You could follow that smell, and the flies, to…to what? Whatever poisoned Clay, maybe. You start cautiously, following a huge droning fly…and immediately sink knee-deep into cold muck. You try twice more, but this marsh is a deadly maze, and the sun is setting. You're sure that if you could follow that rancid stink back to its source, you'd find what you came here for. But you need some kind of guide, or you'll die out here. You need more information. You turn away from the marsh and head back into the woods.
The woods are unexpectedly green here, trunks thick with crusts of pale lichen. The footing is treacherous and you're forced to move carefully around patches of freezing mud. As you pick your way around an icy bog, the air grows suddenly still.
You turn, but not quickly enough, and something slams you into a rotting tree, snapping your back. You spin end over end until you land in the mud, half paralyzed. Then your Rage rises and your flesh boils as you transform into—
—my ferocious glabro near-human form.
—the dreadful crinos war-form, mad with Rage and all but unstoppable.
—the titan-wolf form of the hispo.
Next
Your broken body rises, smoking, blood spilling from a hundred wounds as your flesh transforms. Your attacker rushes you, desperate to end this fight before the transformation is complete, but you're too quick: you twist, drop low, and slash with your sickle-claws, ripping into thick flesh the consistency of rotting wood. But your attacker ignores its heinous wounds and grabs you, lifting your massive bulk off the ground and pulling you into a bear hug. You bite and snarl, but your attacker won't let you go. You still can't even see the thing—only smell its caustic breath and feel its monstrous, leathery hide, like crocodile skin except burning hot.
I can't strike a killing blow trapped in this thing's arms: I use all my speed and skill to out-wrestle the monster and gain the upper hand.
This thing wants to test its strength against me? Fine. I grab hold and rip it apart.
I roar right in its face, terrifying my enemy with my ferocity and Rage.
I can't fight what I can't see. I twist out of my attacker's grip, then flee as quickly as I can.
Next
Your attacker is so big that its initial attack succeeded mostly through momentum. You twist, using the last of your metamorphosis to shift your momentum until your foe stumbles and partially loses its grip on your fur. Then you free one arm completely and slash the back of your attacker's knee, sending your foe crashing into the muck. You have the upper hand now, but you still can't see—you pause to shake mud from your eyes, and that's when the monster flees. It crashes through the woods, and though you pursue, its huge size means it quickly outpaces you. You force yourself to stop before you're lost in the woods.
Next
So you won…against what?
You never even saw what attacked you, though you can still smell hot leather and steel.
The next problem is that your shredded clothes are scattered all over the woods.
Working quickly, you return to homid form and salvage what you can. Your coat is fine, but you have to spend a few minutes mixing and matching until you can cover yourself fully. The sun has set and it's bitterly cold and windy by the time you reach the Veterans Hospital. You warm up in the garden center before the bus comes.
Still without shelter, you head back to the abandoned house, but then you spot a police SUV sitting with its lights off across the street. You fade back into the tangle of woods and fields that exist off the Map and hurry across town as the temperature drops until you reach a shipping container you noticed earlier. You repeat your trick with free newspapers and broken sticks. The fire this time gives off foul black smoke, and barely warms the metal container, but you're still able to get a few hours of sleep.
Freezing rain in the night: when you awaken in the morning, the world is frozen and sparkling. Shimmering little rills of melting water run past your tall boots. You can't stop shaking, even after a half-hour of moving around. This can't go on. You need shelter.
Next
Your first day of work that's more than orientation. Suddenly hungry, you remember the smell of sandwiches under plastic wrap at Gorsky Manor. And you ought to get to work. You hike up to the ancient and decrepit manor house, retrieve one of seven bowls of chicken soup destined for the addiction recovery ward, and check your task list on the break room whiteboard: snow clearing, spot checks for structural damage (as if this place isn't ready to fall down at any moment), and some minor repair work (you're no engineer, but all the heating and ventilation equipment you're expected to maintain comes with 1) instructions and 2) a number to call if anything requires professional expertise to fix).
You work your way through the checklist, shoveling, snowblowing, scraping, and performing other work that would exhaust most people. It's hard, it's cold, and it's sometimes boring, but honestly? You can do this sort of thing all day, especially if you get soup and sandwiches every day, and an envelope full of cash every two weeks.
Weird place, though; rancid vibes. You're careful never to approach the restricted areas of the facility.
I see if I can learn anything more about Harmonie Palys.
I head back to where that monster ambushed me and look for clues.
I need to find other Garou and make formal introductions.
I go to Banicki Gunworks.
Next
You head back into the woods, where you range over hills and down into valleys, looking for exactly where the ambush happened. Finally, you reach a tree that looks like a bus hit it.
This is it. You have to search for almost an hour, but you finally find something: some kind of tool. It looks like a small ice pick with a steel spike and a wooden handle. You stuff it into your coat, then spend a few minutes ranging around the woods, looking for tracks. But the frozen earth left no signs.
Undaunted, you return to town to learn more about the pick. The local hardware store can't identify it, but when you stop at a shoe store on Main Street, the clerk identifies it right away: it's a stitching awl, used in leatherwork. Your mind immediately goes to Jasper Heaney. Was this his?
That little trip didn't take too much time. You consider what to do next.
I see if I can learn anything more about Harmonie Palys.
I need to find other Garou and make formal introductions.
I go to Banicki Gunworks.
Next