The Death of Gabrielle

Coming through the bushes, almost tentative in her steps, a young woman of
some sixteen or seventeen years in age enters the light of the fire. Her
hair is waist-length and black with few highlights. As she quietly takes a
seat, first crossing her legs, then curling them to the side, as if to get
comfortable, the woman inhales and draws her shoulders back. "I heard you
exchanging stories and songs." She glances then at the cubs, lupus and
homid, clumped loosely together, some older than she and others still with
their milk-teeth. "Sometimes, when learning the litany and the ways, it can
be hard to understand why we keep them." She pauses, gathering her courage.
"I am a galliard, but a young one, with much to learn. Still, I think I may
have a story to inspire - Of one who so clearly believed that we *must*
combat the wyrm, even if the cost...." Tilting her head, the woman pokes a
the fire, and stirs the flames, so for an instant her shade of green eyes
reflect a heart-wrenching sadness. She sits back and continues in a softer
voice, "...Even if the cost is all." She glances at those elder than her in
the circle, ones who were lessoning the cubs. "The telling is not a long
one."

Maera then closes her eyes and begins to speak. "It was a grave time for
the Sept of Shining Springs. Weakened by constant battle with the Wyrm and
Screaming Rage. Things were swiftly moving to a crisis point. There came
then a messenger to Steelfang, Alpha of the Sept. This leader of the Black
Spiral Dancer's wished a meeting. And a meeting there was. The vile ones
wished a return of one called Bruce Long to their possession. He was under
protection of the Sept.

Screaming Rage told Steelfang that all must in this day be resolved.
Calling on a philodox for guidance, and in order to see that not all of
Gaia's garou in Austin would die that day at the hands of the wyrm tainted
ones, a contest was proposed and accepted. The Alphas and their followers
would meet in the garden of a Glasswalker place, there to fight to the
death, one fight at a time. The combatants of each fight would be chosen by
the Alphas, until all of one side was dead or gave way and departed the
city, caern and lands for always."

Maera opens her eyes then, but not to gaze about, only to look in the fire
as if watching the story play out before her. "The fights did progress, but
for each time the Sept was victorious, the Vile ones also prevailed, until
there were four dead on each side......."

Steel fang looked across the space of a circle, his eyes reluctantly
searching out one form among the carnage. She had already fought twice...
*twice* and defeated both opponents. this had given fire to the hope of all
her packmates. But now, Gabrielle was wounded, exhausted and vulnerable.

His head lowered, Steel crossed to where she sat, her eyes closed while
lines of pain were evident on her face. A young lupus remained silent at
Gabrielle's side, though she clearly acknowledged the arrival. The solemn
alpha exchanged a glance with Gabrielle's companion, then knelt slowly and
began to murmur, "I do not want to do this. I see no other way. You are the
best we have left." His eyes glanced up, looking for a reaction and then
Steel heaved a quiet sigh.

"I will die." She answered him in a moment's space. "You know I will die."
There was nothing of pleading in her tone, only a mere statement of fact,
even as it was a clear acceptance of his wish.

The black-furred lupus, Speaks-to-the-Birds, leaned forward, slightly, as
her ears twitched. The buzz of the vents above the arboretum, the sound of
other voices - Garou on one side of the clearing and Those who Danced the
Spiral on the other,  - all made it well and difficult to hear the Alpha's
response to the snowy-haired Gabrielle. Did she hear him say "I'm sorry."
or "I know.", or was it something else?

No matter. Gabrielle opened her eyes.  Mustering a wry smile of
understanding for Steelfang, the ahroun rose to meet the task laid before
her. Determination and strength of will were not *quite* enough to mask the
pain that some specific movements caused to her battered body. Like dogs
scenting the fox, for a moment all eyes belonging to the foes were trained
on Gabrielle to the exclusion of all else. To their minds and sight, this
was prey to be played with and then tossed aside.

As Steel backed up a pace to give her room, Gabrielle looked over to see
her next opponent. No nameless one this time. No, in some way an honor to
her skill. For, the imposing figure standing with Screaming Rage's hand
clasped on his shoulder was Abul, Beta to the Black Spiral Dancers of this
hive and he would be a challenge to any fresh, wound-free ahroun.

