Just sayin’.

At least that's what Games Workshop wants you to think of them.

As nifty as the Marines are, I consider them overhyped, oversaturated and frankly much less interesting than one specific other faction. Let’s think about the various factions that exist in WH40K and see a little bit of why.

We’ve got the eight foot tall musclebound bio-engineered supermen that wearing self-contained power armor (when they’re not idiotically going without helmets, of course) with shoulder plates bigger than a car’s tire and who have been subjected to indoctrination and hypnotic training (read: brainwashing) until they are psychotic, fanatically loyal killing machines basically incapable of feeling fear with a certain amount of warrior monk thrown in for flavor. Oh, and their standard sidearm is a sort-of miniaturized missile launcher that can fire on full auto. (Yes, the Space Marines.)

We’ve also got 7-8 foot tall musclebound bio-engineered fungus beings that literally exist only for warfare. (Orks)

Then there are the various-sized (ranging from microscopic to the size of a small moon) chitinous dinosaur/bug things that come from beyond the stars and exist only to eat planets (tyranids)

Then there are the robotic skeletons from before the dawn of time who exist only to serve ancient god-beings that exist in order to eat stars (Necrons)

The list goes on in that vein for a while.

you can also play this guy:

Yeah. This guy.

That’s right, in that crazy universe full of every flavor of superhuman and ultra-awesome monstrosity, you can also play: a guy with a rifle. Or, if you want to make it even better?

A bunch of convicts. With rifles.

Yeah. The biggest balls in the Warhammer universe have to belong to the Imperial Gaurdsman, just for showing up on the same battlefield with all of the rest of those horrifying things every day and telling them to get off his planet. With a rifle.

Bring it.

That’s a big part of why I love the Imperial Guard. There’s also the fact that these guys are the real defenders of humanity. Think about it: The Imperium consists of well over one million worlds. With approximately 1,000 chapters of space marines, at maybe 1,000 members apiece (and most are well below that figure thanks to attrition and a slow, painstaking and frequently fatal recruitment procedure), there are fewer than 1,000,000 space marines in the entire galaxy. That’s less than one for every planet that the Imperium controls. There are countless billions of Imperial Guardsmen. By the numbers alone, the Marines must of necessity make up much, much less than 1% of the Imperium’s total fighting force. No less a figure than Rogal Dorn (who was indisputably awesome) once said: “Give me one hundred Space Marines. Or failing that, give me a thousand other troops.” Yes, they’re hard core… but even at what Rogal calls a 10:1 value ratio, compared to the countless billions of the Imperial Guard, the Marines’ military power is at best a drop in the bucket.

Well, for most significant military engagements in the Imperium, it’s probable that a total of zero space Marines will be able to show up. That’s simple numbers and logistics. So the Guard and the Navy have to do the heavy lifting of keeping humanity and the Imperium alive, while the Marines have to settle for streaking in to the most critical and desperate situations where their individual superiority is most needed, and where they can maximize their impact if they expect to actually make any real difference at all. They’re a pinprick surgical-strike force, not a force that can wage sector-wide wars unaided.

The Guard and the Navy (as the Imperium’s regular military forces) can protect the Imperium without the highly elite Space Marines, but the reverse would be utterly impossible.

So yeah, another reason I love them: they do the real work, even if the insane monks in the gigantic armor are getting the glory. They’re the guys that are essential to the continued existence of the Imperium. They’re the guys that fight back the Orks, the Tau, the Tyranids and every other crazy faction. They’re the Imperial Guard.

*     *     *     *     *

Joseph Chases-the-Dream rejoined his pack after consulting with the mixed task force of mages, Garou and Kinfolk that had volunteered to strike at the witches beneath Cinder Cone and found his pack alpha Mingan Leaps-Like-cougar, the Wyrmfoe of the Sept of the Boiling Earth, addressing the several gathered packs. Joseph noted that a ways off from the group stood a tall, ragged bespectacled white man with close-cropped hair: Marcus Falcon’s-Resolve, who had been Ostracized. The other Garou present were ignoring his existence, neither welcoming nor forbidding him: he did not exist in their eyes, and Joseph blinded himself to the disgraced Silver Fang as well.

Mingan spoke: “We of the Warpath shall be the head of the arrow aimed at their hearts. Spear Dancers, follow immediately behind us, and the rearguard shall be the Black Wings,” Leaps instructed them as he reviewed the plan of attack. He gave each pack their assignments of which portions of Cinder Cone’s peak each was to sweep clear.

“The Wyrmbringers have numbers. They have high ground, and distance, and they are armed with silver ammunition,” Leaps stated gravely, “We must advance up a steep slope to fight them, and we have no cover other than what we ourselves can create. Also, there are Banes on the mountain that may materialize to join the fray, and the Umbra on the mountainsides is warded to impede an approach from that angle,” He paused a moment to let that sink in, but then he added, “That will not save them, for we are Garou, the fangs of the Great Mother. We are half of the strength of the Sept of the Boiling Earth, the children of mighty Tehama, the manitou of the volcanoes of these lands, and the mountain upon which our enemies stand belongs to him. We have the patronage of wise Uktena, of fearsome Wendigo and all of the other manitou that serve the Great Mother.

“Yet to defeat them we must be wise, fierce and cunning. There are Namebreakers on Prospect Peak that are calling the winds and the rain so that we may have some advantage in our approach, but that alone will not be enough,” he said, opening a hand to receive drops of the mild yet chilly drizzle that had begun and was progressing towards a proper rain. “We have a number of our Kin in position on Prospect Peak to provide us a measure of covering fire. Many of you are children of Older Brother and know the secrets of the spirits of night: just before we break the treeline, summon a shroud of darkness to blind the men along the volcano’s rim. Children of Younger Brother among you, call upon the Manitou to lash those men along the rim that can still see with still harsher winds from the depths of winter. Then, we make all speed up the path and strike them with all of our might. Run swiftly, and run as silently as you may until battle is joined. Now we put on wolf’s skin to wait for the strong rains and my signal.”

