The prodigal philodox had made a strange request at the conclusion of the group’s discussion the night before. “If we are going to commit to trying things out the indian way, I feel that it should be done in earnest and fully experienced. I think having a sweat would help the pack.” All agreed to join in and fully participate.
The breezy early evening air was beginning to grow still. Dark foreboding storm-clouds loomed on the horizon. The few birds and woodland creatures scattered about and tweeted, likely in preparation for the coming weather.
Within the completed shelter that the pack had crafted with both muscle, garou ingenuity and some spiritual assistance, a fire burned. Five Garou, all in their homid form sat before the flames. As they settle in they notice surrounding the small fire in the middle of the room are symbols drawn in the ground and clawed into the supporting wall posts that don’t seem familiar or recognizable. The more perceptive of the pack smell burnt sage and bear root, mingled with scant hints of blood root that are easily overpowered by the scent of the cedar wood in the flames.
The philodox was seated, eyes closed facing them as they likewise enter and take a seat. Each pack member had agreed during the day leading up to the evening’s plans to do what they each felt would serve as their own personal cleansing. Mocks elected to remain sober, Rends had not hunted or killed, Zoe simply meditated, Eaton had bathed; Zas had gone on a quest to obtain what would be needed for the ceremony.
When the last of the pack had found their seat, still with his eyes closed, the Silent Strider began, his ears perking up. "In the language of the Natahay, what we are about to embark upon is called Inipi. It means to live again. An inipi will not change the past. It does not allow you to forget what has happened or what you have experienced. You must come to grips with those things as they are part of your story."
"This will however restore each of your spirits. It will give you the strength necessary to accept and face the future and bring about the clarity of mind needed to once again join your body with your spirit and be made whole. The poison that has taken root within this pack will be purged from our inner spirits, but to do this you must accept what has changed and find who you are once again." The Silent Strider confirms this with a firm nod.
He pauses, "There may be times when you'll feel you can't go on. If that is the case, you can leave at any time, but I encourage you to stay and breathe through the heat, inhale the cleansing smoke deeply. The more heat you feel, the more spirit poison you are burning away."
He opens his eyes looking to each person before him slowly as he says, “Trust in the spirits guidance. Trust in each other. Trust in me.”
Without further word, pomp or flair, the Apache then leaned forwards, tossing some assorted handful of what seemed to be a ground up powder and began chanting in a foreign tongue. The pack Galliard could make out some of the words. Apache spells and prayers blended with wolf and spirit tongue, but most of it was unintelligible. Pounding slowly but constantly on a drum Eaton helped fashion out of a rock, the native garou did not break his concentration or focus. As he continued, a strange thick purple-tinted Smoke began to rise from the center fire filling the room; It grew to block out all other light save the fire’s glow. As the smoke filled the area, the heat from the fire grew more intense.
Some of the pack grew a little uneasy about this but they did not interrupt or leave, but beads of sweat quickly formed and began to drip down their faces. The flames of the fire cavorted and twisted causing the fire casted shadows to bend in unnatural ways through the smoky dimly lit space before both they and the pack philodox were lost into the thickening smoke cloud. The only sign that he remained in the room was his persistent drum beat and voice which other than the crackling of the logs in the flame was all that could be heard as even the night birds chirping outside the structure were drowned out.
Other than that however, nothing happened. Time drew long as the heat of the fire ever continued to rise to more and more uncomfortable, nigh unbearable levels. Sweat pouring down their heads. The thick smoke likewise continued to billow, making even drawing simple shallow breaths both extremely taxing and strained. When the pack had all but decided that they were just going to bail as nothing seemed to be working and the temperature was too much however, the ongoing words and primal chants in the foreign tongue; the rhythmic drum beat... started to fade; it was at this point that everyone also starts to perceive subtle changes.
Little more than wisps or movements at the edges of their vision at first, but the more the heat and smoke flooded the senses and filled the lungs, the more clear and distinct the shapes started to become. It noticeably grows even harder to breathe with each passing minute, until suddenly each of the pack found they could breathe perfectly fine. Zoe however pointed out nearly panicking, that they no longer found it hard to breathe because they themselves were not breathing.
The shapes once blurry now took form into a grim sight. All around them were graves. It was the largest graveyard any of the pack had ever seen and it seemed to stretch on indefinitely. No grave marker was alike but what was even more immediately noticeable is that they all seemed to bear native american markings.
The pack did not have time to discuss this as directly in front of them stood an impressively towering, dark, thick, furred shape that only continued to grow in both size and muscle as the pack’s collective eyesight grew more acute. It readily became clear that the figure before them was a powerful and terrifying grizzly bear spirit. It let out a low earth rumbling growl that rattled the packs bones. In each pack member’s head a deep guttural voice could be heard. “You lost cubs have wandered far from the vision of the mother. Come return and be lost no more.”
Rends first instinct at seeing the bear in the bizarre enviornment was to reach for his war club but upon hearing the words in his head his movements went still. The bear took a step forwards and sniffed him once. Rends instantly disappeared from the sight of the rest of the pack. Eaton somewhat startled by this raised a finger to question the creature before he too was sniffed and removed. Mocks and Zoe then each turned to one another, Zoe shrugging her shoulders. Mocks took a long look at the creature, trying to size it up before the bear stepped towards him and placed a paw on his head and he too disappeared. The creature then turned to look at the lone theurge. Zas voice echoed in the Iron Rider’s head, “Trust in the spirits.”
Zoe then seemed to relax and the bear let out another softer growl before both Zoe and the creature vanished.
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(I will post the second part in a separate post. If you want for your character to interact with the spirit, or have a post of your character finding yourself-feel free to do as you please. It will not change the second part. But if you don’t want to do this, that’s fine. Just skip ahead to the other post.)
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