Teeth in the Dark
Two coyotes ran through back alleys and over trash-strewn streets in Harlem. They ran for their lives, using every trick they'd ever learned to stay one step ahead of a cackling, blood-curdling darkness that was hot on their heels. The stink of the Wyrm was almost choking in their throats, as if the Wyrm itself was reaching out to catch the two Nuwisha for its pets to rip apart. One of the two yipped loudly as sharp teeth dripping poisonous slime passed so close the stinking mouth pulled out a chunk of fur from his tail. His sister, a little lighter and quicker on her feet, threw back her head in a desperate howl. The Garou nearby weren't entirely fond of Nuwisha, but anything was better than what chased them. Than what wanted the secret they protected.
The Black Spiral Dancers had come for their Caern.
Summoning the last of their energy, they reached the walls hiding their Caern from the rest of the city and whirled around to face the Dancers. Six of the Wyrm-corrupted wolves chased them, looking like a pack of rabid dogs. But as the Nuwisha changed form to fight, so too did the Dancers. The balance of the fight could not have been more one-sided. The Nuwisha would not have been a match for a normal Garou, much less one of these monsters. Six of them? They were doing nothing but delaying the inevitable. But as the two Nuwisha snarled and snapped at their pursuers, holding them at a distance for the moment, they prayed the delay would be all they needed. Their lives didn't matter. The Caern did. To that end, the female Nuwisha threw back her head and howled again, the sound deeper and more urgent in her Manabozho form, her war form. She imparted all of the supernatural urgency she could in the sound. She prayed desperately that the Garou would hear her.
Now that the prey weren't running, the Dancers laughed amongst themselves. Being chosen as the ones to lead the charge to the new Hive was a great honor, and with the prey cornered now, their victory was all but assured. They playfully snapped at the Nuwisha, laughing madly as the terrified coyotes tried to avoid the blows or snapped back. They were waiting, too. Waiting on the rest of the hunting party to catch up. Another ten Dancers had been assigned to ensure the neighborhood was clear of unwanted witnesses before meeting at the Nuwisha's Caern to begin the process of claiming it for the Wyrm. The leader of the hunting party, a big Ahroun, briefly toyed with the idea of making the Nuwisha dance the Spiral. They couldn't, of course, but they'd go mad in the attempt and the result might be interesting.
But no. After one of the annoying coyotes caught his muzzle in a lucky blow and he felt blood dripping down his face, he growled. They would die. He just wanted the rest of the Dancers here to witness his victory.
The Black Spiral Dancers' distraction with their prey was probably the only reason they didn't hear or sense the vampires' approach. The first clue were the rats. More rats than usual for New York City swarmed the alley, towards the shapeshifters instead of away from them as would make sense. They couldn't do much more than distract the Dancers, but they did it well, biting at exposed skin with razor teeth and taking chunks of flesh. More than one Dancer ended up bleeding before they realized the danger in the maddened horde of rats. Then came the scrabbling of raccoons and one or two real coyotes, similarly enraged enough to attack the Dancers with reckless abandon.
In the middle of it all, suddenly, were two...creatures? They were not human, that much was obvious. Neither carried weapons, but neither needed to. Both were transformed. Their faces were horrors, both vaguely shark-like in appearance. Their skin, too, was shark-like. They even had shark tails. But their hands and feet were webbed and tipped with razor sharp claws. Their teeth were long and sharp. The effect made them look like...well, like Rokea. Except both had a tattoo of a fanged, flaming skull peeking through the sharp scales on their forearms, as if the ink transferred directly through the shark skin.
Both vampires pushed their way through the melee until they stood with their backs to the Nuwisha, between them and the Dancers. They grinned, a baring of long teeth, and lashed their tails. Amalric didn't need to look at Gundhram to know how badly he wanted to attack the loathsome wolves, he could feel it in his blood. They were corrupted, evil, and though the two Gangrel weren't exactly on good terms with Gaia's Chosen, they didn't take kindly to anyone who was that corrupted spreading their evil. While others, Alessandro included, might have given warning, as far as Amalric was concerned, the animals that preceded them were the warning. He lashed out, grabbing a nearby Dancer in his clawed hands and bit the Garou's head clean off. The next, he backhanded, ripping stinking skin and muscle away from bone thanks to his sharp scales as the corrupted thing went flying. He could feel Gundhram's satisfaction as he, too, laid into the monsters.