The assembled Garou shifted into their lupus form and collected within the cover of the edge of the tree line, watching the skies and waiting. Chases-the-Dream pawed the ground, eager to get to grips with the men that had killed Silent Medicine. Leaps-Like-Cougar looked to him and whuffed patience, and Chases became still. He wished success and safety to the ad hoc pack of Steve, High-and-Tight and Alexis that was set to accompany Amrita, Linda and the Namers into the bowels of the volcano. When he had broken company with her to return to his pack, Linda had given him a kiss that carried the promise of much more behind it should they both live through the day. He reminded himself not to dwell on such matters at that moment, for he would need his mind clear and his wits about him so that he could both fight effectively and properly observe and remember the actions of his fellows. If they came away victor, there would be many songs to be sung of that day, and he meant to be prepared to sing them.

 *     *     *     *     *

 The winds and the chilly rain grew in intensity, and Leaps-Like-Cougar signaled that it was time. As those Garou present that knew disruptive curses employed them against the HSL men above, his pack broke from cover. The Warpath dashed up the hiking trail with every ounce of supernatural speed that they could muster without the slower pack members falling behind: each knew instinctively the pace that each the others could keep, and adjusted their stride accordingly. Moving as one body, they coursed through rain and the sound of scattered gunfire from above, joined almost immediately by shots fired upon the shooters from across the valley. Somewhere behind them, they heard a Garou from one of the following packs yelp as silver bullets struck him on the flank. They wound their way around the path up the volcano’s side, drawing ever nearer to their prey. The pounding rain made the trail muddy and treacherous, but they were surefooted and low to the ground and had nowhere near the difficulty that a two-legged runner would have had. It was certainly easier for them to run this path than for the men up above to aim their weapons at the swift-moving shadows of the racing wolves in the minimal visibility that the foul weather afforded.

As they reached the top of the trail, Chases saw that a row of men where kneeling there waiting to rake them with gunfire. As automatic weaponry clattered and men shouted to their fellows to hold steady, the Warpath surged forward through the hail of bullets, snarling as one. Leaps-Like-Cougar surged ahead of his packmates and bounded into the center of the human line, shifting into Crinos form as he landed and lashing about himself with his claws. Wherever they passed, a man fell back screaming. Just behind the deadly Ahroun came Chases-the-Dream, who while less swift was actually larger and more muscular in build. The big Galliard followed up his pack leader’s example, pouncing on one of the men and shifting into Crinos as he struck, crushing the falling human’s head into the muck beneath his full  weight. Theodora swept in at his side laying about herself with her huge labrys, scattering the limbs of foemen in her wake, while beyond Leaps, Chases could see his small Ragabash packmate Laughs-Like-Coyote driving her spear clean through both a gunman’s arm and torso as the man tried to fire his weapon at her. All of them felt the bite of the silver that flew all about them, but they were intent on their work and had Rage to drive them forward for they had a fallen packmate to avenge.

The pack broke through that front rank of human gunmen and loped over to the left where there were more men trying to fire on the other packs of Garou that were still dashing up the trail. Though every member of the pack was bleeding, they tore into that band of mercenaries as fiercely as they had the last, buying the packs behind them more time to reach the first ragged group’s remnants and finish them off. Joseph seized a man’s head in his massive paws and heard a satisfying crack as he whipped the man by it to sail across open air over the rim of the cone. More of the wyrm-soldiers were coming, but the enemy was under fire from outside as well: the Kin across the valley were doing their jobs well.

That was when Leaps-Like-Cougar roared and collapsed, his body riddled with silver bullets, and Theodora in the next breath did the same. For the barest moment, Chases and Laughs stood alone in the rain, surrounded by enemy gunmen. However, before the bodies of their two fallen packmates could hit the ground, both drove themselves to their feet as their Rage overcame their injuries and carried them back into the fray, driving startled men before them. Both were consumed with a terrifying berserk frenzy that no pain or fear could impede from carrying on the fight.

Once again the Warpath descended on their enemies in the pounding rain, as the other packs nearby howled and engaged in fierce close-quarters fighting with the human killers. Lightning danced about them and struck several of the humans, the booming thunderclap deafening Chases for several moments and lending an eerie silence to the battle. He could see but not hear as Rain-of-Icicles, a Wendigo Ragabash from another pack, summoned a powerful icy wind that covered a foeman in frost and blew him off the edge of the cone to tumble head over heels down the slope. The humans, while well armed and equipped specifically to fight and kill Garou, had been robbed of their greatest advantages: distance and easy sighting lines. Had it been a clear day, perhaps a few of the Garou would have reached the top of the cone and then been shot to pieces. In the fierce winds, rain and other obstructions to their visibility, they had been reduced to fighting up close and personal with nine foot engines of destruction that could move many times as swiftly as they could.

The HSL men had two advantages left to them however: numbers and silver. Chases was reminded how very dangerous those advantages remained when his berserk pack alpha leaped into the midst of a squad of the men who gunned him down while he was occupied ripping one of them in half. The rest of the pack plunged in just after him and butchered them, but Mingan was already in his human form lying amidst the muddy, bloody heap of slain enemies. Chases could make out his weak breathing and tell that his mighty alpha was still alive. There was a respite for the briefest moment as all of the surviving enemies seemed to be occupied with other packs, but then the berserk Theodora continued her rampage in the direction of the back of the Black Wings.

Knowing that her frenzied mind could not distinguish anyone outside her own pack from an enemy, Chases called to Laughs to support him and leapt upon the dangerous Black Fury’s back, plowing into her with all of the force that he could muster. She lost her balance and fell face-first into the mud with Chases atop her and then the much smaller Laughs pounced as well, helping Chases to restrain her. The two of them pinned the wildly thrashing Philodox for several very long moments until her struggles finally ceased and she growled to them that it would be okay to let her up.

“… Where’s Leaps? And my axe?” Theodora inquired raggedly as Joseph helped her to her unsteady feet. She was still badly injured, and with the rush of Rage subsiding the burning pain of the silver bullets was catching up with her. She growled and invoked Gaia’s blessings to help her push through the agony, and rose to her full height again.

“He is down, and you dropped your axe somewhere over there in your Rage,” he replied. “We will tend to him soon as we can, but we must first see to it that the healers survive. Come,” Joseph said decisively and ran on all fours around the flank of the squad of men that were trying to fight off the Black Wings and barreled into them with his two remaining packmates just behind. Thunder crashed and lightning raged across the mountain again as they struck.

