#baronyofthesilverwolf

As she kens, it quickly comes visible... hidden from the 'Real' world, but clearly seen here.

The massive tree in the clearing is tainted... The branches are coated with sticky, greyish green webbing that glows with a sickly light. It looks like spider silk, but no spiderweb Dagmar or Delorean have ever seen has looked like this. Ragged, chaotic strands - here to there, zigzagging, like a knitting pattern except the needler is on cocaine. It's a mess, and in the center of the broken, mish-mashed webbing is a giant cocoon.

She has a mission, and that helps... primal fear countered by willpower.

Strands of the sticky thread trail down and coat the ground, and fall across each shoulder or head of the people gathered there, they all have a sticky webbing touching them. Coating them lightly, covering their eyes and ears...

D'Lorean swallows then sees the webbing. "What the..." a scowl

"Okay, so... I think we found the bad thing?"

The two wolf-folk circle and snap at each other, growling in their own Garou tongue. A challenge.... and the prize? A slumped figure, tied to a tree... a tree a sapling a mighty oak a stump an acorn once more... no, it's... it's a tree. And Aiden is tied to it, surrounded by a circle of salt.

She grabs Flyswatter - how real or not real the blade is in the Umbra is uncertain.

"Flyswater, maybe if it has a silver touch it's a GOOD thing. You can cut the webs?"

Lying near him, an iron horseshoe fallen to the ground... some small favor of da'an caused the chain to break.

Flyswatter is in her hands, solid and as real as ever it feels in the dreaming....

A grunt as she eyes the cocoon.

And a gleaming flash as the halberd arcs to cleave into the hateful heart of the web.

As she cuts, the baleful web sizzles and pops - flyswatter seems alright, but a strand falls on her arm, and it burns until she swats it away! There is something toxic and vile about it...

A slice into the cocoon, and golden light starts to spill out as the being trapped there struggles.

"Oh hell" the Satyress says "let's try this.. Rip tear and yank"

She uses the hooked end to rip at the webbing.

ANd tries a cantrip!

Trying to gimmix the webbing.. she doesn't want to touch it, but she tries to tear it from the eyes of the half moon guy

He SHRIEKhowls in a way that makes other bystanders rise and stare, as it unravels from around him.... and he is unveiled. This one is dizzying to look at, his form of an immense yet magnificent wolf-creature melting away to reveal a Cronenbergian monstrosity, half man, half spider, all demonic and ooozing with bad juju.

Dagmar grimaces,but keeps at the cocoon.

"the hell?"

Dagmar's hook tears away the webbing, and with a shriek that is more like a piercing bell, a giant golden form BURSTS free as a mighty falcon is released! As the tone sounds, the world itself seems to tremble, and they find themselves spinning, spinning, and on the ground.... back in the mortal realm, as a giant Falcon flaps it's wings above them.

"Fomorians. Like - Balor and Thallain, but werewolves."

Well, she starts to say that, but then she's falling!

And the Satyr moves to the Baron with a running ful tilt speed attempting to grab him and get him out of htere

With a final cry, the mighty Falcon totem burns away the webbing, leaving only the garou behind.... and one MONSTROSITY. A growl rises, as each of the onlookers grows and twists, becoming many times larger and with long teeth and claws...

For a second, Sam is a mortal girl amidst wolves...

And they leap, almost as one.... falling upon the Wyrmbeast, the Fomorian monstrosity.... with ferocity that would make even a battle-hardened Redcap quaver.

And then, in another heartbeat... the Dreaming is called, and Dagmar Hammerstrike is there - a gold falcon on her tabard and a great polearm in her hands. She lays on with the wolves!

"Baron Aiden.. I have you.. " She moves to free him

He is barely conscious, but still in there.

Dagmar Hammerstrike's blade glows golden as it cuts into the beast! Even as it draws power from whatever eldritch nether realm it feeds from, no one Bane can withstand an entire pack AND a Troll on a mission.

Her slice hews through a leg, and as it topples, it goes down under a mass of snarling, snapping, ripping and tearing beasts.

And the Satyr kisses her leige putting a bit of glamour into him then parting "That tends to work in stories"

Dagmar doesn't have a Garou's speed, but in her true form she hits as hard as they do.

"Do I get one of those, too?" Asks Nevara, leaning with a hand against a tree. She blinks blearily, just making out shapes. The crow on her shoulder preens her hair a bit, then flies off.

Nevara will have QUITE a story for Parliament!

"NEvera, we all get out of this alive and well , I may give you an hour of my time doing whatever you like most"

The monster is slain, but at least 3 of the loup garou are in a frenzy, ripping and tearing at the corpse... until a somewhat smaller figure, one with a twisted leg and reddish fur, produces a flute from his pocket and starts to play.

Dagmar backs down, reducing and returning to "Sam"

And slowly, the rage fades from their eyes... and they step back.

And the Satyress turns and stands "You are in our DEBT" Looking at the Garou'

Nevara taps Delorean on the chest with a finger, "A fae always keeps her promise, I've been told." And steps past her, past Sam / Dagmar, and throws her arms wide. "Hear me O Wolves! Hear the cry of Nevara Brightwing, friend to the Wolf Lake Pack! You have TRIUMPHED THIS DAY! A wyrm-tainted Weaver spirit through to invade your very ranks, but Falcon is too wise, too cunning, and called the Fair Folk to your side that you could defeat the beast!"

Dag holds a hand to Dee - indicating the satyr wait.

Oh, she could be a politician, or an Ailil spokesperson - massage the ego, frame it as their own victory! It seems that this pack may be not unlike Ailil themselves... proud and noble...

And the Satyr does, albeit with gritted teeth

A low mutter. "Falcons are proud."

Well, eprhaps a snarl on her lips, or a display of goat fangs (Which... which are just teeth but she keeps them in good care. Nice shine)

A hand out to Dee, placating, as she continues. "You have defeated the bane who challenged you, Alpha Terra Half-Moon. But not alone. And at what cost?" A gesture at the limp form of the Baron. "A treaty of generations... shall it fall asunder?"

The teenager folds her arms, stubborn and stoic.

Several of the wolves growl to each other, but the one that Nevara speaks to approaches, and melts down into her human form... looking remarkably plain, an older Caucasian woman with blond hair starting to turn to silvery gray.

"Still your tongue, Raven. We all saw what transpired." A pause. "After our eyes were cleared." Looking at Sam, and at Dee... examining, but not judging them - this is one who clearly knows the difference between a mortal shell and what majestic creamy center may lie within.

"You're welcome" D'Lorean crosses her own arms