Wiping a hand across her brow and hefting her chosen weapon, the axe with
which she'd help defend the caern-builders in Kansas City and her home, the
Sept of Shining Springs, everyday, Gabrielle looked down to check the
leather grip and test the edge of the blade. Keen as at the day's
beginning, she ran a fingertip over the end and spilled a drop of blood to
mingle with that drawn from her enemies in the earlier contests.

Then, the white-haired Den Mother made eye contact with the few Garou
nearest her - Duncan ...her pack alpha, the Ragabash Electric who had also
won her death fight with a dancer this day, the galliard Lupus who sat back
on her haunches to gaze up and then Steelfang. There, a silence fell among
the Garou. Perhaps Duncan reached out his hand, but it was a fleeting
gesture. The expression in Steelfang's eyes was one of deepest sorrow and
growing frustration at the sense of helplessness falling like a web over
the battlesite.

Turning her back on friends and packmates, Gabrielle walked forward, past
the fallen bodies of Steals the Glory and mingled Garou from both sides.
Coming to the center, she assumed a patient stance, her gaze now only for
the foe, the one who would send her back to Gaia's breast.

With a sneer, Screaming Rage's choice strode forward, his attention looking
for weaknesses. Which side is she favoring? How long can she wield that axe
before the Black Fury will grow clumsy and weak? The artificial lighting
above reflects on the armor this Vile garou wears, taken from the fallen
Get of Fenris that served as Steelfang's Beta until the moment of his death
only a short contest earlier.

Laughing in the background, two of Screaming Rage's tribe exchange a loud
wager over the number of blows it will take to fell this ahroun. Even
lower, after looking over the remnant of those claiming to defend the Caern
of Healing - these two also lay wage as to how soon they will claim the
Sept of Shining Springs for the Wyrm.

The battle was not lengthy. Already, the two fights she'd won gave her five
battlescars in this day alone. Abul was brutal. He struck in order to cause
pain, draw out her suffering. He seemed to revel in the anguish some of
Gabrielle's packmates and septmates could not hide. To the lupus watching,
his eyes seemed to fix on Duncan, then Steelfang, with a taunting gleam and
cruel smile as he landed blow up on blow on the ahroun. Gabrielle's
strength faltered, her blows did not connect with her enemy and her guard
slipped. At this, Abul knocked her to the ground with a howl of triumph.
Forgetting his joy in tormenting the powerless garou watching, Abul fixed
his eyes on Gabrielle as she drew shallow breaths before stirring to push
herself up. He struck her again. As she lay atop the already blood soaked
ground, the Dancer's Beta crouched, an arm raised high, claws splayed. With
cobra's swiftness he raked his hand across her throat, then rose slowly,
standing triumphant over her empty shell.

Screaming Rage beckoned Abul back to his side, even as the low growls of
rage could be heard from more than one who followed Steelfang. One of the
betting Spiral Dancers stepped into the circle, stripping Gabrielle's body
of axe and other items of value. With an arched eyebrow, the leader of the
Wyrm's followers gestured almost regally to Steelfang as if to say "Who
shall be next?"

Maera stops then, in her narrative and starts to stand. All those about the
fire fall quiet, and indeed there are more standing about than when she
began the tale. She murmurs. "In truth, that is all that falls to my tale
of one who was willing to uphold the litany, even to the giving of her life
in it, like those other of her sept who fell. However, unlike them,
Gabrielle knew...*knew* entering the circle that she would not leave it
alive."

Her expression hidden in shadows, away from fire or moonlight, the woman
answers. "They lost that day. the next challenge was won, a Fianna proposed
a drinking contest." Before any can chuckle, she elaborates, "Drinking to
the death. Liquid Silver. This tied things again. But then, Screaming Rage
and Steelfang battled. Only one other witnessed the Sept Alpha's fall to
the Wyrm Follower and saw him taken away in the possession of Black Spiral
Dancers."

There is murmuring now, about the circle of Garou and kinfolk, as if most
know of that story. The younger cubs look scared and sad, as if expecting a
more traditional 'happy ending.' Then, Maera interjects, just before
changing form, to that of a black-furred wolfhound, "Still...the loss was
not a loss....For in time, his friends and followers ventured much danger
in the umbra and in a dancer's hive to rescue Steelfang.  He runs free and
with a new pack now. In this, be joyful, for the wyrm was dealt a blow and
we have reason to sing of triumph. Still, the story of his return is best
kept for a time other than a teaching night."

The Death Of Gabrielle Nightshine