Encounterlogs
Ethans Odd Encounter Sr Luna
Ethan's lonely pursuit in the historic district of Haven leads to a grim discovery: a secretive gathering of werewolves in the forest, surrounding human victims laid out for what appears to be a morbid feast. Clad in his Templar gear and armed with silenced weaponry and specialized anti-shifter tools, Ethan witnesses the scene with silent disdain. Tension mounts as another werewolf approaches, noticing Ethan and signaling a potential confrontation amidst the sound of snapping twigs and the chilling wind of the night. As Ethan prepares to face the new threat, an eruption of violence within the werewolf group brings chaos, seeing them turn on the victims and each other in a frenzied bloodbath.
In the heat of the sudden chaos, the lone werewolf attacks Ethan. Despite a valiant effort and a missed shot with his pistol that could revert the creature to human form, Ethan is pressed against a tree by the powerful beast. A tactical blow to the wolf's nose gives Ethan a moment's reprieve, allowing him to deploy tear gas between them and ready his knife for close combat. The fight is viscous and the wolf is persistent, but Ethan's resilience and precise stabs finally end the assault as he lands a fatal blow. The remaining pack is gone, leaving Ethan with the corpse of the once feral creature, which reverts to human form upon death. Now, Ethan alone must process the aftermath of this harrowing encounter under the silent watch of the moon and trees.
(Ethan's odd encounter(SRLuna):SRLuna)
[Sat Dec 2 2023]
At an alley
Kept impeccably clean despite the alleyways found in the rest of Haven,
the alleys of the historic district are instead are eerily pristine. Little
gardens are fenced off by little white picket fences, with dark green
dumpsters that have only a faint sour smell when in close proximity to them.
Despite that, it's poorly lit, even in the daytime, casting most of this
space in shadow.
It is night, about 40F(4C) degrees, and the sky is covered by dark grey clouds. There is a waning gibbous moon.
(Your target stumbles upon a secret gathering of werewolves in the deep woods and must either escape unnoticed or convince them of their innocence.)
It is dark and late and a frigid wind snakes through the barren trees deep in the forest. A waning gibbous moon, just bright enough to illuminate the surroundings through the leafless canopy hangs overhead. Whether Ethan is stalking the woods on a hunt or has been tipped off to a gathering of wolves, he will eventually stumble upon a gruesome scene. In a small circular clearing, at least a dozen werewolves convene, the pack prowling around three bodies lain upon the earth. It is almost like some kind of feral ritual, the canines revolving with their ravenous gazes locked upon their soon-to-be feast. Chances are, the victims are human, and this is the work of some twisted Supernatural cult.
On a prowl of his own and with his silenced rifle and pistol in hand, Ethan keeps close to a nearby tree as the man occasionally spares a glance towards the proceedings with no small amount of disdain. The light is scarce, but it seems between that and the smell of twelve werewolves is enough to provide context to those who don't have the keenest of olfactory senses. Daring not to speak a word, Ethan seems to wordlessly appraise his surroundings and the look of disdain either suggests his feelings towards the gathering of werewolves, or more likely to what little he's able to do in this situation. No longer checking the pack of wolves, Ethan elects to inspect his own equipment and finds it at least marginally appropriate given the circumstances: neutralizer grenades, and a polymer handgun that is capable of bringing shifters out of their form.
*Snap*. A branch cracks somewhere near Ethan. None of the wolves in the clearing seem to notice, though the very air grows foreboding. A chill rushes through the trees, deep enough to cut to the bone. The bare boughs overhead clatter in the wind. *Snap*. Another branch, something is definitely slinking closer. Eventually, in the direction opposite the gathering, another large canine can be seen - perhaps a late straggler to the feast. As it spots Ethan its ears lay flat and the beast emits a low growl of warning. Ethan is in the way, and even shifted into the form of a wolf, the being knows just what they are up against: a Templar. Ethan can attempt to flee altogether into the night, avoiding the entirety of wolves, or square up one to one with this lone wolf and put his training to the test.
The sun-emblazoned mask is a clear giveaway to his opponent, and Ethan elects to allow that silent degree of intimidation to speak for itself. To add to it, Ethan draws a black polymer handgun from a side holster and keeps the electronic gadget fixed squarely upon the lone wolf. As Ethan holds it, there's a faint whining noise that escapes from the plastic, electronic gun, which could look very well like a regular old toy to anyone not familiar enough. Nonetheless, Ethan manages to keep it steady with one hand while the other keeps itself secured abut the butt of his rifle. Narrowed eyes from beneath that cold, dispassionate gas mask await for a sign of a move from the werewolf ahead of him.
