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Emitter: Nessa Du Valle
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Directly following the announcement that the world was not what they remembered, our heroes must fend off an attack by unsettling, twisted creatures. This takes place at the same time as 2019.01.19 - The Siege of Rowanwood: 3.
January 1st, Year Unknown; Midday
Rowanwood
Rowanwood House - Front Grounds[]
The manor itself is quite formal in style, yet it has a certain off-beat character and overtones of an almost Corinthian flavor. The grounds are enclosed by a wooded perimeter and feature well-manicured lawns and a small, formal rose garden. High bronze gates are wrought in a rose pattern and with the letter "R" formed in the center. A circular gravel drive encloses a small flower garden here in the front, a simple fountain located at its center. A vegetable garden, enclosed by high stone walls, stands on the west side of the house. A formal flower garden occupies the east side.
The house itself is tawny gold in color, consisting of a large, three-story central wing with a flat-topped roof and full front porch, supported by six Grecian columns. It expands into smaller, two-story extensions, one to each side. These each have two columns built into their façades, framing large picture windows on the first floor and smaller windows on the second, topped by gabled rooftops. The top of the porch doubles as a balcony for the third floor of the central wing, and the entire rooftop is dotted with small chimneys.
An extension wing has been added to the east side of the house, two stories tall, save for a square-based clock tower at the southeast corner. Easily four stories high, the tower features a columned belvedere with a silver dome, topped by a weathervane.
As soon as the group reaches the rear grounds, Nessa gestures ahead. "They will come from the woods, likely to the north. Whatever they are, hold them back! I will lend you what strength I can, but most of my energy will go to holding our defenses as intact as possible and preserving the wounded inside. Blessings upon you all--and my thanks!" She lifts her arms, then, and a besom broom shimmers into existence in one hand. She steps a foot onto it, wrapping the other around it, and then rises into the air, vanishing above as she lands on the roof. A moment later, a plume of light rises from the rooftop, and a shimmering dome becomes visible above the grounds.
And then the horde appears. There is no word for it but an army--vampires, werewolves, demons, humans, and other things, all twisted by--something. All horrifying to behold. And all, as one, crying out in twisted, broken voices as they break into a charge and make their way toward the house, brandishing weapons that range from naked fangs and claws to gleaming blades to, clearly, whatever they happened to find lying around that looked especially deadly...
Derek is quick to follow Nessa, looking to Stiles with the wordless appeal for him to protect himself. Then as he turns, his body changes, shifting, becoming something else entirely. An instant later, he's a huge wolf, majestic and mighty, baring his teeth and claws and rushing to meet their would-be invaders halfway. He roars, massive body crashing against the wave, huge paws slamming his portion of the strange army every which way.
Derek Hale phases to his direwolf form.
"You know, of all the freakin' times not to have--even a bat!" Stiles growls, hanging back a bit. He watches as Derek charges forward, looking around wildly, and then spots a shovel, leaning against the back of the house and apparently forgotten. Probably the gardener hasn't been in lately. So, he grabs the shovel, hefts it, and draws a deep breath. "Yeah," he grumbles, "I got a feeling this is really gonna suck. Give 'em hell, guys!" He'll, uh, hold the rear. Of the rear.
Aiden takes one look at the oncoming horde, then looks to Ethan and says, "Right. Seems kinda too familiar, somehow, doesn't it? Diving into a wave full of bad guys?" He flicks out his claws, shaking his head, and "wolfs out." It's not as impressive as Derek, mostly just giving him fangs, glowing eyes, and killer sideburns, but it's part of the gig. He lets out a roar, leaping forward, and charges into the fray. He keeps close to Derek, but not too close--visual contact--but sticks much closer to Ethan. As soon as he can, he lashes out with his claws, raking them towards the first attacker.
Ethan runs out with the others, keeping each of his packmates within view. He nods approvingly when Stiles chooses to hang back, then steps up beside his brother. "I hate Tuesdays," he grumbles through clenched teeth, as his features suddenly change, becoming a bit hairier and a lot scarier. Baring his fangs, eyes glowing bright blue, he too leaps forward, falling heavily on the nearest creature with both clawed hands.
