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The War of the Black Forest
January 10, 2004

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It was a difficult time for the Fenrir. They  had disappeared and the Romans were about to conquer their land.  It was into the void of leadership that a great Fenrir hero, Get-of-Fenris-Slays-Grendel,  stepped--but it was not that time yet.

In the months to come, after he achieved his deed name by slaying the fell beast of the wyrm know as the Grendel, a new situation arose in which a Grand Moot was called to address.  Of course the wyrm used every infernal ploy to take advantage of this situation, but in the end not a single caern fell during this time. At the grand moot the many participants challenged each other in games of chance, riddles, and of course combat.  Get-of-Fenris-Slays-Grendel defeated all challengers and became the first Fold-Jarl--the Grand Elder of the world, or as much of it as mattered to the Fenrir.  It was after this, that he travelled to Schwarzwald--a place of power over which was built the Caern of Anvil Klaiven.  There, a group of human magicians--who called themselves Verbena used the secrets of kinfolk and Garou alike to hide their own evil secrets and steal power from our kind.  When Beowulf--for Beowulf was Get-of-Fenris-slays-Grendel's human name discovered this, he wasted no time but travelled to Germany and ordered them to leave.

Instead of heading his words they laughed in his face and tried to kill him using there defiled magics to manipulate the mothers own body.  Beowulf had gone alone, in a show of diplomacy and peace, and even he had not the might to face an entire tribe of the foul beings.  Flames rained down upon him, lightning split the trees before and behind in to flinders--for these Verbena cared nothing for the forest which they called their home, and were it not for their wyrm granted powers their own homes would have burned around them.  Yet Beowulf escaped and limped to the Anvil-Klaiven caern where he was treated for his wounds and regrouped.

He journeyed first to the caerns of the area and issued his call.  Each Warder spared him what he could, and with a few Fenrir here and a pack there and a few pups at another, he soon had a force that came to almost half of what the will workers could field.  Or what they had at the time--he had no chance to guage their strength, and knew that they too would call reinforcements for the coming battle, but what he had would be enough.  At each caern he spoke to the assembled, to kinfolk and to Garou alike, and he told them of the scourge that awaited them, should the Fenrir fail and the Verbena, emboldened and vengeful, decide to push their victory.  And each Garou was inflamed with bloodlust--one pack was formed for the purpose, a full score strong, of the pups and young ones who had ventured off with Beowulf, and called upon the very strength and fury of Fenris himself for their cause.

Get-of-Fenris-Slays-Grendel marched into the forest in all his glory and savagery and was ambushed.  The magicians had placed themselves within the woods upon his path, which led directly to where they had met before, and they launched themselves--some cast down lightnings from the sky again, while others moved with unnatural speed and strength as even their own bodies fell prey to their manipulations. Outnumbered by a force of nearly five to one, Beowulf and his warriors fought as the magicians broke like a wave upon the rocks of a beach.  As overwhelming numbers began to take their toll, the Vengeance of Manipulated Gaia pack took the field from the Umbra, where they had accompanied the rest of Beowulf's forces.

The tainted cowards who stood in the back, calling fire and lightning out of Gaia's body to hurl at the Fenrir were the first die in her name when bloodlust of the garou broke their concentration.  They raced through the forests like wildfire, and as the will workers surrounded Beowulf's force, the forces of Icehand split in two, smashing into those foolish enough to face Beowulf with all the fury Fenris can muster, at the front and then spreading out to the sides until it was the Fenrir who surrounded the will workers this time.  Many of them, using infernal magic’s defiled Gaia even further by warping their bodies in birds, some, even granting themselves the ability of flight.  On few of these cowards escaped however. The magicians were not the only ones who could attack from long range.  Perhaps a couple of dozen of them fell, or remained where they were, pinned to the trees by arrows that would have, in the hands of the magicians, made servicable spears.

Beowulf new this onslaught couldn't last for ever and while he wondered about this, Icehand took caution to new levels.  Even those will workers that were able to warp themselves into the shapes of wolves were unable to follow the packs he led, and often when they could the trails only led to ambush.  Had they been able to find the hidden packs of garou they might have won, they were one thousand strong and the garou were but fifty, but the Crinos shirt is a powerful one and the garou were able to send volleys of arrows as big as a mans wrist half a mile into the air to strike down their foes.  Thus it was that missiles would whistle through the air and sometimes strike the ground or sometimes strike a building or, with luck, sometimes strike a fire.  Meanwhile, Icehand scouted carefully, his Gifts and his skill allowing him even to sneak into their fortress, ripped from the mothers body herself, to learn every detail about how they lived.  And soon the day came when a trail was left, when more than a hundred of the strongest will workers pursued, and almost a score escaped the wrath of the Fenrir.

The twenty or so who escaped fled back to their stronghold, not even caring about the sacrifice of their friends, they celebrated as soon as they realized the Fenrir would not pursue. Icehand had convinced a spirit to listen to them, is that they announced that they had found where we were hiding, and that such a large force could not cover ~all~ of its tracks.  And they were right.  They left a skeleton crew behind to guard their unholy fortress, and raced out to where Beowulf's force had decimated them.  Like they expected, the Fenrir were no longer there.  Their tracks were too many to cover, though, and several used their magic's to take the shape of wolves and follow the trail of the Fenrir.  The tracks led away at a steady, swift pace, and the magi, many of them, became tired trying to keep up with the Long Run of the wolves.  Soon some of them began to lag behind, and they realized that if they did not come upon Beowulf and his packs soon they would have to give up pursuit.  And then, the tracks did not lead away.  Instead they circled, then pointed straight as an arrow to the magicians own stronghold.

