Keepers of Bean Sidhe
These garou are loud mouth, short tempered garou of the Fianna Tribe. They follow and serve their totem Banshee with blind dedication.
This pack consists of:
Alpha: Rain "Feeder of Crows" Gryffith
Beta: Grumpy Jack "Balor's Fury" O'Keelen
Michael "Fortells Of Blood" Robinson
Jason Finn "Weights the Lament"
Aiblin "Fir Bolg" O'Bairre
Dusty "Bears the Claymore"
This pack has fallen though.
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“I am known as Feeder of Crows, Cliath Bard of the Fianna and the story I am about to tell is a story from my hearth.” He swallowed and looked each of his listeners in the eye “There used to be a pack known as the Keepers of Bean Sidhe, Banshee’s warriors. Our sacred task was to guide the dead to the place they belonged…preferably in the most spectacular way imaginable. Our story starts somewhere near the end of our stay in the Lowlands…the Blue Pelt Sept. Our pack had performed it share of heroics and idiotic (most happened at the same time) and I had fallen into favor of an elderly silent strider known as Harendotes. She was carrying a treasure with her, one that belonged to the misty isles. She had been found worthy by the Fian court to hold it but not to wield it….I speaks of the Axe of Glasgow (toch?).” Rain stopped for a moment to see the remarks on his audience faces. “One faithful night after we had survived another of our heroic antics she approached me, she said that of all the Fian of Delft she has chosen me to take the axe to where it belongs. The lowly man that I was in her shadow I bowed and accepted the token and gave word to my pack that we where departing to Scotland to return the axe to the heroes of the isles. And here is where the true story starts.
We had decided to return to Ireland first, we desired to see our friends of old in the Sept of the Thunder Spear. It was a night of joy en reveling and imagine that even ol` grumpy managed to get laid that night (to no small thanks to me…). But we had a journey to undertake and we said our farewells and left towards Glasgow. As we arrived to the Umbral borders of the spiral lands we braced ourselves for what would be a tough journey. Michaels umbral savvy combined with our Wise totem we managed to elude most spiral packs (we managed to kill a wyrm beastie on the way though, quite a fierce one…but that’s a whole different story). We managed to arrive to the famed Tri-Spiral Sept in Scotland…hampered tired and wounded. They took us in as heroes and for a few days we reveled. Then the day came for us to return the axe before the council. I told them story of our journey and of our stay in Delft and of the old strider. They where impressed and granted us their hospitality, scotch and women…ah those where some of Jason’s most beautiful nights (we had to hide his phone to achieve it though). Banshee came to us in a dream and said that the axe had been granted to Daniel Rends-the-Storm Callahan, Athro warrior of the Fianna and pride of the Tri-Peaks Sept. Banshee told us that it was the storm renders time to travel beyond mists and that we had to join him on what would be his final journey. But what she told us then shook us to the very core. I remember her words well as they still haunt me to this very night “You shall accompany him on his final and most glorious of trials. Yet his journey into the mist is not a lone one for many of his foes will follow but the keepers shall follow his wake.
When we spoke the next morning it was clear to us, we would join the storm render on his journey and fullfil our task to Banshee even if it would mean that our time had come. This decision was one of the hardest decisions we had to make, but what is a man if he does not hold true to his duty until the very end. With our mind set we traveled to Daniel and asked him if he would take the keepers to fight by his side. He said that he honored us for returning the fetish to where it belonged and that he would be honored to take us on his journey. For three nights we reveled as we had never reveled before, we danced, drank, made love and sang until our very bodies collapsed to force us into slumber.
We gathered our things and told our newfound friends, lovers and bottles goodbye (Fir Bolg was hard to separate from this one bottle of burgundy…), and in a howl for blood and glory we turned to wolves and as a wild pack thirsting for glory we ran into the umbral mists that for which the isles are so famed. Rends-the-storm was lightning fast and even though he was a full moon he rivaled our theurges umbral savvy with ease.
After what I believe was a two days of travel we saw a black tower in the horizon….the beautiful green lands abruptly ending and changing into a forest of black thorns covered with vile venom. Everywhere we could see shredded skin and remains of destroyed spirits…the smell was that of a toxic waste even though there were naught factories in sight. The cruel and vile rape of the land made us cry out for vengeance and a burning desire for wyrm blood to be soiled for their crime against Gaia. Rends-the-storm waited not and dived head first into the thorns and hardly a seconds later we followed. The thorns ripped at our flesh and shredded pieces of fur, but we cared not and pressed on, shredding the thorns with equal vigor with our fangs and claws. We waded trough the thorns and arrived at the bottom of the black tower. Fir Bolg slammed against the stone with his massive body and strength but naught a scratch or burst showed. We circled the tower and searched for a scent, and we found one. We knew that within the tower was a powerful wyrm creature. Storm Render drew the Axe and stroke at the tower, the axe cleaved the obsidian and we could hear an unnatural scream of anger, hate and corruption from above. We shifted to crinos and prepared for battle, we knew that the beast was not alone and we had smelled a pack of spirals in the area…they where speeding our way and soon we stood face to face with a pack of 14 black spiral dancers.”
