He starts forward at Lunafreya's request, willing to go first. "I am Dusk Blackwood," he declares, his voice carrying well. "My family has long held relationships with the Septs since the Civil War. My purpose is to honor those promises of protection and assistance that have long went untended. That is my purpose and what brought me here." He strides to a place where he can be seen, without quite joining Lunafreya. "I also have some... connection with Juniper Cross community. I'm given to believe that might be... relevant."
================Ethan=================
As the story is listened to, Ethan's eyes stay on Ryoko. He is silent and still until he hears about the burning of the Spiders... then, he nods, his eyes closing as he hears about the fetish and the spirit, before he reopens them again as Lunafreya speaks. his hands, once behind his back, has his right hand come up into a military style salute to her; a show of respect and acknowledgment from the military wolf, before he brings his hand back behind his back again.
==============Archimedes==============
At some point, in the middle of Dusk's introduction, a fleshy and furry thing falls out of Rue's hair!! It hits the ground with a soft thud and almost imediately starts to try standing up again. It's a plain brown rat, save for the black marking on it's back. Eyes squinting and a bit dazed for a moment, it walks in a circle trying to get it's bearings with a bit of a stumble as if perhaps the rat had been either sleeping...or drunk.
Squeak squeak squeak. Which roughly translates in rat to, << I'm awake! What did I miss? >> Archimedes pauses and sniffs the air a moment, looking around to see all of the people gathered. Suddenly he scurries back up Rue to perch on her shoulder where he can get a better place to stare at all of them, especially if somebody is telling about his amazing adventures.
=================Rue==================
Rue's eyes lift as Dusk moves to speak, shifting away from the wall, with a slink to her steps as she considers the man with the Juniper Cross ties, her eyes flicking to Lunafreya and Ryoko briefly before making an amused sound, as if seeing someone's touch on this. Nodding her head slightly.
This does of course help dislodge the sleeping rat, who she murmurs too. "We mourned MoonMoon's passing, she who so honorably give her life for the forest, and now we talk of fighting back and meeting new people, then maybe more fighting back." She offers by way of catch up, in Ratkin of all things, to the rat on her shoulder.
================Aidan=================
Aidan tilts his head to look to Dusk as he givesthe introduction. A nod of welcome and a
================Justin================
Justin offers a smile, that doesn't reach his eyes; and a nod of welcome to Dusk.
================Aidan=================
Aidan tilts his head to look to Dusk as he givesthe introduction. A nod of welcome and then he glances to the next speaker. For the moment the ahroun remains steady.
================Ryoko=================
Having given up the talking stick, Ryoko returned to mingle with the crowd, nodding some at the light reprimand from Lunafreya for the Rat torching the pattern spider den.
================Maddy=================
Maddy arives out of the shadows as she sneaks in the back, tottaly not late, nope, not her! She walks over to stand near Chance as she peers at the group brimming with curiosity.
==============Archimedes==============
<< Did she really just tell these woofers the Weaver isn't our enemy? >> the rat squeaks back at Rue as he catches up on what has happened so far. << I thought she was some wise leader or something. I don't think she even has a clue. >> Archimedes chitters at the Kami in great disappointment. His nose wriggles and whiskers twitch, staring now at Lunefreya with narrowed little black eyes. He seems pretty unhappy about something, that much is clear for anybody with a bit of empathy, or maybe Animal Ken?
===========Walks-on-Leaves============
The introduction of Dusk prompts the wolf that's settled next to Chance to watch him for a while. The tip of her ears and the cock of her head says that Walks on Leaves has Questions, but the shy wolf is hardly about to start barking at people she's barely met.
=================Rue==================
Rue gives a little chitter of sound in turn to Archimedes. <<The Weaver had it's purpose, unchecked it is our enemy, in balance we would barely even think about it. It has been very unchecked, you will get to kill many weaver things, but maybe not all.>> She offers or so reasonably to Archimedes Von Fluffernutter, who may or may not have recently used a flamethrower in questionable ways.
=========Weeps-with-Laughter==========
Weeps-with-Laughter shifts slightly where he sits, his ears perking at the introduction from Dusk. The big coyote glances toward Walks-on-Leaves first, catching her head tilt and flicking his tail against her flank in a silent, teasing acknowledgment of her curiosity. His sharp amber eyes then track to Maddy as she arrives from the shadows, her inquisitive gaze prompting a faint huff of amusement.
