The late afternoon sun beat down on the backs of the students of Western New Mexico University. The recent murders of certain University Staff as well as a few Silver Cityites still confounded police and students alike. Well, all but the few Awakened on campus. They knew each of the victims had been one of them, a Mage.
The heat was beginning to dissipate from the cement and 4 of the aforementioned Awakened awaited the arrival of their Cabal mentor, Rodrigo Gavins, head of the campus janitorial staff, and also an Awakened, a Mage himself, of the Cult of Ecstacy. They all three sat underneath a patio table outside of a Sleeper bistro near the campus, attempting to look as just an innocent meeting between a professor and a couple of students that had caught his fancy.
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North of New Mexico, in one of the last few outposts in the wilderness of North America, the sun had begun its dip under the horizon. A lone auburn furred wolf stood on an overlook watching the townsfolk. Contemptible they were, but there was another two Garou in town, Hominid born, but still one of his kind, and both tasked with making sure he learned the ways of the humans and to not partake of their flesh again. They may have been punished and forced to live among them, but that didn't mean they weren't allowed at the monthly Moot.
A Full Moon tonight, and the howls in the night told of a great meet, three missing, two taken back to their families, dismembered, the Wyrm had to have been involved, who else knew of their kind and were able to so easily subdue them? Only one sighting of the presumed killer, and they surely appeared human, but the scent was off somehow.
Tate was one of the Hominids in town today, the fact that it was also Moot Night was a plus, as it meant he didn't have to come into town again anytime soon for his supplies. He received warm greetings as he passed through town, arriving at the Wolf's Howl, the local bar, of one Mason Moore, a giant of a man, as well as a member of the Get of Fenris. The only other Garou that lived in town, and known to be a gentle, but violent when angered, man. As Lucas entered, the man with arms akin to Redwoods behind the bar nodded and pulled a highballer, a beer, and a barrel shotglass, emblazoned with the bar's symbol on it in front of a worn stool.
"What'll it be today, Tate?" The man asked in his trademarked gravelly, but strangely perfectly pitched voice.
The night was still young, not even really started actually, so there were only two other people in the bar, a young couple who held Tate in the highest regard for his ability to live out in the wilderness all by himself, in this day and age no less!
"Whatever it is Mr. Moore, it's on us," the girl said, obviously underage, but no one around here minded enough to keep the two of them out of the bar. Any family punishment was going to be at the very least twice as bad as any fine the state slapped on them, and Mason didn't much care about the state, he could just disappear and never be found again in this wilderness.
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Yet again, in Motown, the sun had dipped over the horizon, and the Kindred of Detroit came out of their havens to feed. Olivier Valentine, his protegee Desmond Bowler, and their mutual ally with a few disagreements, Daniel Graham. The night was theirs, so long as they stayed together and weren't picked off by the Baker, as they were calling him. And day was when they were the most vulnerable, which is why their local Baron had ordered them to start walking the night together, to make sure enough of them were relatively safe. Where would they start?
The heat was beginning to dissipate from the cement and 4 of the aforementioned Awakened awaited the arrival of their Cabal mentor, Rodrigo Gavins, head of the campus janitorial staff, and also an Awakened, a Mage himself, of the Cult of Ecstacy. They all three sat underneath a patio table outside of a Sleeper bistro near the campus, attempting to look as just an innocent meeting between a professor and a couple of students that had caught his fancy.
_________________________________________________________________________________________________
North of New Mexico, in one of the last few outposts in the wilderness of North America, the sun had begun its dip under the horizon. A lone auburn furred wolf stood on an overlook watching the townsfolk. Contemptible they were, but there was another two Garou in town, Hominid born, but still one of his kind, and both tasked with making sure he learned the ways of the humans and to not partake of their flesh again. They may have been punished and forced to live among them, but that didn't mean they weren't allowed at the monthly Moot.
A Full Moon tonight, and the howls in the night told of a great meet, three missing, two taken back to their families, dismembered, the Wyrm had to have been involved, who else knew of their kind and were able to so easily subdue them? Only one sighting of the presumed killer, and they surely appeared human, but the scent was off somehow.
Tate was one of the Hominids in town today, the fact that it was also Moot Night was a plus, as it meant he didn't have to come into town again anytime soon for his supplies. He received warm greetings as he passed through town, arriving at the Wolf's Howl, the local bar, of one Mason Moore, a giant of a man, as well as a member of the Get of Fenris. The only other Garou that lived in town, and known to be a gentle, but violent when angered, man. As Lucas entered, the man with arms akin to Redwoods behind the bar nodded and pulled a highballer, a beer, and a barrel shotglass, emblazoned with the bar's symbol on it in front of a worn stool.
"What'll it be today, Tate?" The man asked in his trademarked gravelly, but strangely perfectly pitched voice.
The night was still young, not even really started actually, so there were only two other people in the bar, a young couple who held Tate in the highest regard for his ability to live out in the wilderness all by himself, in this day and age no less!
"Whatever it is Mr. Moore, it's on us," the girl said, obviously underage, but no one around here minded enough to keep the two of them out of the bar. Any family punishment was going to be at the very least twice as bad as any fine the state slapped on them, and Mason didn't much care about the state, he could just disappear and never be found again in this wilderness.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________
Yet again, in Motown, the sun had dipped over the horizon, and the Kindred of Detroit came out of their havens to feed. Olivier Valentine, his protegee Desmond Bowler, and their mutual ally with a few disagreements, Daniel Graham. The night was theirs, so long as they stayed together and weren't picked off by the Baker, as they were calling him. And day was when they were the most vulnerable, which is why their local Baron had ordered them to start walking the night together, to make sure enough of them were relatively safe. Where would they start?