Aiden Steiner phases to his wolfman form.
Ethan Steiner phases to his werewolf form.
"You're not getting into this place," Oz growls, aiming for the hor, He seems a bit nervous, but determined, and he concentrates, and instead of holding his wolf at bay, he now embraces it. He transforms, his form a lot more impressive than the twins', something more like Derek, a full wolf, but still obviously a werewolf, and he leaps in with a growl, tearing, biting, clawing, consuming the enemies, with pure rage.
Oz phases to his wolfman form.
Ryan wanders out toward the rear grounds and looks around at everybody. The fellow had somehow gotten lost in the house, and now he was watching a bunch of people looking all menacingly at a terrifying sort of army. "Oh," he murmurs, his azure eyes taking in the brunt of everything going on. He reaches into his pocket and takes out a bit of silken cord woven through crystal beads, then loops it around the fingers of both of his hands. His lips move, eyes half-lidded, and he begins to make deliberate, methodical motions of his fingers to pick up opposite lengths of the cord, much like a sort of Cat's Cradle. The air beside him grows dense and heavy with energy as a being, a sort of spirit, manifests at the fellow's side.
A sudden gust of air stirring up, and a distant ripple of thunder ripples over the forest. From somewhere deep in the woods comes a deep, and echoing growl. At the woodline Jason Christopher stands, breathing heavily. His black clothing, provided earlier in the day by Nessa, is torn and blood stained. He starts to walk forward torwards the battle, tearing away the remains of the shirt. His voice an agry snarl "I. WAS. SEMI! RETIRED!" His form flickers with each step forward. Man. WolfMan. ManWolf. Then with a blood curdling scream of rage he takes the form of The Beast. Loping forward, dedicated to the utter ruin of this enemy. Massive claws sweeping before him as he advances, eyes blazing red with the rage of The Beast.
Jason Christopher phases to his beast form.
Nessa remains out of sight, but as the thunder rolls in, some of that storm seems whipped up into a spiral over the center of the house, as though she were feeding off its strength, drawing greater power to defend the Vale against this incursion. Bolts of lightning leap into the sky and down again, as though some great exchange of power were underway, shoring up the perimeter.
Derek breaks through the initial charge only to be met by a chimera of sorts, a creature that looks like a cross between the remains of a lion, a giant lizard, and a pile of sharp metal scraps. It gives a hoarse, rusty scream and dives at Derek, trying to grind him between its various spinning, scraping bits.
Stiles finds himself beset by a sudden swarm of what look like giant zombie bees, only they have almost-human faces that whistle hatred through jagged, broken teeth.
Aiden and Ethan make swift headway against their part of the line, knocking down a whole row of smaller enemies, only to be faced by a towering thing that must have once been a cyclops. Now its wrists end in dozens of trailing lengths of barbed wire, and where its mouth should be there is a sucking void, as though it were slowly collapsing in on itself. It immediately whips the tendrils at each of them, trying to flay them alive.
A trio of blackened skeletons, looking like they were carved from pure pain, erupt from the ground around Oz, seeking to surround him and tear into him.
Ryan, for the moment, seems to be in the clear, but that likely cannot last long.
Jason, in the form of the Beast, makes one hell of an entrance, and a whole flank of the enemy takes notice. But it is not they who move to oppose him. Instead, what at first looks like a mist rises in the area around him. It soon proves to be not mist but thousands upon thousands of tiny, biting things with jaws that could, given time, chew through steel. They reek of congealed motor oil and rot. And they clearly want to make him their prey.
The huge wolf that is Derek Hale leaps out of the way of the first attack. He's sure those parts of the creature would hurt, and they might be poisonous or diseased. He won't let himself be taken so easily. But he doesn't stay at bay either. He's quick to leap and snap at it, testing it for now to see if it bleeds, or if that's a terrible and twisted thing too that he shouldn't do. He will have to investigate with his senses. That will be the best way to proceed, he decides.
Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. Stiles did not sign up for this Lovecrafty Silent Hill shit! As the buzzing whatever-they-are draw near, he lashes out wildly with the shovel, swatting one of them from the air, and realizes--hey, flyswatter! So, letting out a terrified bellow of a war cry, he starts doing just that, batting the damned things out of the air as fast he can and, occasionally, breaking into a panicked run to keep them from getting too close. But he's not losing yet!
Aiden Steiner and Ethan Steiner combine into their merged form.
Aiden finds himself shoulder to shoulder with Ethan, eyes darting around, and then he snarls out, "Hell with this! Ethan, let's do it!" He brings up a fist, knowing his brother will be able to undersand. When Ethan ducks down, Aiden plunges a fist into his back--it's kind of disturbing--but then they just melt together, rising as a massive wolfman with a seam down the center of his body. He lets out a gurgling roar, brandishing his claws, and charges the cyclops-thing, swinging immensely powerful arms to try to rip the thing to pieces!
Oz charges the skeleton in front of him, trying to knock him down and get away from the other 2, forcoing them to chase him together should they want to get him, which would mean he can turn around and take them all down at once.
Ryan is still deep in concentration, his fingers moving hither and thither with the silken cord, the air around him ripe with softly overlapping whispers. The large spirit continues to surround him, as if patrolling almost, prepared to protect the fellow as he makes an assessment of where he can be most useful. As the fellow's energy builds with the methodical movements of his fingers, his whispers carry his intent forward in a circle around him, a release of emotion to bolster the familiar sort of strangers engaging in battle, a gentle breeze that carries the inspiration of Courage to those so greatly in need. "Be brave," he murmurs, trembling fingers never faltering in the carrying motion of the cord in a weaving between his hands.
The Beast screams as it is enveloped by the fog of clawing, biting things. His regeneration healing him, as he is literally ripped apart by the cloud. Flesh and fur vanishing almost to the bone, only to then stitch back together almost as quickly. But rapid healing did not keep him from feeling it. Pain, and even greater rage born of that pain, fueling the hatred in it's glowing eyes. Once upon a time in this form, Jason's rationale mind would have been gone, he would have only been a beast. But those days came to and end with the end of Jason's father.
The wind rapidly picks up again, getting stronger. Gusting with potent upwards and downward drafts. Electrical arcs leaping through the cloud from the winds. Sparking like a plasma globe. The massive Beast, speaking in some gutteral language, talking to nature, to the very elements. Seeking to disperse the cloud so he can engage the rest of the enemy.
Jason Christopher could see Jacob Black was nowhere on the field of battle. No where to be seen or sensed in the viscinity. In Jason's mind that meant Jacob was likely facing things just like this, somewhere else on the property. After all he saw out /there/, out beyond the forest and the grounds. Out in the ruins of a razed world. Jason was going to get back to Jacob's side, over the dead bodies of anything between them.
Derek manages to catch a jagged but not too sharp piece of the creature, tearing a small hole in it--but even that small breach bleeds profusely, gushing with ichor that looks more like it came from a decaying machine than from anything alive. The smell is beyond rancid, beyond any real description. It is the kind of vile that simply should not be possible. The thing is obviously in pain, spasming from the bite, and rakes claws at Derek's nimble form, trying to return the wound it's taken.
Stiles buys himself time and manages to keep the flying things back, at least enough that he can keep clear of them. They go down, but they don't seem to die. If he can keep this up, he'll be okay--but how long can he really keep it up? Sometimes crawling, sometimes taking back to the air, they just don't stop coming.
The cyclops-thing mindlessly shambles toward Ethan and Aiden, hardly seeming to notice their merger. When they seem to ignore its flailing tendrils completely, it takes a new track, diving forward and trying to clamp that void of a mouth down onto their shoulder as if it just plans to burrow right into them.
Oz's maneuver works beautifully. He rushes past the one skeleton, now facing off against all three with some room to move. His first swipe knocks one of their arms off, which seems great--except that now the arm is skittering across the ground toward him, too.