It was now Beowulf who took command of the packs back from Icehand, for it was his time. Get-of-Fenris-Slays-Grendel lead the forces into the clearing where the fortress was held, and although they suffered a terrible wrath of arrows and greek fire they stormed the fortress with courage.  Rather than break down the door, Beowulf surrendered the lead to Hammer-head, a massive Forsetti.  There is a Gift among Forsetti that will cause a section of the very earth to rise up and come to his defense, and  Hammer-head used it, causing huge sections of the abused stone to rise up and aid him, and pull away from the wall.  Again, as fire and arrows and lightnings rained down upon him, and another section leapt out to allow them passage.  Again, and a young Modi by the name of Holder-Linen launched himself forward, the bolt of lightning that would have destroyed Hammer-head taking him full through the chest and leaving his body a smoking ruin.  His sacrifice saved the war-raid, and indeed, the entire Black Forest Twice, and then again, Hammer-head called upon the spirits of the earth to aid him, and twice and again they responded loyally, until a huge section was bitten out of the wall.  And then the Fenrir went to work.  With cries of greatest savagry and cheer, they launched themselves into the mass, first was a wave of the finest warriors, bearing the weapons of their tribe and their own claws, tearing to shreds the monstrosities that the Verbena had created or become to defend their stronghold.  Second were archers, nearly two dozen who could use the bow and the sling, each arrow and stone bringing down the magician's who had thought themselves safe high on the walls.  The battle was indeed fierce, and in a few minutes the forces of the Fenrir were victorious, packs of three or four moving to dispatch the few holdouts from the two hundred and more who had dared to face them.  Then stones were piled in front of the entrance they had made, and the archers manned the walls while the Godis went to work.

These Godis summoned spirits of the storm, for they had told them of the wretched things these will workers had done by pulling lighting from the body of Gaia.  They brought the spirits to righteous anger, and enlisted their aid with their own suffering, with bits of their own essence and their blood.  And the spirit's stayed, and waited alongside them.  Then, the sharp eyes of the Garou saw the magi return, distraught, broken and hungry.  This time, the Fenrir used the fortress of the magicians against them, as the Garou on the walls fired arrows and sling-stones into them.  The force whithered like fields of wheat before a strong wind, and those who still had the power for it contained within them launched lightnings of their own against the archers and the walls.

This was the moment for which the Godis had waited and indeed, seeing this abuse, the spirits of the storm could not have been held back any longer.  Bursts of lightning fell among the magicians with such urgency that it looked as through the skies were raining death instead of water.  Trees burst, but most of the destruction was confined to the clearing.  The stronger spirits were able to protect the fenrir from the uncontainable devastation made by the spirits of the storm. Those will workers, foolish enough to cast their own lighting at the fenrir soon found their bolts coming right back at them. It was then that the spirits unleashed a cold, chilling rain,  that soaked the fur of the Garou and caused the fire that the will workers cast to be extinguished, diminished to the point where the fenrir warriors brushed it off of them with ease.  They battered themselves against their own walls, torn to pieces by the lighting...  and then they saw a weakness.  The area of wall, piled stone pieces now, where the Fenrir had made their way in.

They tore at the pieces, their magics and their unnatural strength forcing the blocks away, and with shouts of glee they charged into the fortress, directly into the path of Beowulf and those of his packs and the Vengeance of Manipulated Gaia pack.  The flood of magicians was slow coming into the wall, then halted, and soon reversed as the garou displayed their awesome might.  They tore through, slicing away limbs and tearing out hearts, and the will of the attackers broke.  With more than half of their horde dead, they fled and left their dead and wounded comrades behind, chased by the lightning and for a few miles by the Garou, and following Icehand's advice, only a few pursued.

The Godis healed all they could, and those who didn't chase rested.  for two hours they slept, while the foul magicians fled as swiftly as their feet could carry them and then fell into an utter exhaustion of fear.  It was then that the fenrir pursued their prey. Well rested and healed it did not take them long to fall upon their unwilling foes  When they came to the camp, all was silent. That didn't last long though.  Those few gaurdians that remained awake were dispatched silently; those who slept never awoke. Those who were able to hear it before they died, died hearing an anthem of war as Beowulf, supported by six packs decended upon them like birds of prey. Those who fled were chased down and equally slaughtered. Of that fight, not a single magician survived. It was a good day.

It wasn't over though, not by a long shot. With pyres of the dead billowing black smoke into the sky the signal brought other garou from all over the region to Beowulf side until they outnumber their forces two hundred to one. In the next few months many battles ensued, but were small skirmishes compared to that which Beowulf first engaged. And, so it was, that the war of the Black Forest was one and the Caern of Anvil Klaiven was erected.

* * *

Told by Cassy ~Reeks of Fury~ Nix, Cliath, Galliard, Bone Gnawers

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