Sarah Horowitz, theurge Silent Strider

[Mairien]

Demographics Name: Sarah Horowitz Breed: Homid Auspice: Theurge Tribe: Silent Striders

Mishpocheh Mother, Please stop writing inappropriate letters concerning my civil status. Yes, they have a shul in Port City. The baker makes good tsholent - not as good as ours, of course -, but it's impossible to get greaves and tworog here. Mr. Goldstein pays well and the work is not too hard. There aren't many Italians here, but a whole lot of Irish. Love, Sarah PS: Tell David to tell Moe to stop sending me love letters. They won't change a thing. She knew she would get a complaint in return about her failure to actually get on such a reasonably on-time train, but she couldn't be bothered to re-write the whole letter on a new sheet now. There was entirely too much family in her life. Or too many families. There was actual family - mother, father, and David. Then there was the mob - in essence, David's friends. They supplied the speakeasy, the operation of which her brother considered an excellent line of business. She supposed it was a step up from running a bakery. And then there was, of course, the tribe. And everyone constantly wanted something or other of her. Sarah wished not infrequently that they would all just shut up - but not that they should go away. She knew well how deluded she would be to think that she could flourish in isolation, without all those bonds, much as she constantly struggled against them. Life had begun strange, and turned even stranger. She had been so little that she could barely remember now the time when her family came to New York all the way from the Galician shtetl where her parents and grandparents had grown up. The New York of her childhood had been vast, and yet small. It was little more than a street or two in Brooklyn, where her father had opened shop. They had been better off than some, but not well enough for David and herself not to be well-acquainted with the neglected children who roamed the streets of the neighbourhood - those same who a few years later would have the spirits and cunning to start a major bootlegging operation when the prohibition hit just as they came of age. One of them, Moe Dershowitz, had been dizzy with her for years and still was. David, who had since taken over the shop from father, had become more than comfortable by now operating a speakeasy, even though he was his same old self in many ways. The money didn't go to his head, which was good. Mother and father had periodic arguments about whether or not getting involved in this had been a good idea, and they were in the habit of switching periodically which one of them defended which point of view. That was two families. The third had entered her life in the most shocking, bizarre, and ironic manner. Somewhat plain, and feisty in character, she had never attracted overmuch attention, and while she was well aware that the neighbourhood wasn't exactly a safe place when it came to larceny, she had been quite oblivious to the new dangers that her status as an adolescent woman implied. That changed one evening, when in a narrow alley she became aware of so much more. She couldn't quite remember how, but the matter ended with a whole lot of blood and innards splattered over the pavement and her standing naked with hair in all sorts of places on her body where it was not supposed to be. And it had felt entirely right and proper - for a short moment. It didn't take long for someone to pick up her rather confused self and set her straight, and to explain what all of this was about. Apparently, her existence, or rather, the particular nature of her person, was not particularly expected, but it was a thing that was occasionally found dormant in people's ancestry. She couldn't help but laugh upon learning that these people apparently thought of herself as Egyptians - and had been driven out from their homeland. To this day she had not managed to figure out whether there was any significance to this particular irony. They were also convinced to be God's chosen people. Apparently that was not so uncommon, except they had something to back it up. Sarah had never seen a rebbe work a miracle. Nor did she know anyone who had, or knew anyone who knew anyone who did. But everyone knew someone who knew someone who knew someone who had seen such a thing. It was also not entirely clear what exactly history was supposed to have been about for the last two-and-a-half thousand years. Sarah had always wanted to learn more, see the magic of the universe with her own eyes - but being a girl had really not helped with getting a rebbe to talk, and David always downplayed everything, including his own learning and insight. Or maybe he hadn't actually learnt anything, who could know. It was not just the rebben, around here, who were interested in such things, however - every now and then people got together in the house of some dotty old lady, usually a goyishe, to invoke a miracle. One was never quite sure it it actually worked. Now with the garou, it was another matter entirely. They had no prejudices on account of her sex, and they had things to show, not just to tell. The world of letters and the world of tangible things merged - and Sarah was sucked right into it...