Turning his focus back to Dusk, he stretches lazily to his paws before padding closer to Maddy. He leans in briefly, his nose brushing her arm, and a low, melodious series of yips and howls escapes him, Coyote-speak, playful but pointed.
With that, they coyote's head tilts slightly, amber eyes gleaming with sharp curiosity as he waits to see how Maddy reacts. The soft rustle of his fur against the ground is the only sound he makes as he settles back beside Walks-on-Leaves, watching the group with a mix of amusement and scrutiny.
=========Weeps-with-Laughter==========
Weeps-with-Laughter says, "--- --- -- -- -- --- -- ----- -- --------- ----- ---- -- --- ---- ---- -- -- --- ---- ---- --- ------- ---- -- ----" <Lang: COYOTE>
================Locke=================
Arriving with an expression of discomfort and cynical dutifulness, Locke is adorned in "garage rock band" clothing, including denim and cloth jacket, black hiking boots and a pair of dark navy blue jeans. Locke finds a place to lean on something and listens to the important bits while trying to block out the chatter. "Hey everybody."
================Maddy=================
Maddy grins sheepishly to Chance and rolls her shoulder in a shrug. She then dips into her bag and removes a single flip flop offering it to her fellow Nuwisha with a grin.
=================Rue==================
Somewhere, along the way, as introductions began, Rue realized that someone had slipped through without one in the last gathering. And somewhere along the way, Rue had slipped behind Tori and given her a gentle nudge. "You're up, they need to know you." Kami's man, they do not care about boundaries, ever under Gaia's orders. Or so Rue would claim.
================Locke=================
Locke realizing he hasn't met many of the attendees. "Oh right, I am He Who Endures the Exile. Locke when I'm around humans." He says that last bit with an appropriate amount of sarcasm. "I am in fact the local Red Talon comedian..." Waiting for any snickers or heckles before he says. "Or should I say Ragabash? either way I hope to find a good place for myself in your Sept?" He asks questiongly for lack of familiarity rather than respect.
===========Walks-on-Leaves============
There's a startle from the pale furred wolf as Rue nudges Tori. A startled yip and she turns her muzzle towards the Kami and her eyes are wide. Oh yeah no.. no no no.. there's so much 'no' coming off her body language about the whole 'you're up' commentary. She turns to look at everyone, and watching a wolf try and invert into herself in shy is a sight to be seen for certain.
The barks and yiips and wriggles are quiet, and possibly impossible for most of the non garou to follow. <Uhh. Walks on Leaves..> She pauses there, entirely unable to share her human name with this form. <Of the half moon. A child of Gaia.> She feels like she's hit enough highlights and flops down to the floor, chin down and a paw over her muzzle.
==============Archimedes==============
Well since everybody else is giving their introductions, the rat figures he might as well. There are some here who don't know him just yet. From SOMEWHERE a small rat sized hat is produced. It's a tricorn, appearing very much like a pirate hat; black with a red feather in it. The hat goes on his rat had before he squeaks out, << I am the gread Dread Pirate Archimedes! Tava, or what equates to your Adren. We don't have Auspices. I am an Engineer. A cunning rat! >> He looks at Rue to translate all of that for him.
Walks-on-Leaves has voted for you.
=================Rue==================
Rue fights back a grin, putting on a very serious expression as she clears her throat apologetically. "The Ratkin in the dapper hat, would like it to be known that he is know as the Dread Pirate Archimedes, and he is a Tava among his people, a Adren among ours. He is a rat of cunning, and a clever engineer." She offers by way of introduction.
==============Lunafreya===============
Lunafreya’s expression hardens as the introductions meander into jest and confusion. She steps forward, her presence looming, commanding silence with a mere glance. Her voice, cold and sharp, cuts through the murmurs and movements like a blade:
"Enough." The Fury pauses, letting the weight of her words settle over the group. Her mismatched eyes flicker, scanning each face, her tone brooking no argument. "This is a sacred space. A place where we come together as children of the Mother, united by purpose. I will remind you all of the laws of common courtesy: when we gather as a mixed Sept, you will shift to Homid and speak in a tongue we all can understand. There is no excuse for leaving some among us in the dark. This is not the time for indulgent performances."