Jason's sudden storm serves him well. The biting things don't disperse, but they break up enough for his keen senses to spot what must be their source. A thin, far too thin, creature that looks like little more than a pale bundle of reeds in the shape of some kind of scarecrow, wearing tatters and rags, stands beyond the swarm, making gestures of casting and command. Whatever the thing is, it seems to be what commands the tiny army.
For all the progress the heroes make, however, there is a pall--a palpable malaise that threatens to settle over them, a force of dread and despair that comes like a tide, carried with or, perhaps, carrying the horde. The force would be crushing to anyone with lesser will, but even to these defenders, it's a burden--until Ryan's spell is cast. Then, it's as though a light of renewed energy has flooded out among them. Weariness is refreshed, spirits are raised, and they find themselves suddenly filled not with dread but with hope, a sense of power and capability to face and defeat even these hideous foes!
Derek, fortunately, manages to avoid the cut, but he's still scraped and still struck. He rolls with the contact and gets to his feet, backing off to lick his superficial wounds and then get moving before the thing can have another chance to even the scales. There's a glance to Stiles. Okay, he's okay for the moment, so Derek can concentrate on his foe. The twins are strong, he thinks, they can do this. And Jason, surely, can manage.
But the malaise hits Derek like a truck, and even the alpha's determination stumbles for a moment. But a moment later, Ryan's spell defeats that, and the huge direwolf gives a nod and a bark in his direction. And he squares off again, opposite the thing. This time, he's intent to end the engagement.
Stiles, meanwhile, is so bolstered by Ryan's spell that he seems to hit a kind of crowning moment of pure indignation. Punctuating each flailing swing of the shovel with a word or two, he just lets loose with a rant. "What!" Clang! "The!" Clang! "Hell!" Clang! "Is up!" Clang! "With fucking!" Clang! "Around with!" Clang! "Other!" Clang! "People's!" Clang! "Realities!" Clang! Clang! Clang! Breathing heavily, he snarls, "Go shove yourselves up the ass you shat out of, you pieces of literal flying zombie crap!"
Oz is also bolstered by Ryan's spell. He literally shreds the arm of the skeleton with his teeth while attacking the full skeletons, trying to get at them with his jaws as well, to shred their bones into a fine powder that can't do anything.
Twinwolf lets out a piercing howl.
The twinwolf doesn't flinch at all. It drives forward into the cyclops-thing, and when it bites down on them, the big wolf just roars in outrage. It leans into the bite, shoving both powerful hands forward, trying to reach into the thing's chest, just tearing into it, and if the twins can find purchase, they'll dig in deep--then they'll bring both powerful arms apart, doing everything they can with their profound strength to just rip the monster completely in half, from the inside out. As they do so, they lout out a massive, echoing howl throughout the area!
The Beast screamed again, and nature listened once more. Pointing torwards and scarecrow like thing, lightning lanced down. Seeking to destroy the abomination, even while Jason was still suffering from the cloud. Jason's willpower was near unassailable, and yet the things he had seen out there. The torn bodies of- No! He tried putting it from his mind. Yet with that miasma, the sheer malaise. The images in his mind's eye were still there, even as the cloud continued to rip at him relentlessly.
Ryan's magic renews his strength like a shot of pure adrenaline. Clearing the images from his mind, and feeding his conviction to end this and get back to Jacob's side. With a wild shriek of rage he surges forward with hellish speed, claws outstretched for the scarecrow orchestrator of his pain and rage. Intent on ripping, tearing, and smashing it into just so much shattered kindling.
Derek's fearless attack, bolstered by Ryan's spell, gives him all he needs to surge forward through the thing's defenses. When they clash this time, Derek's jaws find a soft spot--well, soft enough--and he manages to tear out its throat... and what passes for its spine, out through its chest. By the time he's done, the thing is basically inside out, and with what might be a whimper, it just... fades, crumbling to ashes and dust. And Derek is surrounded by a group of much weaker, much more vulnerable-looking minions. If they had enough intellect left, they'd be terrified. As it is, they just charge at him mindlessly.
