Mikals Diary
April 7
We are in the realm of Attrocities. The place stinks, and danger resides all arround.
Mathias, our illustrious pack leader is binding an emanation of a serial killing BSD
for questioning. Seems done, though Mathias appears to be sweating now. First question
was what is your name. Came back as a garbled mess, might be the spirits name not the
BSD's. It's human name appears to be Moloci (as in Moloch the demon it appears). Mathias
has just asked him where he lives, doesn't make any sense to the spirit. Might be an
emanation thing.
Mathias got another dumb response from the spirit when he asked why it was here. Must be
the fact that the emanation doesn't exist outside the scene. Some kind of strange shit
happening at the edges of the scene. Seems to be craking up in some way.
Ahha! The BSD is sacraficing to the spirit Callogeeehna which apart from being a type
of pasta, also gives us a lead to go on. Unfotuneately at this point the scene seems
to be cracking up way too badly. An' we got pushed back into the attrocity realm.
Jane for some reason seems pissed. Dunno why.
Bad things coming (how about that for a rock song title... nah) Ghouly stringy dead
like things. Hey shotguns seem to work. Mathias is shouting something, seems to drive
the Ghoulies away. Must learn that sometime. Strategic withdrawl. Nothing like running
away. Anyway the ghoulies seem busy munching each other. Jane did quite well shreding
them.
We slipped into a Oz bush scene. Aborigine camp up ahead. Whitefella on horseback. Well
this is the way to leave I guess. Death is just a door and all that.
April 8 + 9
Back in the Umbra it appears. Somewhere in the Umbra that is. Somewhere. Anyone know
where? It appears that sheanie found a path, and we're on our way back home. Sleep
keep going. It's amazing how few words can describe a couple of days really.
April 10
Back in good old Melbourne. Back in the Caern even. Need to debrief to Cossack. He's
in the city on Rathdowne st. I hand back the shotgun-fetish back to Shatter-Glass.
Better for him to have it.
Cossack is in the middle of the road looking at the world go past. Down the end of the
street, in the middle of the de-brief, a large hairy crinoid figure dropped onto
a car and commenced to rip apart the car. The pack run down there while Jane is
screaming at Cossack. Must be that the emanation we were pounding on has followed
us back to the really real world.
Go and check out the mess while the rest run arround looking for other things. Step into
the Umbra to check that side of things. Nothing seems out of place so I step back.
I stepped back under where the car should have been. Seems odd that they've already
carted the evidence away. But then again nobody seems surprised about the big hairy thing
so that fits. Almost get hit by a car. Decide to fit in and leap in the air and wear
the bear shirt and land on a car. Nobody was taking any notice of that before.
Sometimes hindsight is a wonderful thing. And I know I shouldn't hunt down my elders
and sacrafice them to the dark lords for what they have done to me. But sometimes
a Garou has to do what a Garou has to do. Did find how useful the flak jacket was
though. Seems we stepped into a mirror realm. Like lots of people know about them.
I mean of course. Anyone could have seen we were in a mirror realm. And everybody
knew about mirror realms didn't they. Seems everyone knew about them.
Apart from us that is.
So here I am. Killing innocents and throwing away fetishes. Because of a lack of
information that 'everybody knew' and no-one thought to tell us. Some days you
really want to kill someone. And in this case our superior *drawn sneer in margin*
officers were to blame. Letting us go into the darkest places and not letting
us have a decent amount of information. Now if no-one knew about mirror realms.
Or maybe one ancient sept member knew about them in myths. Then I wouldn't be so........
angry.
You send the young and the fit and the best into darkness to find what you cannot.
But not telling them all you can is criminal. To draw a legal parallel. If you ask
someone to walk out a door, and they die because of it, then you are not responsible.
If you ask someone to walk out a door, and you knew there was a good chance they
would die, then it is murder.