 *     *     *     *     *

 Though a swarm of Banes had indeed arrived in an attempt to turn the tide of battle, they had not been enough to stop the Garou packs from sweeping the mountaintop clear of the Wyrm’s minions. Several Garou had been killed in the fighting and nearly all had been wounded, but they had wiped the HSL men out completely and only a few of the Banes had managed to flee.

Joseph saw to it that a healer was advised of his fallen alpha’s condition and dispatched him along with Theodora to see to Mingan’s recovery. When she demurred, he locked eyes with her and reminded her that she herself was too badly injured to continue fighting until she should recover somewhat as well. After a moment, she nodded her head and assented. He then took Mary with him and trotted across the caldera, gathering a few more Garou who could be spared and advising the others to send word of their victory back to the sept, and that he was taking some warriors with him down to determine the fate of the group that had entered the tunnels and reinforce them should that be necessary. If the Bane’s binding was still in jeopardy, than however costly this battle would be rendered pointless.

Along his path, Joseph passed the place where Marcus’ body lay half-submerged in a pool of blood-fouled water. Despite having no support from anyone else, the Silver Fang warrior had fought with desperate fury and it had taken several Banes attacking at once to bring him down. One of the Garou present hauled the insensible warrior out of the muck and checked his pulse wordlessly, making sure that he would not drown before the incoming Kinfolk could reach him and render assistance. Until such time as his presence in their midst could be lawfully acknowledged, that was all that they could do for him.

With several Garou at his back, Joseph descended through the breach into the tunnels. Once out of the wet and rain, he carefully removed his bow from its oilcloth covering and strung it. He gestured to the others to follow his lead and set out through the tunnels with a nocked arrow going on before. Though the lava tubes branched out into a maze, the scents of blood, gunpowder and death would be easy enough to follow back to their source.

 * * * * *

Bill and Marco watched through the window as Solomon Wright bani Bonisagus performed a ritual that instantly transported the cabal of outsider mages and consors across many miles’ distance to the northeastern portion of Lassen National Park, and once the wave of magical force passed they looked to one another dubiously. Marco was a dark, heavily tattooed young man of mixed Hispanic and Native American ancestry with spiked hair, a ripped t-shirt and jeans that might have come out of an aerosol can. Bill was close to the same age but considerably taller, and was a lanky but reasonably fit man wearing rugged work pants and a cabled turtleneck sweater. His long brown hair was swept behind his ear for the moment but it was prone to falling free and obscuring parts of his face.

Marco was the first to break the seemingly endless silence, “Doesn’t feel right letting that bunch of strangers go off and fight our battles while we’re just staring at the walls, man.”

“Mom and I aren’t warriors… I haven’t even punched anybody since I was twelve. I can target shoot a little, but I loaned Dad’s and my hunting rifles to whatshisname… that guy that dresses like Humphrey Bogart,” Bill replied with a shrug. His face was troubled. Sitting this conflict out was an unwelcome idea that settled leaden and prickly in his stomach. He wanted to punish the psychopaths that had savaged his coven-mate.

“There’s got to be something’ we can do to help, man… I’m pretty new at all this so I’m not that good at magic yet, but I’ve got a few tricks…” Marco insisted, growing more agitated, “and I’ve got a glock in the glove compartment of White Feather’s truck out there. She’s got an old hunting rifle on a rack behind the seats too. Maybe we’re not gonna be loco enough to go kicking in doors and playing soldier… but I’m sure there’s something you can do.”

“All I really know anything about is growing apples and controlling the weather…,” Bill shrugged in frustration.

“That’s something,” Marco grinned with a wicked gleam in his eye. Bill caught that look and smiled grimly as well. Yes, there was something that he could do.

*     *     *     *     *

White Feather and Joyce stood back wiping at their brows after their combined efforts shifted poor Helen’s horribly injured and abused body from a comatose state into a healing, rejuvenatory sleep. There had been comparatively little metaphysical argument over the correct healing procedures, as the two women had both felt the urgency of their work override both their personal antipathy and the disagreements between their Paradigms: each had been far more willing to bend than they normally would have. The effort had left them both emotionally drained but finding some satisfaction in a job well done.

The two of them made their way back downstairs and found Bill and Marco avidly discussing possible ways for the two of them to help tip the scales in the conflict with the Fallen up at Lassen park. Joyce’s brows furrowed as she bustled down the stairs.

“Where is Ro? And what of the others?” Joyce inquired, though she knew that their absence could really only mean one thing. She hoped against hope that her instincts were wrong.

“Look outside,” was Bill’s simple reply.

White Feather made her way over to the window to look out, and Joyce was not far behind her. Solomon was out there alone standing in the middle of a ritual circle, his head tilted forward and touching the tip of his staff. He was murmuring sorcerous words, his Will focused elsewhere.

“What happened?” the older Dreamspeaker asked Marco.

“Oh, while you were up taking care of Helen those two consors got word that the wolves are fighting it out with some of the other side up in the park. They were real upset about it; I guess the blonde is friends with them or something…”

“She is Kinfolk, like myself,” White Feather said and gestured for him to continue as she took a seat next to her protege.

“Anyway, those two technomancers sat us all down and told us what was up. Ro volunteered to help, and then Solomon teleported them all up there … he’s still monitoring them now.”

“Ro went haring off to help a bunch of rabid pit bulls fight the Nephandi without even consulting me?,” Joyce said, aghast.

“Mom, there wasn’t really time,” Bill answered, “and you had enough on your plate.”

Marco spoke up next, “Bill and I were discussing asking Solomon to send us up there to help too.”

“What?” Joyce snarled and looked squarely at her son.

“I didn’t offer to go charging in to battle beside them. They’ve got a whole bunch of men armed with silver dug in at the top of Cinder Cone. The weather report says it might rain… and I thought I’d go up there and help it along, mess with those guys’ visibility so the wolves can get the drop on them.” Marco nodded vigorously along with Bill’s explanation.