When more cackling in the distance announced the arrival of more Dancers, both vampires merely grinned. This was going to be a good fight, after all.
Behind them, the Nuwisha stared, clearly unsure if they should intervene or not.
The Black Spiral Dancers had come for their Caern.
Summoning the last of their energy, they reached the walls hiding their Caern from the rest of the city and whirled around to face the Dancers. Six of the Wyrm-corrupted wolves chased them, looking like a pack of rabid dogs. But as the Nuwisha changed form to fight, so too did the Dancers. The balance of the fight could not have been more one-sided. The Nuwisha would not have been a match for a normal Garou, much less one of these monsters. Six of them? They were doing nothing but delaying the inevitable. But as the two Nuwisha snarled and snapped at their pursuers, holding them at a distance for the moment, they prayed the delay would be all they needed. Their lives didn't matter. The Caern did. To that end, the female Nuwisha threw back her head and howled again, the sound deeper and more urgent in her Manabozho form, her war form. She imparted all of the supernatural urgency she could in the sound. She prayed desperately that the Garou would hear her.
Now that the prey weren't running, the Dancers laughed amongst themselves. Being chosen as the ones to lead the charge to the new Hive was a great honor, and with the prey cornered now, their victory was all but assured. They playfully snapped at the Nuwisha, laughing madly as the terrified coyotes tried to avoid the blows or snapped back. They were waiting, too. Waiting on the rest of the hunting party to catch up. Another ten Dancers had been assigned to ensure the neighborhood was clear of unwanted witnesses before meeting at the Nuwisha's Caern to begin the process of claiming it for the Wyrm. The leader of the hunting party, a big Ahroun, briefly toyed with the idea of making the Nuwisha dance the Spiral. They couldn't, of course, but they'd go mad in the attempt and the result might be interesting.
But no. After one of the annoying coyotes caught his muzzle in a lucky blow and he felt blood dripping down his face, he growled. They would die. He just wanted the rest of the Dancers here to witness his victory.
The Black Spiral Dancers' distraction with their prey was probably the only reason they didn't hear or sense the vampires' approach. The first clue were the rats. More rats than usual for New York City swarmed the alley, towards the shapeshifters instead of away from them as would make sense. They couldn't do much more than distract the Dancers, but they did it well, biting at exposed skin with razor teeth and taking chunks of flesh. More than one Dancer ended up bleeding before they realized the danger in the maddened horde of rats. Then came the scrabbling of raccoons and one or two real coyotes, similarly enraged enough to attack the Dancers with reckless abandon.
In the middle of it all, suddenly, were two...creatures? They were not human, that much was obvious. Neither carried weapons, but neither needed to. Both were transformed. Their faces were horrors, both vaguely shark-like in appearance. Their skin, too, was shark-like. They even had shark tails. But their hands and feet were webbed and tipped with razor sharp claws. Their teeth were long and sharp. The effect made them look like...well, like Rokea. Except both had a tattoo of a fanged, flaming skull peeking through the sharp scales on their forearms, as if the ink transferred directly through the shark skin.
Both vampires pushed their way through the melee until they stood with their backs to the Nuwisha, between them and the Dancers. They grinned, a baring of long teeth, and lashed their tails. Amalric didn't need to look at Gundhram to know how badly he wanted to attack the loathsome wolves, he could feel it in his blood. They were corrupted, evil, and though the two Gangrel weren't exactly on good terms with Gaia's Chosen, they didn't take kindly to anyone who was that corrupted spreading their evil. While others, Alessandro included, might have given warning, as far as Amalric was concerned, the animals that preceded them were the warning. He lashed out, grabbing a nearby Dancer in his clawed hands and bit the Garou's head clean off. The next, he backhanded, ripping stinking skin and muscle away from bone thanks to his sharp scales as the corrupted thing went flying. He could feel Gundhram's satisfaction as he, too, laid into the monsters.
When more cackling in the distance announced the arrival of more Dancers, both vampires merely grinned. This was going to be a good fight, after all.
Behind them, the Nuwisha stared, clearly unsure if they should intervene or not.