“Paradise lies in the shadow of swords.”
“Paradise lies in the shadow of swords.”
The words rattled through the Ghiyath’s head as he tried to take in the scene before him. It was so out of place and so unexpected he wasn’t even sure it was real. Surely this could not be what the Uktena witch had meant. Trust the Uktena to be cryptic, but he could not see how paradise had anything to do with the bloody mess before him.
The snow was drenched with blood, the blood of a mother and her child. The late afternoon threw the scene into deep shadow, making it seem grimmer still. It was a metis cub, true, but in this day and age, few tribes were so savage as to kill their own over such an all too frequent offense. Someone had taken the poor woman and pinned her to a tree with a sword so that the blade stuck out the back of the tree. The blow had been so hard that part of the hilt still stuck out of her ribs. From the looks of it, they’d probably done it while she was still alive. There wouldn’t be so much blood if she’d been dead.
The pup looked even worse as it had been pinned beneath its mother. It was so drenched with blood that he couldn’t tell what color its fur was. No clue as to what tribe it had been. The Strider hoped Black Spirals had done it, because if any other tribe was so sick and twisted to do this, Gaia help them all, the end must truly be near.
The blood was still wet, just starting to freeze, so whoever had done it couldn’t be too far off. He debated for a moment whether to search for a trail while it was still fresh or give a proper burial to the two. What good would he do burying them now when they’d already been so badly abused? He started to turn away and felt a chill run down his spine, the touch of something unseen. No, no, he’d seen too many humans left roaming the dark secret parts of the spirit world because of just such violent deaths. Garou supposedly went somewhere else when they died, but… he wasn’t really sure where. Better to give them proper burial just in case that somewhere else was just as bad as the places he’d gone, places bad enough to stain his fur black with their touch.
There was no good way to do this. He doubted he could pull the sword back out so he have to tear the body loose from it instead. He shifted up to Crinos and for a moment he thought of how comical he must look. Anubis tending to the dead, how appropriate. He almost laughed. It was better than crying.
“You are beyond pain now, but forgive me for what I must do to your body. It is but a vessel for the spirit, but none should ever have treated it so poorly.” The sound of tearing bone and flesh sickened him, but the body was free now, surprisingly heavy still. Why does a body empty of life always feel heavier than one that’s full of it?
He lay the body down and folded her hands across the ruins of her chest. He could almost cover up the hole where the sword had been. Almost. Now that the body was down, he revised his opinion. It wasn’t really a sword per se, but a Klaive. A quick glance at the body revealed an empty sheath. She’d been spitted on her own Klaive and her pup on a silver dagger. He couldn’t bring himself to mangle the pup so; he’d probably tear it half. He wrapped his claws around the hilt of the second blade and pulled with all his might, to be rewarded with a heart-rending wail from the pup.
He stumbled and fell in shock. It couldn’t possibly be alive! He’d dropped the knife in his shock, letting the pup fall with it. He leaped back to his feet and pressed his nose to the tiny body. The smell of blood was overwhelming. He whined and licked it, praying he hadn’t been imagining the whole thing. It felt so cold and limp…
He shifted down to Lupus and picked it up by the scruff, carrying it away from the bloody puddle at the base of the tree. He curled himself around the cub, whining and trying to lick some life back into it. He’d licked it clean and dry, but…nothing. The wound wasn’t as bad as he’d thought, but the cold seemed to have done what the sword hadn’t. He let his head fall in despair. He’d bury the pup with its mother just as soon as he gathered the strength to do so. He lay there, he didn’t know how long, lost to the depths of despair, before he felt it, the slight tickle in his ear as the cub exhaled just enough to stir the hair in his ears.
He bounded to his feet, tail wagging foolishly. He shoved his nose into the pup, drinking in the scent of it, letting his breath warm it. “Was this what the Uktena meant, little one? I rejoice to find you alive, but will the shadow of tragedy always hang over you? Will Paradise always be threatened?” He lay back down, curling around the pup. “I guess it is. The Wyrm’s coils grow ever tighter, threatening to crush Gaia. The serpent that threatens the Garden of Eden, as the humans would put it. But you are too little for all this. I babble and you don’t hear me, and even if you did, wouldn’t understand yet.”
He leapt back to his feet. “I’m talking nonsense and you need food and shelter and…and a mother…” His eyes fell back on the brutalized corpse of the pup’s mother. “I’ll kill the bastards for you! The monsters that took your mother and tried to kill you too! Even if they’re my own people…” He paused and looked back to the tree and the blade lying beneath it and then glanced back to the corpse.
He went back to his natural form, and picked up the knife in his hands. He considered leaving the other one buried in the tree, but they looked like a set. He wrestled with it for a moment before it came free. He knelt by the corpse and used the edge to hack of some of the woman’s long bloodstained hair. He fumbled with her belt, pulling it off, and putting the shorter blade back in her sheath. The belt didn’t fit so he slung it over his shoulder like a bandoleer.
“Forgive me, mother, but I cannot bury your body. Your cub still lives, but I need to take it somewhere to be cared for, quickly, while it still lives. I take this lock of hair so that I will have something to call your spirit with, so you might see your cub again, so that she will have something to remember you by later.” He brandished the Klaive before her face. “I’ll use this to take vengeance on those who did this to you. And if I cannot have vengeance, may your daughter wield it some day and use it for a nobler purpose.”