Fluffy snowflakes begin to fall to the earth, gradually layering the ground with a sound-stifling cover. From behind Ethan, within the gathered pack, one of the wolves snarls and snaps its teeth ferociously - that is the beginning of absolute chaos. One wolf bites another while others race inward to dig into the still-warm corpses. The noises are downright terrifying as the wolves maul not only the victims but one another. Opposing groups, perhaps? Some strange game of survivor? Snapping bones and ripping flesh are the grotesque backdrop as Ethan aims for that lone wolf, who, spurred on by the commotion and taking advantage of the uproar, blurs through the trees as it descends upon the Templar.
The whirring of the pistol keens loudly amidst the backdrop of snarling wolves and that naturalizer pistol held in Ethan's hand fires its round at the werewolf as it makes its charge. Banking on the hope that the gadget will do its job on reverting the werewolf back into human form, Ethan braces for whatever impact that may come his way. Fortunately, he is at the very least wearing his gear, but the backdrop of snarling and tearing does distract him slightly. Still, it isn't enough to shift the man's focus away from the more present danger of the wolf charging towards him.
A subtle, ferric scent proliferates in the air, making the scene all that more sinister. Heavy panting, growing louder and louder, fills Ethan's ears as the wolf zig-zags between trees, moving much too fast to be natural. Nothing about any of this is natural, except for Ethan. The bullet from the electronic gun just nearly hits its target, bark exploding as it instead impacts with a tree. In the blink of an eye, the wolf leaps to close the short gap, and within the next second it is barreling its full weight into Ethan. It snaps its jaws ruthlessly, attempting to snag Ethan anywhere it can.
With a missed shot, Ethan scarcely has time to curse before the giant wolf barrels into the man, sending his back to collide against the surface of the nearby tree. While the man is adorned in armor, its still enough to smart him a bit and likely leave a bruise later. However, Ethan has greater concerns as the wolf continues to snap its jaws at him like a feral, hungry beast. Adrenaline and cortisol running through the man's body seem to drive Ethan's reflexes rather than training does in this instance. Fortunately, being pressed against the tree is an advantage for Ethan, keeping the man upright rather than at the disadvantageous position of being on the ground and pinned under the creature. Pulling a fist backwards, Ethan thrusts a fist straight towards the werewolf's nose, hoping to catch a blow on the beast's sensitive maw with the thermoplastic rubber that coats the knuckles of his tactical gloves.
Strangely, disturbingly, the horrific and chaotic sounds behind Ethan have died out. All that is left, or so it seems, is him and that lone wolf who brutally chomps at his mask and armor. With an accurate swing, Ethan's punch lands, and a spray of blood splatters the lenses of his gas mask. The wolf make a horrible whine of a noise as for a moment it is stunned, reeling from the blow. As it regains its senses, it only seems to have gotten more angry.
Finally given some space as Ethan's blow causes the creature to recoil, Ethan drops both his rifle and the depleted naturalizer to the ground and instead elects to reach for a grenade secured to his person while he still has some space between the two of you. Pulling the pin from said grenade, Ethan releases its handle and lobs it with an underhanded toss in between him and the werewolf. Satisfied as tear gas begins to flood its way out of the grenade in a puft of smoke, Ethan begins to chuckle knowingly as he draws a knife from the sheath on his shoulder. Bending at the knees, Ethan presses off the tree a bit and adopts a ready stance, likely assessing what impact the tear gas will have on the werewolf.
A thick smog of tear gas conceals the wolf's whereabouts. Has it retreated? Has it given up? There is a long stillness, or so it feels, the sensation unfamiliar and peculiar like Ethan might be the last man on earth. Any inklings of this notion are soon snuffed in the following moments as through the dense cloud, the wolf leaps yet again. This time it attacks from the side and not head on, its shadowy form crashing down with clawed forepaws catching the Templar. In close quarters once again, now would be the best time for hand to hand combat.