Sheet GNOSIS: 5 (1+4) RAGE: 2 WILLPOWER: 5 (3+2) PHYSICAL (3) Strength: 2 Dexterity: 2 Stamina: 2 SOCIAL (5) Charisma: 3 Manipulation: 3 Appearance: 2 MENTAL (7) Perception: 2 Intelligence: 4 (Creative Logic) Wits: 4 (Snappy Retorts) TALENTS (9) Brawl: 1 Expression: 1 Primal-Urge: 1 Streetwise: 3 Subterfuge: 3 SKILLS (5) Drive: 1 Etiquette: 1 Firearms: 1 Larceny: 1 Stealth: 1 KNOWLEDGES (13+1) Occult: 4 (Ghosts) Enigmas: 3 Investigation: 3 Law: 1 Rituals: 3 BACKGROUNDS (5+4) Spirit Heritage: 3 (Urban Spirits) Allies: 2 Rites: 3 Totem: 1 RITES (3) Rite of Binding (level 1) Rite of Becoming (level 2) Descent into the Underworld (level 3) GIFTS Homid: Persuasion Theurge: Spirit Speech Silent Strider: Visions of Duat MERITS (4pt) Spirit Magnet (1pt) Natural Channel (3pt) FLAWS (7pt) Persistent Parents (AKA Jewish Mother) (2pt) Curiosity (2pt) Phobia: Heights (2pt) No Partial Transformation (1pt) RENOWN Glory: 0 Honour: 0 Wisdom: 3 22 freebies (15 base + 7 from flaws) -4 for Merits -8 for +4 Gnosis -2 for +2 Willpower -4 for Backgrounds -2 for Knowledges BELONGINGS A suitcase with clothes A briefcase with writing supplies A .38 revolver A wallet A small vanity mirror

[Mairien]

NPCs Allies: Moishe Dershowitz, Aaron Hertzberg, and Samuel Weiss are a trio of New York mobsters who grew up with Sarah and her brother David, who now runs a speakeasy supplied by them. Moe has been in love with Sarah for a long time, a continuous complication of the situation, and her moving on in the world has left some resentment, but still, she is practically family to them and give her the occasional financial support when she needs it. They're quite powerful in their native Brooklyn and are trying to reach out along the East Coast, but as of now their influence in other cities is limited. Martha Childers: A young, blonde girl in her early twenties, Martha is secretary to an influential city councilman, a position she uses to gather information and apply a subtle touch of influence here and there in support of keeping the peace and tending to the downtrodden in this powder keg of the city. Sarah met her shortly after her arrival at the caern in the Wild. Being a Child of Gaia, Martha is kind and idealistic and believes that humanity needs to be tended to and guided and that without a bettering influence, humans, as a whole, would succumb to the Wyrm in short order. Sarah has always been puzzled that she derives no misanthropic consequences from this idea. Martha is busy with her own life and duties, and in light of her youth has little influence in the Garou Nation, but she took pity on Sarah's seemingly solitary position in the world and encouraged her to make connections and not walk through life alone. After some initial reluctance, Sarah has come to accept her naive goodwill and regards her as a friend. She still helps Sarah here and there, especially when it comes to keeping up contact with the human realm and not losing herself in the sea of mysteries. Martha lets Sarah use her address to receive letters, prompting immediate protest and suspicion from her mother upon spotting the gentile name. The position of Sarah's family is a point of disagreement between Martha and herself, as they are technically, that is to say, genetically, kinfolk, albeit with a very diluted heritage. Martha believes that they should be brought under the umbrella of the Garou Nation, and Sarah, somewhat guiltily (but also with a sort of rebellious spirit), would like to keep them out of it. Out of a love of harmony (and also because it is a matter for Sarah's tribe), Martha has, so far, refrained from meddling directly. Garou Acquaintance: Robert Leary: A pleasant oval face, reddish brown hair, and an affable smile around his eyes, the deputy chief of police of Port City is a well-liked figure and much cleverer than most think he looks. He is a Child of Gaia who has deftly manoeuvred himself into this unusual position for one of his kind and works tirelessly to foster the fickle rapport between organised crime, the unions, and police in order to keep eruptions of violence to a minimum, and to protect the city's authorities from the destructive grasp of the Wyrm. He is often willing to bend the arbitrary and irrelevant human laws in the interest of peace. Sarah was introduced to him by Martha. They have never really had occasion to do anything for one another - neither has Robert needed Sarah's connections, being mostly concerned with the runnings of his own city, nor has she had to ask him for a favour in his human capacity (and she doesn't know if he would oblige her). And yet both of them keep up the contact with a tactic agreement to ignore the weirdness of it, perhaps out of a mutual feeling that they may one day be able to help each other somehow. In light of her experience with Martha, Sarah also suspects that some kind of fatherly instinct on Robert's part may play a role, as the Children of Gaia seem to go in for that sort of thing. Supernatural Encounter: There is a certain ghost that haunts the subway tunnels of Port City with the gruesome habit of animating the corpses of successful subway suicides. Sarah's theory is that it is either a suicide itself or perhaps the ghost of someone who was somehow associated with a suicide, but she has, so far, been unable to find out who it is or what it wants. It appears to have a curious ambivalence about everything, including contact with people - it's been more than once that it first attracted her attention seemingly intentionally, but then fled as if it had thought better of it. Sarah would like to figure out a way to at least trap it enough to figure out what's going on, because the regular inexplicable panics in the subway are becoming a bit vexing. Although at least it does keep the stations free of homeless people. Humans in Sarah's Life: Harold Levin: Harry is a young reporter for the Portside Tribune, the major labour-aligned broadsheet of Port City. He seems to have no interest in dating Sarah and the two of them carry on a seemingly relaxed friendship (Sarah doesn't quite know how she feels about that). Through him, she hears quite a lot about what exercises the human population of the city, and she constantly scours his stories for hints of something or other of a supernatural nature that requires attention. He has a constant suspicion that she knows more about a lot of things than she lets on, and has made it his mission to find out, resulting in a sort of playful contest. Richard Byrne: Richie is a representative with the Teamsters' union. He has an avid interest in poetry and, perhaps bizarrely for an Irishman and union rep, is something of a philosemite. Sarah met him through Harold, but unlike the young journalist, he is quite aware of her underworld connections and has been trying to get her to persuade her friends in New York to consider a business proposition from the union, whose power is in decline and which is in need of muscle. That Mr. Goldstein mentioned in my character application doesn't exist, he's just someone Sarah invented for her mother, whom she tells that she has some kind of office job. Place of Sentimental Importance: Port City's tiny Jewish cemetery, right behind the synagogue, has been a place of refuge for Sarah. Grass grows between the graves and in its centre stands a tree that is older than the city itself. They give the place a grounding quality, and make it one of the spots in the city where the Gauntlet is weakest. Sarah would often come here to sit in solitude and contemplate her bizarre life situation between so many worlds. Fittingly, it is also the place where she had her first glimpse of the Underworld.