Stiles soon finds himself standing amidst a pile of dead insect-things. Sadly, they were a terrible audience and didn't at all appreciate his rant, but between his frenzied shovel-swatting and Ryan's magic, he's able to put them down for the count. Soon, just like Derek's foe, they're shriveling and crumbling away to nothing.
Oz finds that sometimes courage just plain pays off. The skeletons do slice into him, but they're made of something like obsidian, and they cut dangerously--and shatter easily. He'd be picking glass out of his hide and gums, but the skeletons, too, turn to dust after he shatters them. And he, too, is surrounded by minions that look suddenly oh so very weak by comparison.
The twinwolf takes a serious, deep bite to the shoulder that will probably need serious medical attention, but he also just dusts the cyclops. Ripping it in half and then some, the thing is ashes by the time it hits the ground. And the surrounding minions are as doomed as the rest.
The Beast that is Jason reaches the scarecrow, which seems as surprised as a spindly, expressionless thing possibly can. It starts to erupt in tendrils of hazy corruption, which lash out, as if trying to burrow into Jason and dig deep--but they never get the chance. Within his powerful claws, the thing just has no chance. Before the first tendril can reach Jason, the creature and its buzzing army are dust in the wind. And Jason also finds himself surrounded by minions that just beg to be ended.
The faint howl of a wolf echoes from somewhere in the distance.
Derek doesn't stop, doesn't even slow down. They charged, and he's entitled to defeat them completely. And defeat them he does, bashing them to dust and making sure to look around and see the others and how they are. Oz is up for this. Jason certainly doesn't need any help. Stiles has defended himself ably and is one hundred percent going to be fussed over later, when no one can see. But the twins may need help, and so Derek hurries over to render his assistance ending their menace with his huge, great paws and sharp, tearing teeth.
When a scant few minions draw near the house, Stiles lifts the shovel, bellows, and charges them, doing his best impression of Han Solo barreling down the corridors of the Death Star after stormtroopers. Unlike Han, this ends with Stile smashing through a few cultists, leaving them powderized around him. It's nowhere near as impressive as what the others are pulling off, but it's enough to make him raise the shovel in victory and bellow, "That's what you freaking get! Anyone else want a piece of this? I'll shovel all your asses!" It's one of the more nonsensical things he's said in a while. And he really doesn't care.
The twinwolf has slowed down a lot, thanks to that injury, but it's still powerful enough to smash through the minions around it, dusting them out of pure rage if nothing else. One arm seems a bit off, but with the other he swings wild and free, raking claws through anything that dares get close, and soon he's surrounded by nothing but tons and tons of ash and dust, which is good... because the twins really feel like they might fall over any second. The wound is not only deep and painful, it's clearly poisoned with... whatever these things are.
Oz goes crazy, tearing the minions around him to ash quickly, but he's still on guard, surely there must be something stronger, right? Maybe they're trying to distract everyone with weak enemies just to bring in the big guns to end them all? Whatever it is, Oz refuses to be surprised by it.
The Beast throws back it's head and roars in victory! The sound gradually becoming a blood chilling howl. With murder in it's glowing red eyes it levels it's gaze at the remaining enemies. Fingers and claws twitching spastically in preperation to tear the minions apart. If The Beast could be said to grin, it would be. It's tongue dragging across it's enormous fangs almost obscenely.
The Beast looks like it is very much ready to enjoy this. To take it's time tearing them apart. But then it's great shaggy head lifts as Jacob Black howls from nearby. The relief washing off of the monsterous form is almost palpable. Then with a gutteral growl, it launches into the remaining things like a jet black whirlwind of claws and fangs. Moving inexoriably in the direction of Jacob, and shredding everything within it's impressive arms reach as it goes.
The wavering dome of light over the grounds suddenly grows much stronger, and there's a sudden pulse of invisible force. Even the motes of dust and ash are blown swiftly away, vanishing from view, and just like that... all is still. The minions have been destroyed, their remains banished... and it's so very, very quiet. Except for the howling and Stiles' ranting, at least.