White Feather quirked a brow and offered, “If you wish to go, I will gladly escort the two of you. My medicine may help keep you safe from being observed by the enemy.”

Joyce spoke with a grim, hard tone, her jaw muscles tight, “We McIntyres will gladly hunt down these Nephandi with you, or with this Nightwatcher fellow. However, we will not help the wolves. Let them bloody themselves fighting the Nephandi, and if any of the Fallen escape them then we can move in and finish the job. Those monsters murdered my husband.”

White Feather’s expression curdled and she shot back, “That wasn’t how it happened and you know it.”

“Shut up Grace,” Joyce snapped, “He’d still be alive if you could have kept your mouth shut about the beasts you’d been sleeping with.”

The native woman jumped to her feet, shouting, “I told Iron Eyes about them so he’d make friends with them! I didn’t make him go scheming to raid their Node for Quintessence with your husband and his idiot friends!”

Joyce’s eyes narrowed, her face turning red, and she growled, “They needed Tass and Quintessence so they could have a chance against the Technocracy.”

“The greedy morons snuck into one of the Garou’s holiest places to drain its power,” Grace replied coolly. “If some fool tried to steal the acorns from your sacred oak, you’d have treated them the same way and then you’d have bragged about it, you arrogant hypocrite.” The two women glared at one another, their old feud dragged back to the surface again despite their earlier cooperation.

“That’s it! Everybody chill,” Marco said loudly.

Bill followed hard on his heels: “Mom, Mrs. Sanchez… please drop it for now.” He was not accustomed to having to ask his fearsome mother to stand down, but it was what he felt he had to do. ” I miss Dad too, but these psychos raped and nearly killed Helen, and they’ll do worse to us if we can’t get them now. That’s what’s happening right now, not fifteen years ago. I’ve got the same grudge against the wolves you do, but the Nephandi are a whole lot worse. There are a lot more of the wolves out here than there are of us, and they’re our best bet of taking these guys down.”

*     *     *     *     *

A few minutes later, Joyce and Solomon were standing alone together in the grove. He was still in his ritual circle and Joyce  stood facing him.

“If you have sent my son or niece to die, let it be on your head forever,” she stated, her voice worried and angry.

“It was necessary that they go, madam,” the Hermetic magician replied tersely, a bit of sweat beading on his dark-skinned brow from intense concentration. “They are now in position, and I am tracking their position as well as your niece’s and her companions… I shall alert them of any danger that I can detect, and shall now return to endeavoring to pierce the wards that surround their objective.” This was a challenging task indeed, and it forced Solomon to admit within himself that things were getting very risky. “Mrs. McIntyre, your use of the Tass from this Node of yours shows that you have some facility with the Ars Potentiae, more vulgarly known as the Sphere of Prime. We are perched on a precipice, madame… I am certain that the Willworker that constructed those wards is potent indeed, and they they will have detected my attempts to pierce their defenses by now… their protections have reacted to my probings, and it cannot be long before they attempt to trace my magic back to this place. The wards that I placed here earlier should hold for some time, but I must ask that you use your Prime arts to prepare the most cunning parma magica that you can devise to shield us should the wards that are already in place fail. With the great many tasks that are demanding my attention, I do not know if I will be swift enough to react in time should they manage to strike out at us.”

Joyce took a deep breath and nodded. The old goat was right and she knew it. Now that they were only two, and he was involved in intense ritual magic, the two of them would be very vulnerable. She had to trust to her son’s good instincts and puissance, and to Ro’s cool head… and to Solomon’s, Nightwatcher’s and White Feather’s vigilance, to keep the two of them safe. Now it was up to her to see to it that Solomon and she could survive to protect her family. With a solemn nod, she drew her athame and pressed the point into the palm of her hand, beginning to walk deosil around the width of the grove dripping blood from her fingertips along her path and pausing at each of the cardinal points to invoke the blessing of the Goddess.

*     *     *     *     *

It was cold on the southern slopes of Prospect Peak, and the wind blew bitter at that elevation. From their position the three of them had a commanding view of the top of Cinder Cone below. Looking tiny as ants from this distance, men were congregated at the rims of the caldera, ready to mercilessly butcher anybody that tried to take the slopes to reach them.

“There’s no cover, and it’s really steep… even on those two hiking trails that lead up to the summit,” Marco pointed out. “If this doesn’t work, nobody could make it up there from the bottom.”

“Then it shall have to work, Marco,” White Feather replied and drew forth her medicine pouch. She began dancing, singing to invoke the Bird Mother to cloud the minds of men that the three mages on the mountainside might remain hidden from sight, and the sounds of their workings not be traced back to their position. She had a hunting rifle slung across her back, but she prayed that it would not come to having to use it even against trained killers. Marco sat crosslegged near Bill and checked the pistol at his waist before pulling a small drum out of his backpack and beginning to beat it in time to White Feather’s song.

Bill sniffed the air, feeling the rain and maybe even snow on the chilly winds. He set his face to the winds and felt the thrill of finding the promise of a storm there, though it was not coming soon enough by half. Well, that was why Bill was there anyhow: to harness that storm to the detriment of the men below. Low clouds, rain and stiff winds were in order.

“Up here in the mountains, if you don’t like the weather all you have to do is wait five minutes… ” Bill said to nobody in particular. He quickly cleared out a space and built a little fire with some sticks and tinder that he had brought for the purpose. Once his fire was lit and coaxed to life, he set a small iron cauldron that contained a special broth upon it. After a few moments of coaxing from his will, the broth heated to a boil and he spit into it thrice, then stirred it the same number of times. He smiled and looked towards the heavens.

“Storm’s brewing.”

I needed a character who would be a master artificer, weaponsmith and armorer, cunning in clockwork and the crafting of sundry engines of destruction. He was to be physically strong and imposing, and both renowned and fairly wealthy due to his mastery.

He needed to have been taken captive by one of the story’s major antagonists and put to work making those lovely death dealing devices at his captor’s bidding, including a special suit of armor. The idea lay fallow for years because LoA got put on the backburner. Then Alesia and I revived the LoA idea and started working on a collaborative writing project on the subject and I took him out of mothballs.