The mighty storm render looked me in the eyes and command “hold them I will defeat the wyrm beast”, glory to you feeder of crows…glory to you and the keepers of bean sidhe”, I nodded and responded “Die well”. The storm render leapt into the air and used his axe and claws to climb to the top.
We on the other hand turned to the threat in front of us, we knew that now was our time and that today was a damned fine good day to die. The spirals grinned thinking us easy pray and taunted us to charge (we would have to charge uphill, a fools errand and a sure death), and then we responded…and oh how we responded…we stood together we band of brothers and howled. We howled unlike any howl you have ever heard before…we howled our very essence, we howled our very souls and it seemed that with us howled the very Bean Sidhe herself. The spirals trembled and we smelled their sweat and fear and before the fear had time to leave their faces we climb the fool’s errand and charged them up the hill into the Black Death howling death and defiance.
Grumpy as always arrived first and arrived hard, he slammed into the biggest and ugliest spiral he could find and slammed the bastard into the thorn filled earth; it was a quick but painful death. Fir Bolg used his huge size to grab a fallen tree lump filled with thorns and flung it at them, three of them dodged in time while the last met his maker, needles to say his claws met the other three fast enough. Jason, our youngest brother bravely charged passed two spirals and before they could truly react he was on them ripping skin, bile and pus from their hides. Michael spotted a spiral in the back chanting and quickly moved silently towards this fucker and commanded the spirit of the thorn to entangle the spiral, and the thorn spirits heeded his words…and even weak and sickened they strangled the spiral and cut him and sliced him in pieces…gruesome and painful just what the bastard deserved. Me, I stood there and looked three of them in the eyes….the bastards couldn’t even move a limp not even when Grumpy came on them hard, fast and lethal. Together we cleaved to the next bunch of spirals. We could taste the glory and victory….”
And then all went to hell. While Michael howled for slaying the enemy theurge he did not notice a spiral behind him, none of us could have reached him fast enough. A spear made of bones and barbs slammed into his body and forced him to his knees….he…he was looking me straight in the eyes when the spiral sunk his claw in his head and ended his live…”
Jason took down his spiral but two more jumped on him and pinned him to the ground. He fought like a beast but he could not avoid the balefire….I was the last thing he saw.. Fir Bolg fought like the great marauding beast he is and kept four spirals at bay as he tried to reach me and grumpy but there where to many and they came to fast…he was forced to his knees…and then the thorns whipped themselves around him……god fucking damn it…I looked at him and he looked at me….his eyes where calm and with a cry of glory he fell.
In a howling frenzy me and grumpy assaulted the last few spirals. I had not noticed that their leader had drawn his sword and had been looming in the shadows all the battle, the coward saw his time to strike and lightning fast he assaulted me
The sword came with precision, power and a will for death and by Macha I would not have stood here had that sword connected with my body. Grumpy noticed and with speed unknown he took the sword full frontal in his left shoulder…near his hearth. Grumpy was strong and grabbed the sword arm of the spiral and pressed forward the sword sinking deeper and deeper into him. The spiral look his death in the eye and I could smell his fear, With a last howl of deviance Grumpy ignored the spiral blade in his body and ripped the bastards throat to shreds….
The last ones taunted me, they attacked and cut but never to kill. I was tired and weak and could hear Banshee singing….I knew my time had come and I gathered all my strength for a final howl, one that none of them would ever forget again. The howl came and it came hard, I could hear Jason weights-the-lament howl with me, I could hear Michael foretells-of-blood, I could hear Grumpy Balors-fury, I could hear Aiblin fir-bolg and I could hear Bean Sidhe howl with me.
I fell to the earth and all went black.
When I rose I truly believed I was dead and that I would get see my ancestors, pack, my long gone wife…none of those things, when I arose I was alone and it was gently raining. I looked around and saw many bodies still littering the ground and I saw many carrion crows happily feeding on their remains. I look up at the tower and noticed a majestic crow sitting in the opening the storm render had made. The crow was calling me, I could hear a powerful woman’s voice calling me….In the storm renders wake I ascended the tower and entered trough the gaping hole. There I saw a beast, the black razor feather worm with a gaping mouth filled with rows of razor-sharp teeth, black blood and green pus flowed from its ripped body…the storm render had done well. Regrettably the hero lay next to the beast holding his axe firmly, and with his last breath spoke “Today was a good day to die, and we gave them hell. Tell them of our victory and of our glorious fall” and then fate taunted me for he handed me the axe…once again I found myself in the spot to return it to the Tri-Spiral Sept.
I took their bodies out and buried them under a green and lush hill and returned to the Sept. What happened from there is altogether a different story”
