Here is another interlude that takes place shortly a few minutes after my recent post about Guillermo, but this time following the stealthy Kinfolk ritualist and secret Fomor named Linda Lee. I rolled for the results of the rite and other actions performed here a couple of days ago before I began writing this post, and then incorporated the results of the dice into the narrative.
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As the others rushed up the hill towards the Blight, Linda had some unfinished business to attend to. The Banes had assaulted them, and one had given her a wound. Revenge for this insult would not be furloughed or delayed as the Garou seemed content to allow for the moment. They were needed to confront still more Banes elsewhere on the mountain, she agreed, but she herself was not, and she wanted to make sure that there was no chance of further trouble from the defeated spirits. She made as if to follow her compatriots, but the moment Marcus looked away she slipped behind a tree near to where the others had fought the Blight Children and slipped across the Gauntlet. Searing pain riddled her body as she crossed the barrier between worlds, as it always did; the Gauntlet was exceedingly well named, and though she relished her ability to enter the Umbra, the transition itself was something that she always dreaded.
Further up the mountainside, she could hear the howls and snarls of the pack of Garou strangers charging at the nest of Banes occupying the Blight above. Good. They would be occupied for a while.
She paused for just a moment, hugging herself and allowing the agony to subside as she looked about for the fallen Banes. Just nearby floated the Slumbering forms of the Blight Children. They would pay, though she needed to allow one’s existence to continue just a little longer. Her body shuddered as her fingers sprouted horrific black talons and a multi-jointed, spidery second pair of arms burst out of her back to snake their way out from under her overcoat. It would not do to be caught unprepared, should there be further Banes coming her way while she was working.
The thin woman approached the closer of the two corrupt tree-spirits and looked it over with disgust yet fascination. She desired keenly that it would feel what she was about to do to it. With a swift yet sure motion, she dug her steely black talons into its bark and peeled a strip away. That would do. The Bane would have to live long enough for her to complete her task downslope or this bark would fade from existence. The other was already expendable; she plunged her secondary claws into its vulnerable form and tore the Bane apart, feasting on its essence to strengthen herself for the task ahead of her and destroying the spirit utterly.
Upon her arrival down the hill a little ways where the four Scrags slumbered, Linda paused to tear the bit of bark into a couple of roughly equal segments. The Scrags’ gruesome, ghoulish, gore-spattered green forms looked almost pitiably vulnerable, and so they were. She sighed a bit, wishing that she had sufficient time to really do this properly, but she dared not be caught here in the Umbra by those Garou. Still, she was going to have to waste some potentially valuable resources here with the inefficient, hasty way that she was going to have to do this, and that rankled her a bit.
She turned the bits of bark over in her hand and carved a couple of simple glyphs on each with her claws while intoning a low, atonal chant. The talismans prepared, she stepped into the midst of the hovering unconscious Banes and grinned maliciously.
“All’a y’all may be servants’a Bashkaai, but y’all’re gon’ be mah b____es now,” she gloated for a moment before getting back to work. Moving in a slow and flowing dance around the first of her victims, she whispered words of power in the language of her ancestors while gripping one of her bark talismans in a wickedly clawed hand. The Bane twisted, writhed and whined as it flowed into the runes on the talisman, vanishing from the Umbra but imbuing the runes for a moment with a hellish green light.
“Gotcha,” she gasped, feeling spiritually drained by the effort of so hastily binding the spirit into the glyph. Little matter, for there were three more here to go. With a jerking motion, she ripped out the second Scrag’s throat and drank in its essence, sending the Bane fading into oblivion and restoring her own power.
Again she performed her binding ritual and trapped a second Bane in a glyph-shaped prison. Deciding that she was out of time, she abandoned the idea of trying to bind yet a third and simply consumed the last Scrag before hurrying back up to where she could finish off the remaining Blight Child and flee back into the material world with her newly crafted talismans still in hand.