She turns briefly to Locke, her voice softening just slightly. "Ragabash will always be Ragabash. Their nonsense is expected, even appreciated in its proper place. But the rest of you—I expect better. Remember where you stand."
Lunafreya straightens, smoothing her tone as she pivots. "Now, we move forward. The Sept must be reorganized under a system that reflects our current needs, our current challenges. To help guide us, I have called upon Namkhai, a comrade from the Amazon War and a brother-in-arms whose wisdom and strength I trust deeply." She gestures toward the entrance as a powerful figure steps forward.
"He has traveled far to be with us here in Houston. He will lead this reorganization. Namkhai," she says, addressing him directly, "the floor is yours." She steps back, folding her arms, watching with quiet intensity as Namkhai prepares to speak.
=========Weeps-with-Laughter==========
Weeps-with-Laughter shifts a bit where he lounges, amber eyes gleaming with a mix of amusement and curiosity as introductions ripple through the gathering. His sharp gaze catches Walks-on-Leaves' shy display, the subtle "no" in her body language drawing a soft, encouraging huff from him. He flicks his tail against her flank in a gentle nudge as if to reassure her that she belongs here and to tease her for her reluctance all at once.
His ears perk as Maddy steps closer, offering the single flip-flop with that trademark Nuwisha grin. The big coyote tilts his head, an almost human-like gesture of bemused curiosity, before accepting the peculiar gift in his jaws. He saunters back toward Walks-on-Leaves, dropping the flip-flop at her paws with deliberate ceremony, his eyes gleaming with amusement. He nudges it toward her with his nose, his tail wagging lazily behind him. Clearly, this is her prize for braving her introduction.
Weeps-with-Laughter then lifts his head, his gaze sweeping across the gathering. One by one, he bows his head slightly to those who have spoken, Dusk, Locke, the pirate-hatted Archimedes... his manner playful but laced with quiet respect before his attention turns to Rue then Lunafreya.
================Maddy=================
Maddy grins and says "Remember you said that in the future, er about the Ragabash. Sooner or later the Nuwisha will rub someone the wrong way and were ALL ragabash.". . . . She looks up sheepishly and grins again "Just saying."
===============Namkhai================
There is there, in the dark, an immense figure clad in royal things. In fangs, and gold, and opals, and claws. In broken blades, in spent bullet casings, and his kilt - if you can call it that - is made from strips of hide that are so worn, so ugly, so twisted with Betrayal and Hate; they can only possibly be the raped and ravaged forms of Wyrm Things. Stripped and taken as trophies. This towering figure, this immensity that has been so quiet this whole time - when called by name - stares out from the dark with two glittering green eyes. Orange, then green, then back to brown. Human, but barely. Feral in appearance? Absolutely.
A step forward, and all the aforementioned riches pale in comparison to the glittering royal tiger's pelt clad against his form. So he is: Barefoot. Footsteps that make no sound move the large man through the crowd, straight for the center of the chamber as those brown eyes slowly cast across each and every individual face with all the piercing qualities of an appraiser; seeking...something.
"I -" The first word echoes, "- am Namkhai AMurtaiga Grey." His face still calm, his body lax, gracefully moving across the chamber so he might see face-to-face. One arm looped under the pelt just so, that it might be kept from lowering too closely to the earth below. Then maybe it is the snickering, the humor, or --
Gnosis flows from earth to bones to muscle. From toes to nose. An infusion of a terrible Something...and the cavern begins to violently shake. Quake. Tremble. Every footstep casting a shockwave through the very land itself -- "Called 'Breaker-of-Chains' now, in common speech!" His voice grows in volume, still walking as calmly as before. But every footstep shakes the very realm. "-- Chosen of Lord Earthquake! Mountain-Breaker! Cabrakan! I survived The Trial of Thunder and Stones, set by Lord Earthquake himself! Cracked the Heartstone of Cahlash -- The Wyrm!"