Not long before I had the discussion with Alesia, I made a cheesy little avatar of him, below:

• Animal Kinship (3) – Kami may take this power. The Kami has the ability to influence animals, seeming to be their friend and leader, though not exerting direct control over them. Animals view the Kami as a friend and leader, and they will aid the Kami however possible within reason. The character rolls Charisma + animal Ken, difficulty 6 (with modifiers appropriate to the character’s relationship with the particular animal). Garou in Lupus form can be influenced as well, but may resist with a Willpower roll. This power does not summon animals, only influence those that are already in the character’s presence.

• Child of Air (Earth, Fire or Water) (6) – Kami and Fomori may take this power. The character can summon and command elementals of one specific appropriate type, chosen at the time that this power is selected. The character spends one Gnosis and rolls Manipulation + Expression, difficulty 7. One elemental is summoned per success and the Kami can command a number of elementals equal to its Wits rating. It is rare for any character to be a child of more than one element, but there can be Kami that are children of combined or more esoteric elements: Children of Lava, Steam, Mud, Lightning and so on. Fomori can only be children of corrupted versions of the elements: Toxin, Sludge, Smog, Balefire and so on. Characters with this power will usually possess at least one other power relating to their chosen element.
• Gaia’s Summons (6) – Kami may take this power. The Kami has the power to summon some powerful force of Gaia, be it a Wyldling, one of the Great Beasts, or possibly even a certain group (breed, tribe or sept) of Garou. Those who are summoned will act in the best interest of the Kami. In many respects, this power is similar to the Lupus gift: Song of the Great Beast. System: The character spends one Gnosis point and rolls Charisma + Primal-Urge (Difficulty 9). The more successes are scored, the better the beast’s disposition towards the character upon arrival. A target that wishes to resist the summons may do so with a Willpower roll.
•  Strange Senses (1 or 3) – Any possessed character may take this power. The character possesses senses that cannot be described or understood to humans. These senses allow the character to sense things that others cannot, such as emotions, invisible things, or the spiritual signature of Wraiths. Pick any one strange sense for the character to have. For 1 point, activating the sense requires expenditure of a point of Gnosis and a Perception + appropriate ability roll. For 3 points, the strange sense is always active.
• Subtle Presence (1 to 5) – Any possessed character may take this power. The character is hard to keep up with and even harder to find.Those who casually observe the character forget that they saw it. Those actively looking for the character find the task difficult, time consuming and frustrating. This is equivalent to 1-5 points in the background: Arcane.
• Wyldkin (6) – Kami may take this power. The Kami is almost as closely associated with the Wyld as it is with Gaia. This power is equivalent to Child of Air (see page 3), but is used to summon Wyldlings instead of elementals. Also, the Kami may take the powers: Chaos Engine and Break Reality as if it was a Gorgon.

It had been a bit of a strange day for Joseph Chases-the-Dream, all told.

After putting together a Litany Q&A for Amrita and having to call that to a premature conclusion, he had been left alone with Linda, the attractive yet mousy Kin woman that had recently been adopted into the tribe even though she was a creepy white girl formerly associated with the Black Spiral Dancers.

He had gotten a fair few minutes with Linda, a chance to follow up on their rather brief phone conversation the prior night. Things were going well, or so he had thought. She had taken his offered hand and started walking with him, though she had paused to grab Steve’s coat and backpack off the ground. Joseph was enough of a gentleman that he took these extra burdens, and would have taken her own duffel too if she had been willing to let him. As they had started walking along the trail that led down to and around Tehama’s Dish, he had thought that yes, this was going to be a pretty good day after all.

She was an awkward, shy, nervous woman who didn’t have a whole lot in the way of social skills, but she did have a quick wit. Joseph actually appreciated that about her. Girls always seemed to think that they had to be so smooth and charming to get his attention. Her painfully nervous frankness about being attracted to him a few days prior even as he could tell that she was terrified was endearing.

Then the grass and bushes around them had started flailing and waving in what could be best described as panic, and Linda’s delicate fingers had tightened in his hand as she looked around for the source of this. Amrita’s desperate, panicked screams for Linda reached them at about that point, and upon looking up they saw her running down the trail from the Crater. Linda swore blackly and volubly.

“Um… Joseph.. Ah’m sorry baby… Ah gotta go…,” Linda had said to Joseph, after which she gave a meaningful and apologetic look towards Steve’s equipment that Joseph was carrying.  She then had leaned over, given him a peck and started running to her terrified friend.  Naturally, he had moved to follow. When she and Amrita said something about Taylorsville and then vanished into a nearby tree, Joseph had scratched his head, taken a quick look at the tree and gone to alert the elders to what had happened as well as an update on the Warpath’s status, and suggested that the elders have somebody check to see if they could find out what was going on in Taylorsville. Then he had handed Steve’s kit off to Jared and advised the lad to put it someplace safe until Steve should return. The HSL people having cleared a bunch of their staff out of their campsite had worried him too, and he’d already advised Burning-Mountain.

So there Joseph was a bit later, walking down the mountain a ways headed to get in touch with the Warder again and give another status report, on events both in the field and at the caern. He was worried about his pack, and had been listening to their chatter all along, filtering it for anything that he needed to know or advise the Warder of.

Then he caught something through his pack link that he had dreaded hearing, from Mary Laughs-Like-Coyote. He could feel the shock and surprise in her mental communication: I’ve been made! After that, he felt her scream of anguish.

Joseph’s back stiffened and horror rippled through the entire pack: Laughs! they cried nearly in unison.

Mary, as she fell, warned the others: Silver!

Mingan ordered the pack: Get her out of there. MOVE IT!

They felt Silent Medicine’s determined repetition of Mary’s name as he rushed in and bounded upon one of his Ragabash packmate’s attackers, and his own inaudible cries as numerous silver bullets pierced him.

Joseph’s Rage flowed through him and he shifted into the Lupus form, threw back his head and howled with all his might to alert the sept: The Warpath was under attack near Cinder Cone, and the ambushers were using silver. Burning-Mountain’s return howl granted Joseph’s request to go to his pack’s aid, and to take any Garou that could be spared from their duties and the defense of the Caern itself. Spirits were ordered to be sent to provide further intelligence and to contact and alert The Black Wings pack, which was known to be within two hour’s run to the south of the battle: perhaps they could not get there in time, but an enemy using silver had to be hit with every available resource.