He kissed her on the forehead, pushing aside the sight of her to show this one last kindness. He scooped up the cub and called upon the spirits to lend him great speed so that he might make it to a sept with the cub. He ran and didn’t look back.
Night came and still the
Strider ran on, the cub cradled in one arm and sleeping fitfully, and the
Klaive gripped in the chilled fingers of his other hand. A half moon
rode in the sky and the Symphony of the Abyss rode on the wind.
“Do you hear, little one,
do you hear the cry of the creatures behind us? They come to finish
their work I think. Shh… I have not come so far to let them have
you now. Soon, soon, we will be close enough to call for help.”
He raced on, the ground
blurring beneath his feet, but still the mad whining howls came echoing
through the forest. He glanced up at the moon briefly and felt fire
rise within him. Thank you for your gift, Luna. He gave
up the form he’d been in, bulking up to Crinos. It slowed him a little
to weave through the trees in the larger form, but he would rather not
be caught unawares should his pursuers catch up with him.
Just a bit farther… out
of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a few glyphs scratched into
the bark of a tree. He was inside the bawn, someone would surely
hear him now if he cried out. And here I break the Litany myself,
for I have brought the Wyrm down upon this caern. He raised his
muzzle and cried out, wailing out a warning of the Wyrm spawn that dogged
his steps. He howled with all his might, desperate for someone to
hear him. But it was cut short as it twisted into a scream of pain.
Claw marks appeared across his back as one of his pursuers, raked its poison
coated claws down his spine.
He crouched, blade at the ready, a snarl upon his lips and the cub
clutched tight to his chest.
“Give it up, we are all
around you…” the twisted Garou snarled out, licking the Strider’s blood
from his claws. Cackling laughter rose from the shadows and one by
one, glowing baleful eyes materialized out of the forest.
“Never! I’ll fight
you all!” More hideous laughter from the onlookers.
“Make it easy on yourself,
give up now. We’ll make it quick.” The onlookers found this incredibly
amusing.
“What are you so afraid
of? One wounded Garou with a metis pup and you are too afraid to
fight!? Come, come dance with me, come dance with Ghiyath and Dhul Fiqar!”
The name came to his lips unbidden, and he knew it was the name of the
blade in his hands, or more properly, a name. He feinted at the Spiral
before him, who hastily got out of the way, eyes warily watching the Klaive.
Howls sounded in the forest,
he’d been heard, help was on the way! Assuming he could hold the
Spirals off that long. Even now he could see them tensing to spring.
He reached down deep to the fire within and waited, coiled to strike, ready
to unleash his full fury on his attackers.
They sprang and he sprang
as well, silver flashing in the moonlight, blood flying and screams and
howls rending the night air. A flash of bright shining fur and claws
driving back one of his attackers, and the snarls of other Garou joined
the fray. He fought in a haze, a red mist slowly creeping over his
vision as his fury took over. There was nothing but blood and death
in the air and as frenzy took him, no way to tell friend from foe anymore…
Tournament Format
Tribal Screws are not permitted. If you unsure which cards these are, consult this list.
Only one Dreamspeaker Mage and Gaia's Vengeance may be played per pack per game (though you may have up to three in your deck)
For this tournament only, you are asked to bring a Wyrm deck and a Gaia deck. We would like even numbers of Gaia and Wyrm players, and this is the only way to ensure that. We will try to give you the faction you want, but you may be asked to play the bad guys (or the good guys, you Wyrmish fiends!) in order to even out the numbers. The top two Wyrm and Gaia decks will then duke it out in the final to determine the overall outcome of the clash between the forces of the Wyrm and the Garou in the storyline.
Swiss format. For those of you unfamiliar with that, everyone plays every round but the finals. Highest renown overall determines who goes to the finals. Play will be three rounds of fifty minutes each or to a win at twenty renown, followed by a final untimed round of the top two Gaia, and top two Wyrm decks. Rounds will be four player melees unless the number does not divide evenly, in which case it will drop to threes or be pushed to five, no more, no less.
Rules and FAQs
Prizes
Commisioned Statue- currently awaiting final paint job. A painted version will be posted AFTER the tournament, so that the attendees will be the first to see the finished product. This is what it looks like with nothing more thay grey primer. This statue is Gaia-friendly! It is made of recycled and non-toxic materials (clay frequently contains lead).
Set of hand made knives with decorative carving on blades and leather sheaths. Wooden handle, probably teak. CAUTION: these are real weapons and very sharp. Large knife is 14 inches, 8 of which is the blade and a quarter inch thick. Estimated to weight at least a pound. Smaller knife is 10 and half inches long, five and half of which is the blade.
These are black steel blades and will rust if not properly cleaned and cared for on a regular basis. If you win this set and are unsure what proper cleaning entails, there will be someone on hand to answer your knife care questions.
The seller claimed it was an ax and knife combo. Mostly it's just sharp and pointy. Stainless steel so requires less care and cleaning. Comes with faux leather sheath. (I'm not thrilled with the sheath)
Bone Knife- Good Sportsman
This is a decorative piece and not intended for combat, obviously enough.
Good sportsman will be determined by a vote of the judges, though if you
play against a particuarly good sport (or bad, though we're hoping none
of those show up), you can tell the judges you really think they deserve
it. The picture doesn't really do a good job of shng this off.
There's a village scene etched onto the knife, which would be the lighter
marks.