The gaze turns again, from those introducing previously to Luna herself, and then before him down to Rue where those eyes bore unblinking. "Slayer of my father, who grew fat and lazy! Who denied a promise to Golgol Fangs-First! Dishonoring my family! Now, I come, as promised by Golgol, and by me to Golgol, to form The Khanate and bring you The Warg!"
=================Dusk=================
Dusk watches the introductions, his gaze serene as he takes it all in. His attention flits to Lunafreya at the introductions and skitters into those gathered when Namkhai is introduced and makes his way forward. He watches intently, following the large man's gaze as it drifts to those around him. He understands little, but the gravity isn't lost on him.
=================Rue==================
Rue looks properly abashed, her dark inky eyes downcast for the part she played in Archimedes antics. Her cheeks a bit red with heat. The Kami was human enough to feel chastised it would seem. Though the gesture was briefly lived. Looking up from under her lashes to Lunafreya as she addresses the newest arrival. To send a cascade of copper curls half over the rat on her shoulder, as she turned to look at the figure breaking from the dark, and her gaze, lifts and lifts to his.
Watching with fixed attention as he crosses though the space, speaking as he goes, her breathing slow, deep, steady, and each breath a conscious bit of effort as he gives his name, and then another. But when the ground shakes at his steps, a hand lifts to help steady the rat on her shoulder, even as her legs spread to brace against the seismic ground.
But when Namkhai's eyes level on hers, she lifts hers to meet his gaze. Unflinchingly holding it, her lips forming a thin line. Her head weaves side to side ever so slightly, like a snake debating if it's about to strike..... there is the slightest peel of lip from teeth, and with it some subtext of communication, before she looks away, to see how the others are receiving this new addition. Her hand only now dropping away from guarding the companion on her shoulder.
================Chance================
Chance shifts into his homid form, a tall Native American man with long hair.
==============Lunafreya===============
Lunafreya stands steady as the ground beneath them trembles, a low rumble that sends a ripple of unease through the gathering. The quake crescendos just as Namkhai strides into the sacred space, his presence as imposing as the natural forces that seemed to herald his arrival. Dust settles, and all eyes turn to the warrior, whose theatrics demand attention. Lunafreya, however, is unfazed. She regards Namkhai with the faintest quirk of her lips—a flicker of approval or familiarity; but says nothing to acknowledge the dramatics. Instead, she raises her voice, calm yet commanding, drawing attention back to the matter at hand.
"Children of the Mother," she begins, her tone firm and resolute. "Today marks a turning point for our Sept. The Mother calls us to adapt, to strengthen our bonds and sharpen our purpose. To this end, I am introducing the Warg System—a structure forged in the fires of conflict and proven in the crucible of war."
She casts her gaze across the group, ensuring her words reach each one of them. "Under the Warg System, we will divide into smaller, specialized packs—each with a distinct purpose, each led by those best suited to guide them. Scouts, warriors, healers, and mystics alike will have their place, ensuring our Sept is prepared for every trial we may face." Her hand gestures toward Namkhai, acknowledging his presence without ceremony.
"Namkhai has fought alongside me and countless others equally as storied in the Amazon War. His wisdom, strength, and knowledge of this system have been invaluable. He will assist in implementing the Warg System and lead us in reorganizing our Sept for the battles to come." Lunafreya steps aside, giving Namkhai the space to address the gathering, but not before she adds with a pointed look at the crowd, "Let us meet this change with the discipline and unity befitting those who walk in the Mother's light. Tonight you will form packs here and now, and if you cannot find a pack you will be assigned to one."
She folds her arms, her piercing gaze lingering, daring anyone to break the solemnity of the moment. "Begin..."
<OOC> Lunafreya says, "There's 11 Shifters not counting Lunafreya or Rue, it would be ideal to see a pack of five and another of six. Anyone who isn't here will be assigned to a pack later. I would take this opportunity to take initiative if you are hoping to step into a leadership role."
================Maddy=================
Maddy arches a brow and looks to Chance as she tries to weigh his reaction. She seems to recognize that now is probably not the time to mention Coyotes are not really pack oriented.
================Locke=================
Locke seems a bit surprised when such a powerful being reveals they've been there all along. It is seen on his face and in his standing upright where he was leaning. "Worthy in deed and name, Namkhai." Locke assumes an arms crossed and attentive stance. "This is perfect, I was hoping to find a place for myself." He loosens his arms a little only to allow one hand to rest under his chin. "Now is when we fight for the leadership spots?" Only half joking he says.