Before long, The Call of the Wyld as issued by High-and-Tight, who had been placed in the field as a reserve and watcher along with a few others, had reached the sept as well: Gunfire at Cinder Cone. Two Garou down, the pack has recovered their fallen but forced into retreat, then pinned down. Situation very grave. Moving to provide support.

*     *     *     *     *

Having seen Steve react to his several howls and dashing past to render his assistance, Guillermo got moving as well, though at first he was shifted to Homid form because he needed to in order to signal his sister through comms. She acknowledged and got moving as well: she was at a halfway point between himself and the target point, and he would catch up with her. She’d have his guns ready for him when he got there too. One more thing before shifting: he used his satellite phone to place a call to Linda’s cell using his headset so he could run and breathlessly explain at the same time.

“Linda?  (huff) Your Namer friends might wanna know…. (puff) … there’s shooting… at Cinder Cone. (pant) Warpath’s hit hard (huff) silver. Steve and I (gasp) are heading in.” at which point he disconnected and threw the headset into his pocket before assuming wolfskin and taking off after Steve as fast as his four legs would allow.

• Break Reality (8) – Gorgons and certain very rare Fomori (those possessed by Dream Makers) may take this extremely rare, versatile and potent Power. This is essentially a much more potent version of Chaos Engine, removing two of the restrictions of that Power. First, changes made with Break Reality need not be small or subtle, for example the character could create a door in a wall, enabling them to pass through, though unless the character spends a point of Willpower to sustain them any significant changes to the environment will fade as soon as the character leaves the vicinity. Secondly, the character can maintain as many simultaneous changes to their immediate environment as they possess points of Willpower. With a successful Wits + Ability (whatever ability seems most relevant to the action in question) roll at a difficulty of the character’s Autonomy +2, the character can disrupt the reality of a substance, and thereby modify its form. The number of successes obtained determines how much change can be actually accomplished. A failure with this Power causes the spirit to lose a point of temporary Willpower. A botch on this roll is extremely harmful, and causes the character to lose a point of permanent Willpower. (What I’ll probably do with this one eventually is just append its cost and details to a modified writeup for Chaos Engine since it is really justan upgraded version.)

• Choke (5) – Fomori may take this power. By spending a Rage point, the character is capable of generating clouds of suffocating ash smoke or noxious gas. Anyone inhaling the cloud must make a Willpower roll, difficulty 8, or begin choking on it helplessly, unable to do more than roll on the ground or crawl from the area. The radius is initially 3 yards around the character, and the cloud will drift on the wind for three further turns before dissipating. Any creatures possessing Rage that are caught in the cloud for more than one turn must make a frenzy check.

• Create Wind (5) – Fomori, Gorgons or Kami may take this Power. The character must spend a Willpower point and a successful Stamina + Occult roll, the character can create wind effects. The difficulty varies – from 2 for a breeze to 10 for a tornado.

• Freeze (5) – Winter or ice aspected Fomori, Gorgons and Kami may take this Power. The character can lower the temperature drastically in the immediate area. The character spends a point of Rage, and cannot regain this point until after the current scene ends. Everyone in the area of effect to suffers the spirit’s current temporary Rage in dice of aggravated damage automatically. Using this Charm may have additional effects at the Storyteller’s discretion.

• Gateway (8) – Only those rare Fomori possessed by Wyrmhole Banes may take this Power. With this horrifying Power, the Fomor can pull Banes through the Gauntlet into the material world even if the Banes themselves  do not possess the Charm: Materialize or do not have sufficient Gnosis to penetrate the Gauntlet in the target area themselves. The Fomor rolls Gnosis at a difficulty of the local Gauntlet. A single success is sufficient to bring the targeted spirit into the material plane. At this point, the Bane is treated as if Materialized. The Fomor may spend a point of Gnosis in order to secure an automatic success. A botch in this roll raises the Gauntlet in the surrounding area by one as Weaver-spirits are alerted and reinforce it.

• Inferno (5) – Fire aspected Fomori, Gorgons and Kami may take this Power. The character can raise the temperature drastically in the immediate area. The character spends a point of Rage, and cannot regain this point until after the current scene ends. Everyone in the area of effect to suffers the spirit’s current temporary Rage in dice of aggravated damage automatically. Using this Charm may have additional effects at the Storyteller’s discretion.

• Sap Will (5) – Fomori may take this power. The character is capable of undermining a person’s resolve and determination. This power is usable across the Gauntlet. The character spends one Gnosis, and makes a resisted Gnosis roll versus the target’s Willpower; each success drains one temporary Willpower point. If the target is brought to zero Willpower, she becomes extremely suggestible, and will follow almost any suggestion just to find some direction in her life.

• Umbraquake (3) – All possessed types have access to this Power, which can only be used when inside the Umbra. The character can cause the Umbra to shake with such force that all those standing are thrown to the ground. The character spends a point of Rage and rolls Strength + Occult, the spiritual concussion inflicting one health level of bashing damage to everyone within the radius, rounded up.

• Warp Reality (10) – Only Fomori possessed by Nexus Crawlers, Dream Makers or similar Banes may take this Power. As a harbinger of raw entropy, the character may alter reality after a successful Willpower roll (difficulty 7). One success allows fairly minor alterations — it may create a hazy, blurry illusion, light a small fire, change an individual’s facial features, or drop the temperature in a small area.
With three successes, a Crawler can cause more drastic changes to the environments or specific targets. These changes include turning a stone floor into a viscous liquid, transforming any steel object into silver, changing a foe’s sweat into a corrosive acid, creating an illusion that affects any two senses or darkening an area completely. The Character may also hurl bolts of raw entropic energies that inflict three dice of aggravated damage. (Roll Wits + Occult to attack, and use normal ranged combat complications.)
If the Character gains five successes, it may cause truly spectacular effects. It can turn a person’s bones into swamp muck or rotten wood, change the air into carbon monoxide or mustard gas, remove a target’s entire face (and all sensory organs), or mismatch them in bizarre ways, create a full-sensory illusion or turn everything in a room-sized area into silver. Entropic bolts of this power level inflict six dice of aggravated damage.

