Meanwhile, in the Umbra...

Four purple-green clouds of gas flutter around the Umbra of the street near Charlie's Tavern.

Arlen shifts slowly into glabro, glaring at the nebulous banes. ~Think they're solid enough to deal with, Woody?~

Pete Barlow frowns as he too slides into glabro. ~Don't look like much more than the funked up farts to me. Kinda hard to manage," answers the big ahroun as he squats beside Arlen. ~Hard to say.~

The creatures seem to move forward and back over the same area, edging toward the Garou in the Realm slowly.

Arlen reaches back into her quiver, and feels the arrows vaguely. ~Mmmp. Let me see if throwing bane arrows'll do any good, first.~ Taking one out, she starts edging toward the nearest one.

Pete Barlow moves alongside his packmate. The movement of the unlikely pair seems oddly natural, comfortable, fit by experience and familiarity, each somehow at home in the Umbra.

The banelets hover for a while, then seem to notice something awry in their neighborhood. They spread themselves a little thinner, to cover more space, and move apart.

~Need a big sack, is what we need, or a jar,~ mumbles Barlow quietly.

Arlen stops short, and says, experimentally and quite firmly, *Solidify.*

Arlen pages to the room: That's a very lame sort of Command Spirit, there...

The nearest one quivers and contracts... away from the theurge, but definitely condensing. The other three start moving away, toward the shining beacon of the power plant.

Arlen, still holding the arrow, snaps, again, *Solidify,* and, as well, *Stay,* out towards the wandering ones.

Pete Barlow pages: From his experience as an umbral warrior, how would Pete size up these banes as foes just from their looks?
You paged Pete Barlow with 'Pete would probably bet that they're...mediocre opponents. Not much staying power, probably a nasty little first hit.'.
From afar, Pete Barlow nods. Thanks.

Pete Barlow stands up after dragging his clawed hands along the ground, the nails abnormally long even for a glabro, the precursor of his shift into crinos. *Yeah, you little shits! I gots somethin' for you.*

Pete Barlow contorts and blurs as he is transformed.
Pete Barlow shifts into Crinos form.

Two of the three retreating shudderingly remain in place. The third makes a break for it, coalescing and moving off at high speed. The two remaining do not condense.

Arlen glares daggers at the one retreating, but leaves the condensed-ish one to her partner, instead loping, as she shifts to crinos, over towards the two uncondensed ones. Once she gets close enough to aim at least vaguely well, she throws her arrow, rather like a javelin. Only much smaller.

Chugs leaps forward, one lope ahead of his packmate, as he moves at the Condensed One. Imagine, if you will, a cross between a professional wrestler and a defensive tackle and you have an image of Chugs's approach to the bane. Just before he hits the thing, the Gnawer ahroun crouches and bursts forward, rage speeding dual claw attacks from an abnormally strong garou.

The Condensed One falls apart in shreds, not even getting an instant to scream or make any other sort of protest. The bane arrow thunks through semi-solidly, and puffs of the banelet's body flutter away. The third decides that The Time Is Now, and explodes outward in a blast of poisonous vapors, driving itself up the noses and into the eyes of the two Fostern.

You paged the room with 'That would be two agg for the ahroun and three for the theurge, blinding you and blowing out your noses to various degrees.'.

Sassafras pages: And how close m'I to this?
You paged Sassafras with 'You're just emerging on the other side. You're as far back as it takes two crinos to lope across at attack speed, so you're out of range of the blast.'.
Sassafras pages: But I can see/hear/smell to some degree?
You paged Sassafras with 'Ohhhh. yeah.'.
You paged Sassafras with '*This* chemical stench hurts.'.

Chugs says, ~Ahh fuck me!~ growls Chugs as he writhes to his knees, muzzled head in his claws.~

From afar, Arlen is unclear, is the one I arrowed dead?
You paged Arlen with 'It is badly wounded and, apparently, transfixed to the nearest wall.'.

Sassafras blinks in to the area, catching sight, sound, and scent of the goings on ahead of her. Her eyes water and her nose burns, and she shifts upwards to Glabro, having shed the blades and helmet earlier. Summoning up strength of will, she narrows her gaze at the scene before her, as if trying to block the chemical cloud, and concentrates.

From afar, Sassafras would like to Create Element: Air, around herself as she heads towards it, trying to clear the 'air' around her?
From afar, Sassafras would like to extend that to them, too, but I'm sure that I'm not close 'nuff. :)
You paged Sassafras with 'Nope. :)'.

Arlen snarls, ~/Shit/,~ and falls to her knees, eyes pressed tightly closed.

The one that attacked takes this opportunity to try to make a "run" for the power plant. It moves, straining, and then breaks away, flittering at speed. The last cloud of toxic fumes hovers, transfixed by the bane arrow against the nearest wall. It struggles feebly to escape.