While Ethan is blindsided, the man is nonetheless poised to absorb the blow and react to it efficiently, likely thanks to his armor and subdermal implants to help cushion the blow. Nonetheless, a muffled grunt is heard as he tries to pivot on his back leg to help absorb the ferocity at which he is attacked by the beast. It doesn't take much for Ethan to know where his attacker is, and there's a hope in the man that the tear gas is doing enough to blind and weaken the creature that he's facing off against. Stabbing wildly with the GERBER pointed knife in his hands, Ethan goes for repeated stabbing motions with a single hand, hoping to catch something vital or pierce the hide of the werewolf.
Merciless and relentless, even as Ethan's blade repeatedly hits its mark, the wolf tears and rips at the man's form. Even if his armor is compromised, his natural toughness should help to mitigate some of the damage. More sanguine blood flecks upon Ethan and spatters the snow-covered ground, the beast's lifeforce slowly dwindling. Fighting with every ounce of strength left, it manages to wrap its maw around the Templar's throat, but one final stab or slash to a vital artery and everything goes black. The wolf topples over, lifeblood pooling around its form. Ethan may be partially trapped beneath the wolf, but once he frees himself, there is no sign of the original pack - just more blood and meager viscera strewn in the clearing.
Ethan does not stabbing, as adrenaline compels him to do it a few more times for good measure. "Fuck," Ethan mutters with heavy muffled breaths that escape from the twin filters of his gas mask. Using a mixture of his body strength and shifting his own weight, Ethan attempts to free himself from the wolf on top of him. With an assumption that he manages to do so, Ethan takes a few steps and spares a glance for the charnel house of a show over in the nearby clearing, nothing but gore, viscera, and corpses only scarcely illuminated by the moonlight aloft. The sight is enough to nearly want to make Ethan vomit, but he has greater concerns. Pulling his Sig Sauer Rattler from a side holster, Ethan flips the safety off and cocks the hammer before unloading a few subsonic rounds right into the pelt of his would-be aggressor, trying to guarantee that the beast is indeed kaput with an attempted round at the skull and a presumptive shot at where the beast's heart would be. "Should turn 'human'," Ethan murmurs with enough skepticism on that last word, keeping an eye on the werewolf.
If the wolf was not dead once it slumped over, it is certainly deceased now, riddled with stab wounds and bullets. There is a hideous cracking and creaking as the furred form reverts, its proportions shifting and shrinking back to what is recognizable as human. Now Ethan is truly alone, just him and this felled soul deep within Haven's woods. Will the murderous clan of wolves return to this site? Will they seek revenge for their slaughtered packmate? All questions are valid but uncertain, no one near but the moon overhead and the trees close by to assist with any answers.
In the heat of the sudden chaos, the lone werewolf attacks Ethan. Despite a valiant effort and a missed shot with his pistol that could revert the creature to human form, Ethan is pressed against a tree by the powerful beast. A tactical blow to the wolf's nose gives Ethan a moment's reprieve, allowing him to deploy tear gas between them and ready his knife for close combat. The fight is viscous and the wolf is persistent, but Ethan's resilience and precise stabs finally end the assault as he lands a fatal blow. The remaining pack is gone, leaving Ethan with the corpse of the once feral creature, which reverts to human form upon death. Now, Ethan alone must process the aftermath of this harrowing encounter under the silent watch of the moon and trees.
(Ethan's odd encounter(SRLuna):SRLuna)
[Sat Dec 2 2023]
At an alley
Kept impeccably clean despite the alleyways found in the rest of Haven,
the alleys of the historic district are instead are eerily pristine. Little
gardens are fenced off by little white picket fences, with dark green
dumpsters that have only a faint sour smell when in close proximity to them.
Despite that, it's poorly lit, even in the daytime, casting most of this
space in shadow.
It is night, about 40F(4C) degrees, and the sky is covered by dark grey clouds. There is a waning gibbous moon.
(Your target stumbles upon a secret gathering of werewolves in the deep woods and must either escape unnoticed or convince them of their innocence.)
It is dark and late and a frigid wind snakes through the barren trees deep in the forest. A waning gibbous moon, just bright enough to illuminate the surroundings through the leafless canopy hangs overhead. Whether Ethan is stalking the woods on a hunt or has been tipped off to a gathering of wolves, he will eventually stumble upon a gruesome scene. In a small circular clearing, at least a dozen werewolves convene, the pack prowling around three bodies lain upon the earth. It is almost like some kind of feral ritual, the canines revolving with their ravenous gazes locked upon their soon-to-be feast. Chances are, the victims are human, and this is the work of some twisted Supernatural cult.
