Post by Nick on Dec 22, 2012 1:30:13 GMT -6
Bear requested that those who told stories during the Yule game post them here so he can read them, so I will start it off. Here is Gavreth's tale from the evening.
"This is the tale of Ihrin Dragomir, Theurge of my own Tribe. Known to the Nation and those Garou of a passing age as The Serpent's Tongue. Ihrin was a woman and Theurge of immense spiritual understanding, some considered her a prodigy, others still considered her to be a threat to their own power, especially other Shadow Lords. During her time as an active Garou, Ihrin was obsessed with an object, a legendary fetish that was made by a powerful Garou, known as the Margrave Konietzko. This fetish is known as Thunder's Bracers, and it is rumored that these bracers are infused with a portion of Grandfather Thunder himself. How the Margrave came about making these is unknown, and a story I would imagine many have perished in the process of attempting to discover. Ihrin coveted this fetish, for while she was quite formidable in the spiritual realm, where none in her Sept could match her prowess, her adeptness in spiritual manipulation and sheer mental fortitude, she had neglected her physical training tothe point where she could only be considered sub par in combat with the minions of the Wyrm. Which is understandable to an extent, when one is neck deep in chiminage and spiritual bans in order to garner favors from the Umbra, one tends to not have much time to devote to other matters, becoming a slippery slope indeed. Nevertheless, with Thunder's Bracers, Ihrin would not only be a most powerful theurge, but she would also channel the power of Thunder himself through her body, and therefore she would be a complete vehicle of destruction for her and her pack's agenda. So, she began her plotting, and wrestled furiously with herself as to whether she would inform her pack, or work alone in her obsession. While a pack is closer than family, more precious than blood...sometimes, they can turn on another just as family can ruin one another. A very delicate situation, Ihrin has found herself in. Yet against her better judgment, she thought that with the assistance of her pack, she would more easily be able to acquire the fetish, and then if others in her pack questioned whom would wear them, she would deal with that particular piece of business in the future. And so the pack plotted, Ihrin weaving through the spirit world, sending her spies and spirits to watch and pick away at the Margrave's connection with Thunder's Gauntlets. The Ahroun and Galliard of the pack meeting with the Margrave, working to secure his trust and his favor to lend them to less suspicion as a whole. All the while, Ihrin was blind to the absolute ease in which her goal was coming to her. Everything went perfectly, the spirits were eroding the bond which the Malgrave had wrought with the spirit within them. The others of her pack would regularly meet with the man, becoming fast friends. It was not until that fateful evening, when Ihrin's world came crashing down upon her, and she had realized her folly. The pack which she had known and served for years, would be her undoing. Ihrin stole into the Malgrave's home late one evening, assisted by the Ragabash of her pack. The others would enter the home from a different way during the evening, in entertaining the Malgrave with dinner and discussion as to keep suspicions away. Ihrin crept into the home, and entered the Malgrave's training area. The dojo was immaculate, the weaponry, training equipment, and even the wood of the floor and the decor of the room spoke of a well trained, highly deadly Shadow Lord Ahroun. And in a place of reverence, upon the mantle were Thunder's Bracers. The item of Ihrin's obsession, of her fascination; the means by which she would grasp power and the spoils of war with an iron fist and the hordes of the Umbra at her very fingertips. As she reached upon the mantle to grasp those bracers in her hands, her mind searching, exploring the spirit within the fetish, she found absolutely nothing. In her hands were nothing but a replica of the item which had drove her to these lengths. As her face came to the realization in its expression, a cold, deadly chuckle filled the room. The Malgrave had anticipated such a move, and standing at his side was Ihrin's pack. They all spoke their piece, stating that Ihrin's obession was a weakness of the pack that they could not abide by, the obsession had clouded her mind, and her frail body was no longer of use to her packmates. So they had dealt her straight into the Malgrave's hands. The Malgrave stepped forth, and with those powerful fists full of Grandfather's strength and rage, he struck down the Theurge with but a single blow. He would not kill her though. No...death was too kind a penalty for her trespass. Instead, he left her broken physically, unable to do the most simple of tasks without assistance. And her mind...after the extensive tortures inflicted upon her by the Malgrave's hand, she was naught but a babbling mess, with only an hour or two a day that she could commit to lucidity. Thus, this story teaches us many things. Firstly...to obsess oneself with objects that would grant you power, when the ability to grasp it on your own is folly. Secondly, when you have taken the sacred oath of a packmate, one to another, you must not allow yourself to become the weak link in the structure, lest the entire pack break. And lastly, should you find the first two impossible to avoid...don't get caught with your pants down."