A few moments later, Nessa appears at the edge of the roof. She calls down, "Well done, everyone!" But she sounds so very, very tired. "We've turned them back... for now. I'll see you inside... shortly." But, instead of riding her broom down, she turns and makes her way slowly along the roof, presumably toward a door or other entrance. It seems that, right now, flying would just take too much out of her.
Derek hurries over to the twins, offering with gestures and small sounds to support them back to the house. He knows he hasn't come out of this without a scratch, and the twins have a much more urgent need than he does. He's just satisfied that Stiles hasn't been seriously injured, and he quickly glances over to him, beckoning him closer too with a motion of his fluffy, magnificent head. He licks his lips and makes a sort of chuff from his mouth, nudging the twins to come along with him, whether as the united figure or separately.
Jacob Black arrives from the southeast: East Garden.
Stiles throws down the shovel at the end of his victory rant, but then he sees Derek and the twins. He rushes over to help them inside, knowing there must be an infirmary or something set up... something. He won't hesitate to rush inside, hoping to find one of the witches and some healing magic, but he'll stick close to Derek and the twins until he's sure they're okay. He does look back, calling out to Ryan and Oz, as he wouldn't abandon them... the pack should stick together, and they have wounded. But that doesn't stop him from gently patting Derek's back and quipping, in spite of it all, "Nice work, Sourwolf... but you are so brushing your teeth before I kiss you again."
Aiden Steiner and Ethan Steiner split apart from their merged form.
Aiden and Ethan just sort of melt apart, Aiden having clearly taken the worst of the injury. He leans heavily on Derek and Stiles, and Ethan is also able to help support him, so they hurry inside along with the others. The twins have taken too much of a hit to be quippy or victorious... they're just clearly grateful to have come through it, both alive and still together.
Jacob Black phases to his human form.
Jason Christopher phases to his human form.
After the battle, Oz looks around, shifting back into human form. He's low on energy, but he rushes to help the others and stick with him. After all, the pack sticks together.
Oz phases to his human form.
A gigantic wolf with brownish fur comes loping into the area around then, glances around, and makes a beeline for the Beast. Halfway there, the wolf shifts, flowing easily into bipedal form, revealing the muscular, decidedly naked form of Jacob Black, sprinting up to meet his mate. He's apparently quite confident that his mate will respond in kind, because he doesn't even hesitate to leap at him and throw his arms around him, going for a full embrace before it's even clear that Jason will be shifting back yet. They're alive. They're together. That's all that seems to matter right now. Little things like full fro--well, just plain full--nudity and inappropriate public displays of affection? Not really a concern.
The Beast moves swiftly torwards the house, each step it grows smaller. Beast to ManWolf to WolfMan to man. Jason Christopher is still covered in angry little red blotches in several areas, all of which are easily noticeable given his state of undress, which is to say naked. They just don't make much clothing that stretches into size colossal Beast. But the welts at least are fading rapidly. As Jacob comes into view he throws his arms around him, yes they've practiced so the choreography is spot on. He kisses his mate and smiles faintly. "A werewolf lord has to keep his word, I told you I'd come back." Yet his words cover a certain sadness. He has seen many bodies this day, many he recognized.
As they move torwards the house, Jason Christopher looks at Derek and the fused form he is helping, which just melts apart before his eyes. He had no doubt Derek Hale would be fine, but the others look injured. He vaguely recalls them, through something of a fog, Aiden and Ethan. "Derek. Do they need help?" He glances at Stiles. "Stiles. Nice work with the shovel. Pretty soon you'll be using hockey sticks, and the world will tremble before you." He doesn't know Oz, but he is a werewolf, and so Jason nods to him, "Well done out here. You handled yourself well."
Derek dips his head in a nod, still in direwolf form. While the other pair may not be bashful, and while Derek himself isn't bashful at all, he has more strength as a massive wolf, so he's there to support Ethan and Aiden. The answer is yes, they do need help, and he intends to stay with them every moment until they get it. With Stiles as his side, he's sure it will be fine.
Though in response to Stiles being Stiles, Derek just snarls for a second, then huffs and trots along into the house, giving Stiles and the twins someone to lean on all the way up to the infirmary.