================Ethan=================
Stepping forward, Ethan glances to Namkhai, still at parade rest, "I've been a second before for my former unit, and with things shifting towards city matters, I would volunteer for leading a guerilla warfare centric pack."
================Chance================
Weeps-with-Laughter shifts with a ripple of fur and sinew, his sendeh form melting into his homid shape in a fluid motion. The lean, sharp-featured man straightens, brushing his damp, dusky-brown hair back as his sharp amber eyes flicker with determination. His usual playful grin is softened, replaced by something more resolute.
Chance's gaze sweeps across the gathering, lingering on Lunafreya, Namkhai, and finally, Maddy, whose arched brow earns a faint, knowing tilt of his head. The smirk edges back onto his face, but his tone is serious as he speaks up. "I know Nuwisha aren't known for packs, for leading," he begins, his voice clear but not overly loud. "But maybe that's exactly why I should step up. A caern like this, mixed, full of Fera and Garou needs someone who can bridge that divide. Someone who can teach, guide, and keep us all moving toward Gaia's will with Coyote's humor and eye on teaching the lessons that need to be learned."
He gestures subtly toward Walks-on-Leaves as he continues, "I'll take the first step. I'll lead a pack, a place for Garou like Walks-on-Leaves here to learn and grow, and for Fera who want to stand united like Lenore and perhaps even Maddy. I might not be your traditional Alpha, but I know how to listen, teach, and bring out the best in those around me. Besides, I might be the oldest one here. Wisdom is something I have in droves."
Pulling his pipe out, he packs the bowl, adding, "We can be scouts and those focused on the umbral realms... Tori can be our muscle, Lenore our eyes in the sky, Maddy our scout..." He then smiles at those named, "I'm willing to take on anyone that wants to join. Even Rue can work with us if she wishes..."
===============Namkhai================
For many moments longer, Namkhai stares at and into Rue's own gaze. Then, throught he hairs, to the rat hiding on her shoulder. Then he is moving again and even as Lunafreya is speaking, the cavern quakes. Command Attention at its finest! Dust and stones fall and rocks roll. The Spirits are not immune to this quaking either; the Umbra, the Gloom, it shakes and ripples with gnosis-fueled footsteps.
"Wolves will form what you call Packs. These Packs fall into three categories --" He speaks as if speaking to a Company, "-- Borzoi, or 'Guardian'. Khumai, or 'Scout'." Steps shake the cavern, and Namkhai moves before Ethan who speaks out - and those eyes settle on the other man with all the weight they carry. "-- and War. These names are not hard to understand, nor is their mission. Lunafreya has given you a moment, I will give you three days. If in three days you Wolves have not found your Mission and Pack? I will put you there." The eyes drift over Ethan, then turn to Lunafreya and Namkhai just nods, turning away from the man to continue into the crowd.
"I am not 'Boss'. I am not 'Lord'. I am not 'King'. I am not 'Alpha'. I, am -Khan-." It is then that Chance has spoken, and with a slow turn of gaze from about fifteen feet into the crowd -- Namkhai's eyes shine orange, and then green. Then settle once more.
"A Pack always has a Pack Leader. Not an Alpha. You are thinking creatures. If you cannot think, I have no need for you -- and I will skin you." A pause to let it sink in, "A Pack Leader often commands an average of five Wolves. A WARG..." The word is shouted, so it echoes, and still Namkhai stares at Chance. Then turns his gaze to Lunafreya, nods, and continues walking -- shaking the cavern with his footsteps.
"...A Warg is commanded by a Battle Master. This is an average of fifteen wolves. Three packs. Often, it is two War, and one Borzoi." A pause -- a foot hanging in the air. "I, am your Khan. I, am your Battle-Master." Then it settles to the ground, and the world is quiet. Gnosis no longer shaking the earth under his bare feet -- but there is silence as Namkhai walks. "'Fera', 'Garou', these are not words you will after the next Full Moon. There is ONLY..." The massive man moves beside Lunafreya, staring over the others, "...The Khanate."