On a prowl of his own and with his silenced rifle and pistol in hand, Ethan keeps close to a nearby tree as the man occasionally spares a glance towards the proceedings with no small amount of disdain. The light is scarce, but it seems between that and the smell of twelve werewolves is enough to provide context to those who don't have the keenest of olfactory senses. Daring not to speak a word, Ethan seems to wordlessly appraise his surroundings and the look of disdain either suggests his feelings towards the gathering of werewolves, or more likely to what little he's able to do in this situation. No longer checking the pack of wolves, Ethan elects to inspect his own equipment and finds it at least marginally appropriate given the circumstances: neutralizer grenades, and a polymer handgun that is capable of bringing shifters out of their form.
*Snap*. A branch cracks somewhere near Ethan. None of the wolves in the clearing seem to notice, though the very air grows foreboding. A chill rushes through the trees, deep enough to cut to the bone. The bare boughs overhead clatter in the wind. *Snap*. Another branch, something is definitely slinking closer. Eventually, in the direction opposite the gathering, another large canine can be seen - perhaps a late straggler to the feast. As it spots Ethan its ears lay flat and the beast emits a low growl of warning. Ethan is in the way, and even shifted into the form of a wolf, the being knows just what they are up against: a Templar. Ethan can attempt to flee altogether into the night, avoiding the entirety of wolves, or square up one to one with this lone wolf and put his training to the test.
The sun-emblazoned mask is a clear giveaway to his opponent, and Ethan elects to allow that silent degree of intimidation to speak for itself. To add to it, Ethan draws a black polymer handgun from a side holster and keeps the electronic gadget fixed squarely upon the lone wolf. As Ethan holds it, there's a faint whining noise that escapes from the plastic, electronic gun, which could look very well like a regular old toy to anyone not familiar enough. Nonetheless, Ethan manages to keep it steady with one hand while the other keeps itself secured abut the butt of his rifle. Narrowed eyes from beneath that cold, dispassionate gas mask await for a sign of a move from the werewolf ahead of him.
Fluffy snowflakes begin to fall to the earth, gradually layering the ground with a sound-stifling cover. From behind Ethan, within the gathered pack, one of the wolves snarls and snaps its teeth ferociously - that is the beginning of absolute chaos. One wolf bites another while others race inward to dig into the still-warm corpses. The noises are downright terrifying as the wolves maul not only the victims but one another. Opposing groups, perhaps? Some strange game of survivor? Snapping bones and ripping flesh are the grotesque backdrop as Ethan aims for that lone wolf, who, spurred on by the commotion and taking advantage of the uproar, blurs through the trees as it descends upon the Templar.
The whirring of the pistol keens loudly amidst the backdrop of snarling wolves and that naturalizer pistol held in Ethan's hand fires its round at the werewolf as it makes its charge. Banking on the hope that the gadget will do its job on reverting the werewolf back into human form, Ethan braces for whatever impact that may come his way. Fortunately, he is at the very least wearing his gear, but the backdrop of snarling and tearing does distract him slightly. Still, it isn't enough to shift the man's focus away from the more present danger of the wolf charging towards him.
A subtle, ferric scent proliferates in the air, making the scene all that more sinister. Heavy panting, growing louder and louder, fills Ethan's ears as the wolf zig-zags between trees, moving much too fast to be natural. Nothing about any of this is natural, except for Ethan. The bullet from the electronic gun just nearly hits its target, bark exploding as it instead impacts with a tree. In the blink of an eye, the wolf leaps to close the short gap, and within the next second it is barreling its full weight into Ethan. It snaps its jaws ruthlessly, attempting to snag Ethan anywhere it can.
With a missed shot, Ethan scarcely has time to curse before the giant wolf barrels into the man, sending his back to collide against the surface of the nearby tree. While the man is adorned in armor, its still enough to smart him a bit and likely leave a bruise later. However, Ethan has greater concerns as the wolf continues to snap its jaws at him like a feral, hungry beast. Adrenaline and cortisol running through the man's body seem to drive Ethan's reflexes rather than training does in this instance. Fortunately, being pressed against the tree is an advantage for Ethan, keeping the man upright rather than at the disadvantageous position of being on the ground and pinned under the creature. Pulling a fist backwards, Ethan thrusts a fist straight towards the werewolf's nose, hoping to catch a blow on the beast's sensitive maw with the thermoplastic rubber that coats the knuckles of his tactical gloves.