Thoughts on more Charms from Book of the Wyrm, 2nd edition

Fomori possessed by the Banes found in the book of the Wyrm might have powers based on the Charms that their Banes have. Some examples that don’t call for a whole new Power entry follow:

Consume Essence: A character possessed by a Drattosi or other Bane with this Charm would probably use the existing Power: Spirit Rending for a rough equivalent. Perhaps we could add a stronger “tier” (8 points?) to Spirit Rending that allows it to be used against Garou and other non-spirit creatures with Gnosis like Consume Essence can be, and maybe yet a third tier (10?) allowing it to be applied along with an unarmed attack in the same manner as Consume Essence.

Illusory Desire: Here is another Drattosi specialty. Treat this as Succubus’ Veil, except that instead of entrancing the victims to be sexually attracted to the user, it creates an illusion of something else in the area to which the victim or victims are drawn. The mechanics are identical, except that the roll involved uses Manipulation + subterfuge instead of Appearance + Subterfuge. The point cost is the same.

I’ll probably go over Axis Mundi for the next installment in this series. I’m not sure if the series will really need any more entries once I’ve gone over that one, though I’ll do a skim-through as I keep working on my project of documenting all Charms from the Werewolf Books that might be relevant to Revised edition (IE excluding those from older editions that are superfluous or have been replaced with newer and cleaner versions).

Normally, All Kami are required to pay for all but their first five points of Powers with Taints (and their first five points are covered by their one default Geasa). Unlike Gorgons, Fomori and Drones, they lack any other means to pay for their Powers because they do not have the Autonomy characteristic. This tends to leave Kami weaker in both the long and short run than Fomori or Gorgons, because taking large numbers of Taints is crippling.

I’ve thought about this a lot, and discussed it with some of my system-tweaking compatriots, and I have what I think might very well be an answer that still leaves Kami weaker coming out of the starting gate than other Possessed types, but that does allow them a chance to at le ast try to keep pace in the long run, yet is still distinct from the systems that the other Possessed types use. No, I’m not just giving them an Autonomy stat, since doing so goes against the grain of what Kami are conceptually. Rather, I’m letting them still pay for their Powers with Taints, but letting them tap a different resource to pay for what they don’t feel that they can cover with Taints: experience points.

Unlike other Possessed types, Kami can spend XP to buy new Powers or upgrade their existing Powers. As a general rule, any time a Kami is buying a new Power with a rating of 2 or above, the Kami is required to pay for at last part of the Power cost with Taints. Any Power points not covered by the Taints selected must be paid for with experience points at a value of 5 x the remaining Power cost. So in effect, Apart from the Taints cost they always pay the equivalent of what Garou would pay for out-of-auspice Gifts. Of course the Power: Spirit Gift still adds one level to any Gift being purchased, so Gifts do cost Kami a bit more than they do Garou to make up for the fact that Kami can mitigate the expense by taking Taints. When upgrading an existing Power (say, adding another damage die to Hazardous Breath), no additional Taints are required though they are permissible.

Just as Fomori can optionally pay Autonomy to eliminate or weaken some of their Taints, Kami may be able to do the same thing with experience points at the Storyteller’s discretion, at the same rate (5 x Taint value) as they can buy new Powers. Note that no Kami can buy off their initial Geas. Also, the Storyteller is well within his rights to reject any requests to buy off Taints either outright or specifically restricting a character from removing certain Taints, or setting a certain minimum number of Taint points that a given character can work their way down towards.

*     *     *     *     *

Linda huddled in the ritual robe that Mapiya Sacred Hoop had been kind enough to drape over her thin, freezing shoulders and the moccasins that had been provided for her feet once the Rite of Adoption was completed. Sunset on a mountainside in springtime was no time to be standing around with nothing but some body paint between oneself and the elements. She took a few moments as the Garou cleaned up after their rite to rescue her abandoned overcoat and slip that across her shoulders like a cloak for a bit of extra warmth. One slender-fingered hand patted a pocket to reassure herself that Strago’s Device was still safely there. The thought of losing that thing while up at the Caern was  positively terrifying to her. Being surrounded by Garou was always one of her great dreads anyhow, but without the instrument that prevented them from working out that she had a Bane inside of her it was simply unthinkable. She desperately needed to keep it near enough that she was in range of its protection. As she did that, one of the Uktena Kinfolk picked up the rest of Linda’s discarded clothing and put it in her duffel bag for her. One of the other Uktena Kinfolk, she had to remind herself.

She touched the Garou glyph that represented her new tribe and which had been painted on her forehead. Another matching it was daubed on the back of each of her hands, and a third over her heart. Head, hands and heart: a sacred four. A band of black paint had been spread across her face around the eyes, with a band of ocher below that across her nose and down to her upper lip, and from her lower lip down to her upper neck she had been painted a rust red. Much of the rest of her had been painted or decorated with bars, patterns or glyphs in red, ocher, black or blue pigment. If not for her near-white hair and the bits of pale skin that were still uncovered, it might almost have been possible to mistake her for a real daughter of Uktena.

Her mind reeled. All her life, even after she had run away and turned against them, had been defined by the fact that she was Kin to the Black Spiral Dancers. There was no way that she would ever be able to entirely escape her own background of course, but that one defining trait of her identity was no longer valid. Her own corrupt ancestors had been rejected, her ties with Whippoorwill severed and she had been taken into the protective coils of Great Uktena instead. Though this was confusing, it also filled her with momentary elation.

As with nearly any other happiness in Linda’s life, this euphoria was not to last. Already the poison was creeping back in; Jez reminded her that it was still there, and that it made her unworthy of the honor that she had been given. Yes, she no longer belonged to Whippoorwill, but she still belonged to the Wyrm no matter how many oaths she swore to honor Uktena, Owl or Gaia, or even how sincere she was when she made those oaths. She felt very cold indeed, and that chill had nothing to do with the weather. It was the chill of being alone, unworthy and unwanted. She desperately felt the need to belong, and in the pit of her stomach she was sure that she did not.