Chugs growls as he hunkers down on the ground. He reaches down to feel for dirt or garbage or something on the ground that he might use to wipe out his eyes.

Tears manage to drive most of the pain from Chugs' and Arlen's eyes after a few moments, and the dirt that Chugs scoops up actually helps to absorb a bit of the chemical. The noses of both are bleeding, but they can see, after a blurry fashion.

Arlen calls out, ~Chugs! Get the fuck over here, I can do the /Touch/ blind!~ She scrambles over towards where she thinks she might be able to see him, carefully.

Long distance to Sassafras: Piddles nods. The air helped.

~Now that just bites,~ grumbles Barlow with an angry snarl as he manages to get to his feet. He shambles his way to Arlen's side, grabbing her shoulder. ~Shoulda known that was gonna happen,~ he coughs out, bloody snot bubbling from his crinos nostrils.

Sassafras attempts to launch into a pursuit of the escaping Toxi-Thing, carefully trying ot avoid the cloud of nauseous nastyness.

Arlen leans into the Gnawer, and, sighing deeply, creates a small island of calm around herself, energies flowing into and through the big Ahroun.

The escaping toxic cloud zooms into the bounds of the power plant, a giant, oozing pile of Wyrminess unlike anything Sass has ever seen. Inside the bounds are hundreds, if not thousands, of shifting, sizzling, stinking shapes.

Sassafras slows to a sneaking gait, carefully Blurring. "Oh. My. God." she thinks to herself, careful not to give herself away anytime soon. Pale eyes try to take in the wretched sight, absorbing as much detail as possible, yet trying to stay aware of just when she has to Exit Stage: Anyway That Gets Out.

Arlen breaks from the Gnawer, still blinking muzzily. Peering at the impaled Bane, she asks, ~That still alive, Woody?~

Chugs nudges Arlen with his muzzle, as sincere a sign of gratitude as one ever sees from a crinos ahroun like Chugs. The massive Gnawer swings toward the baneling pinned by the arrow to the wall. ~Arlo, that one you stuck is still squirmin'. You wants me to do the honors?~

There is a general wave of motion toward the gate of the power plant, a massive structure ringed in sizzling electric motion, from inside the compound. Nothing specific comes into view, but a general feeling of malice emanates ahead of the Wyrm-ridden tsunami.

Arlen, still not quite able to tell specifics -- blurs! blurs everywhere! -- says, ~If it's solid, go for it. I got an arrow left, if it ain't.~

Chugs shakes his head as he approaches it, trying to determine what the situation is with the baneling.

It's solid, as far as that goes, and probably easy to shred.

You paged Sassafras with 'You are not in fact anywhere near the front door. I like you too much for that. :) You have merely attracted unwanted attention.'.
From afar, Sassafras okies. In the sense of Get the Hell Out NOW kind of unwanted attention?
From afar, Sassafras just wants to be a useful 'scout' at this point icly. She ain't looking to be a hero. :)
Long distance to Sassafras: Piddles nodsnods. Get the Hell Out Now. Yes, that would be it. You have had a very nice view of the mouth of hell. You're sure you see balefire in there too.

Chugs is a bit more cautious this time, less brazen so to speak, as evidenced by his more methodical approach. But when it comes right down to it, the Gnawer ahroun's claws snicker-snack the same way as he lets rage and the spirit of the fray play themselves out in his double-fisted, criss-cross attack.

Chugs pages: Rage, spirit of the fray (always on). If it looks like it'll burst too, Pete's ready to get his head turned away.

The banelet fragments at the onslaught from the big ahroun. No attack, just *pfft*.

Sassafras scrambles quickly, actually tripping over herself once in a very uncharacteristic manner. In a blur of skinny Gnawer, she makes her way back towards Arlen and Chugs, and this 'blur' is no gift, she's just /moving/ as fast as she can.

Chugs slides back down to glabro when the 'pfft' is gone, reaching up to gingerly withdraw the arrow. ~Trouble with the annoying banelings is that they pack a shitty first wallop sometimes.~

Arlen peers at the power plant, then at Sassafras. ~Guess we're out of here.~

Sassafras nods with /extreme/ energy at Arlen. "Uh-huhuhhuhuhhuh, bad bad bad... g-g-g-go NOW!" And with that, the Littlest Groo takes off like a Rat out of Hell.

Arlen follows behind, somewhat slower, still with blurs all around her.

The three of you make good your escape. Arlen and Chugs will have *very* sore sinuses and somewhat damaged eyes for a little while. You aren't really Tainted, but a Cleansing might make you feel better. Meanwhile, your sinuses are baked, and you'll smell of nasty solvents for a week. :)

Arlen pages to the room: Yum. I'm going Churchwards, Sass -- wanna come?
From afar, to the room, Sassafras nods. Sass needs to stammer incoherently at someone for a while, yep.

11/14/98