Strangely, disturbingly, the horrific and chaotic sounds behind Ethan have died out. All that is left, or so it seems, is him and that lone wolf who brutally chomps at his mask and armor. With an accurate swing, Ethan's punch lands, and a spray of blood splatters the lenses of his gas mask. The wolf make a horrible whine of a noise as for a moment it is stunned, reeling from the blow. As it regains its senses, it only seems to have gotten more angry.
Finally given some space as Ethan's blow causes the creature to recoil, Ethan drops both his rifle and the depleted naturalizer to the ground and instead elects to reach for a grenade secured to his person while he still has some space between the two of you. Pulling the pin from said grenade, Ethan releases its handle and lobs it with an underhanded toss in between him and the werewolf. Satisfied as tear gas begins to flood its way out of the grenade in a puft of smoke, Ethan begins to chuckle knowingly as he draws a knife from the sheath on his shoulder. Bending at the knees, Ethan presses off the tree a bit and adopts a ready stance, likely assessing what impact the tear gas will have on the werewolf.
A thick smog of tear gas conceals the wolf's whereabouts. Has it retreated? Has it given up? There is a long stillness, or so it feels, the sensation unfamiliar and peculiar like Ethan might be the last man on earth. Any inklings of this notion are soon snuffed in the following moments as through the dense cloud, the wolf leaps yet again. This time it attacks from the side and not head on, its shadowy form crashing down with clawed forepaws catching the Templar. In close quarters once again, now would be the best time for hand to hand combat.
While Ethan is blindsided, the man is nonetheless poised to absorb the blow and react to it efficiently, likely thanks to his armor and subdermal implants to help cushion the blow. Nonetheless, a muffled grunt is heard as he tries to pivot on his back leg to help absorb the ferocity at which he is attacked by the beast. It doesn't take much for Ethan to know where his attacker is, and there's a hope in the man that the tear gas is doing enough to blind and weaken the creature that he's facing off against. Stabbing wildly with the GERBER pointed knife in his hands, Ethan goes for repeated stabbing motions with a single hand, hoping to catch something vital or pierce the hide of the werewolf.
Merciless and relentless, even as Ethan's blade repeatedly hits its mark, the wolf tears and rips at the man's form. Even if his armor is compromised, his natural toughness should help to mitigate some of the damage. More sanguine blood flecks upon Ethan and spatters the snow-covered ground, the beast's lifeforce slowly dwindling. Fighting with every ounce of strength left, it manages to wrap its maw around the Templar's throat, but one final stab or slash to a vital artery and everything goes black. The wolf topples over, lifeblood pooling around its form. Ethan may be partially trapped beneath the wolf, but once he frees himself, there is no sign of the original pack - just more blood and meager viscera strewn in the clearing.
Ethan does not stabbing, as adrenaline compels him to do it a few more times for good measure. "Fuck," Ethan mutters with heavy muffled breaths that escape from the twin filters of his gas mask. Using a mixture of his body strength and shifting his own weight, Ethan attempts to free himself from the wolf on top of him. With an assumption that he manages to do so, Ethan takes a few steps and spares a glance for the charnel house of a show over in the nearby clearing, nothing but gore, viscera, and corpses only scarcely illuminated by the moonlight aloft. The sight is enough to nearly want to make Ethan vomit, but he has greater concerns. Pulling his Sig Sauer Rattler from a side holster, Ethan flips the safety off and cocks the hammer before unloading a few subsonic rounds right into the pelt of his would-be aggressor, trying to guarantee that the beast is indeed kaput with an attempted round at the skull and a presumptive shot at where the beast's heart would be. "Should turn 'human'," Ethan murmurs with enough skepticism on that last word, keeping an eye on the werewolf.
If the wolf was not dead once it slumped over, it is certainly deceased now, riddled with stab wounds and bullets. There is a hideous cracking and creaking as the furred form reverts, its proportions shifting and shrinking back to what is recognizable as human. Now Ethan is truly alone, just him and this felled soul deep within Haven's woods. Will the murderous clan of wolves return to this site? Will they seek revenge for their slaughtered packmate? All questions are valid but uncertain, no one near but the moon overhead and the trees close by to assist with any answers.