"This is the tale of Ihrin Dragomir, Theurge of my own Tribe. Known to the Nation and those Garou of a passing age as The Serpent's Tongue. Ihrin was a woman and Theurge of immense spiritual understanding, some considered her a prodigy, others still considered her to be a threat to their own power, especially other Shadow Lords. During her time as an active Garou, Ihrin was obsessed with an object, a legendary fetish that was made by a powerful Garou, known as the Margrave Konietzko. This fetish is known as Thunder's Bracers, and it is rumored that these bracers are infused with a portion of Grandfather Thunder himself. How the Margrave came about making these is unknown, and a story I would imagine many have perished in the process of attempting to discover. Ihrin coveted this fetish, for while she was quite formidable in the spiritual realm, where none in her Sept could match her prowess, her adeptness in spiritual manipulation and sheer mental fortitude, she had neglected her physical training tothe point where she could only be considered sub par in combat with the minions of the Wyrm. Which is understandable to an extent, when one is neck deep in chiminage and spiritual bans in order to garner favors from the Umbra, one tends to not have much time to devote to other matters, becoming a slippery slope indeed. Nevertheless, with Thunder's Bracers, Ihrin would not only be a most powerful theurge, but she would also channel the power of Thunder himself through her body, and therefore she would be a complete vehicle of destruction for her and her pack's agenda. So, she began her plotting, and wrestled furiously with herself as to whether she would inform her pack, or work alone in her obsession. While a pack is closer than family, more precious than blood...sometimes, they can turn on another just as family can ruin one another. A very delicate situation, Ihrin has found herself in. Yet against her better judgment, she thought that with the assistance of her pack, she would more easily be able to acquire the fetish, and then if others in her pack questioned whom would wear them, she would deal with that particular piece of business in the future. And so the pack plotted, Ihrin weaving through the spirit world, sending her spies and spirits to watch and pick away at the Margrave's connection with Thunder's Gauntlets. The Ahroun and Galliard of the pack meeting with the Margrave, working to secure his trust and his favor to lend them to less suspicion as a whole. All the while, Ihrin was blind to the absolute ease in which her goal was coming to her. Everything went perfectly, the spirits were eroding the bond which the Malgrave had wrought with the spirit within them. The others of her pack would regularly meet with the man, becoming fast friends. It was not until that fateful evening, when Ihrin's world came crashing down upon her, and she had realized her folly. The pack which she had known and served for years, would be her undoing. Ihrin stole into the Malgrave's home late one evening, assisted by the Ragabash of her pack. The others would enter the home from a different way during the evening, in entertaining the Malgrave with dinner and discussion as to keep suspicions away. Ihrin crept into the home, and entered the Malgrave's training area. The dojo was immaculate, the weaponry, training equipment, and even the wood of the floor and the decor of the room spoke of a well trained, highly deadly Shadow Lord Ahroun. And in a place of reverence, upon the mantle were Thunder's Bracers. The item of Ihrin's obsession, of her fascination; the means by which she would grasp power and the spoils of war with an iron fist and the hordes of the Umbra at her very fingertips. As she reached upon the mantle to grasp those bracers in her hands, her mind searching, exploring the spirit within the fetish, she found absolutely nothing. In her hands were nothing but a replica of the item which had drove her to these lengths. As her face came to the realization in its expression, a cold, deadly chuckle filled the room. The Malgrave had anticipated such a move, and standing at his side was Ihrin's pack. They all spoke their piece, stating that Ihrin's obession was a weakness of the pack that they could not abide by, the obsession had clouded her mind, and her frail body was no longer of use to her packmates. So they had dealt her straight into the Malgrave's hands. The Malgrave stepped forth, and with those powerful fists full of Grandfather's strength and rage, he struck down the Theurge with but a single blow. He would not kill her though. No...death was too kind a penalty for her trespass. Instead, he left her broken physically, unable to do the most simple of tasks without assistance. And her mind...after the extensive tortures inflicted upon her by the Malgrave's hand, she was naught but a babbling mess, with only an hour or two a day that she could commit to lucidity. Thus, this story teaches us many things. Firstly...to obsess oneself with objects that would grant you power, when the ability to grasp it on your own is folly. Secondly, when you have taken the sacred oath of a packmate, one to another, you must not allow yourself to become the weak link in the structure, lest the entire pack break. And lastly, should you find the first two impossible to avoid...don't get caught with your pants down."