Mapiya and Joseph Chases-the-Dream appeared at her side again, each of them taking her by one of her arms. She jumped at their touch, having been lost in her own misery, and still very skittish of any physical contact with any Garou anyhow.

“Jumpy, are we?” Joseph inquired with a good-humored smile on his ruggedly handsome face.

“Yeah, we are…,” Linda replied.

The two Garou led her to a campfire that had just been started in the assembly area. Most of the Garou that had been present for the audience with the Council of elders and the several Rites that followed that hearing had departed off to return to their various duties. The sept was still dealing with the ongoing cover-up of the recent scouring of Prospect Peak, as well as trying to hunt down those responsible for the rise of the artificial Blight that had been there. Yes, there was much that needed doing. Those few Garou that remained in the assembly area and a number of Kinfolk gathered around the fire for warmth and for companionship. Linda looked over each of those that gathered around the fire with her. Once the gathering began to form, Mapiya spoke softly with Joseph and he nodded in agreement before she turned her back and departed into the gathering night.

A few moments later, Joseph called the attention of the gathered Garou and Kin, raising his hands in the air, “Brothers and sisters! We have here two of our sept’s cubs that not yet earned Garou names and our newest Kin-sister.” Here he gestured towards a couple of teenagers present and to Linda. Linda looked around again, noting the guarded glances that she received from those about her. Yes, she was technically a member of their sept but she was not truly one of them. She supposed that the tall teenaged boy with the tattoos on his arm had to be Jared, the son of John Burning-Mountain. The other she did not know, but her understanding was that the girl was somehow related to the Wendigo Master of the Challenge. Joseph continued speaking after allowing a few moments of silence, “It is a time for the telling of tales, a relating of the Litany, and the sharing of the songs and dances of the People.”

Linda sat with the others and listened as tales were told of the mythology of the Garou and especially of the Pure Ones. Linda could tell that every tale told had a reason for being told at that time and that moment, though she could not always tell which or why. Some of the special vocabulary that the Garou at large and the Pure Ones in particular used was discussed and explained. Joseph, as the highest ranked Garou at the fire and the Songkeeper present, made a point of helping teach the words and tune of the songs that were to be sung, as well as the English interpretation since not all present were from the same native tribes.  The young white woman attempted to follow along as best she could with the singing, but she did not know the language and her difficulty with pronunciation only made her more shy and conscious of her own otherness. She decided that she could listen to the Songkeeper’s rich voice all night, however.

On Joseph’s orders, drums began to beat and flutes to play, and Linda was dragged up to her feet, leaving her coat on the ground though she made a point of keeping track of it. After some instruction, she began to haltingly dance along with the other Uktena and Wendigo present. It didn’t take her long to start getting the hang of it, for she was highly coordinated and had a good sense of rhythm at least, and that helped her feel a bit more at ease, more like a part of the group. Her bandaged ankle was throbbing, but she did her best to focus on letting the pain drive her to keep track of stepping and weaving properly. Pain was part of her identity, what she was. If there was anything that Linda knew, it was how to feed off her own pain and use it to remind herself that she was still alive.

As she danced and whirled painfully, her mind went over what she knew of Uktena. He was an ancient and wise water-spirit and both seeker and guardian of deep spiritual and magical mysteries. The element of water. Cups. Primordialism. The Queen on her throne. Linda caught herself gasping and had to correct her movements so as not to hazard one of the Wendigo Kinfolk, who glared at her and snarled something about the clumsy wasichu. She hastily apologized and got back in step.

After a bit of that, food was brought and Linda sat to rest her sore ankle and get a bite to eat while watching some of those present continue dancing and singing. She dug in with a will, eating but trying not to be too much of a pig, and making sure to let those higher in station than herself go first. As she ate, she surreptitiously snuck some of her meds out of her duffel bag and swallowed them. After having a quick bite, Joseph got back up and began singing again.

Linda’s gaze dwelt on the way that the moon gleamed in the tall Garou’s eyes. Yes, he was gorgeous. Whatever hate she felt towards the Garou at large was blunted a bit when looking at that handsome, talented and dangerously sexy Songkeeper. He moved like a powerful predator, and his smile had a razor edge. No, she did not feel safe around him or any other Garou… but she did not mind the danger so much, if he were the one menacing her.

After a time, she found herself sitting nearly alone at the fireside with Chases-the-Dream. Nearly everyone else had drifted off to sleep or towards other locations in the Bawn. She took the opportunity to get a bit more to eat, knowing that the portion that she had earlier would not sustain her.

“Your singing voice is pleasant, Linda. If you took a little vocal training and got  a bit more confident, you could be quite good,” Joseph told her, gazing at the way the fire backlit her profile. “You’re not bad for a sad white girl,” he chuckled.

“Ah’m sorry Ah’m so gloomy,” she murmured nervously. “It’s all so much ta take in, y’know? Yesterday Ah couldn’t dare dream Ah’d be a member’a a proper tribe. Didn’t never think mah cracker ___ would get accepted by no Uktena. Havin’ a rough time processin’ it. Trustin’ it,” she looked furtively back at him, a bit pained at the admission that she didn’t trust her new circumstances, especially since she did not want to alienate this man. Her large, striking blue-white eyes stood out sharply from the band of black facepaint that surrounded them as she looked him over nervously.

“I can understand that, Linda. I heard a bit of your story when the elders were questioning you. After your experiences, I would think that only a mad woman would easily trust now. Heavy burdens are more easily borne  by two than one, and I would gladly lighten your load,” he asked softly. She understood the question that he had not directly asked: he wanted her story. Despite the danger, his voice was so sultry yet so concerned that she could not dare resist him.

They sat together, Joseph easing her into telling of her own life, her painful and nearly hopeless dreams, and especially of her daughter. She was carefully guarded enough that she kept her own possessed condition hidden from him, but the simple fact that she was a deeply wounded woman could never be hid from the perceptive Galliard. He had to say very little to keep her talking, and he nodded encouragingly in silence as often as he actually asked further questions which was at least as effective as if he had. Joseph was paying attention to Linda, and showing sympathy and concern for her, and her body reacted so eagerly to his close proximity. How could she help but want to keep him listening?