[kingmonkey]

Not so long ago... It had been months since Sarah and Martha had free time together. It was going to be a special night on the town-- just two women having a night of fun, and forgetting the drudgery of daily life. The two garou women dressed up in their most lively clothes. Martha put on her bell bottomed pants and a flirty blouse, her long coat, and a flowery hat. She may not always be the most fashionable of girls, but she had a cuteness that pulled any outfit together. Tonight, she was giddy as a school girl. Tonight, there was a moot at the Wild Caern. Perhaps evening wear fit for a speakeasy may not be the most fitting for a jaunt in the forest, but Martha made a convincing argument. "But I haven't had a chance to wear these pants, yet!" Truth be told, Sarah would be happy to get away for a night. For the past few weeks, she had been catching glimpses of something in the corner of her eye. At first, she thought it was a dog, or even a wolf in the city. It couldn't be garou, for it would be flaunting the Veil needlessly. In time, she understood it was a spirit. It either dogged her step, or played hide and seek with her in alleyways and parks. A spirit of coyote had chosen to pay attention to her, which was both wondrous and worrisome. The late April night air was cool, but not uncomfortable. Sarah and Martha got onboard the train a few blocks down from Martha's midtown flat. The station and the train were packed. The atmosphere was electric. Friday night in the Big City! Fashions were on display and big band music played over the radio in the ticket office. A pair of sailors danced on the platform, inviting any passing girl to join them, though none did. Feelings of revelry brought good spirits to the station, in turn feeding to positivity. The train trundled west and northward. With each passing station, the atmosphere grew duller, and more grey. The smell of organic excitement increasingly was replaced with scents of tar and cobwebs-- two smells that permeated every city to varying degrees. It was only the odd flash of Wyld, here and there, between the cracks in Wyrm's corruption and seams between Weaver's webs. Humanity felt more tired as the pair sped along the rails, but Sarah and Martha did not let that dull their spirits. Finally reaching the end of the line in the west end of Maynard, the ladies got off the train. The lonely station was desolate and hollow, yet across the street, thick stands of trees began to dot the open field. Weaver had not yet organized this land into her web, and Wyld was yet strong. The scent of spring foliage and fresh grass filled the girls' senses with the verdant taste of renewal. And Luna peeked a wide eye through thick clouds. The gibbous moon waxed, shining in anticipation of a night of revels. Primal energy surged in both ladies' hearts upon sighting the moon, finally freed of the tall buildings and the occluded shelter of the trains and stations. The wayward drunk who sat on the bench outside smiled and waved to the two, not at all concerned why two well-dressed women would be walking into the bush at night. In the light of the moon, both women cast off their human forms and ran into the wild. The moon shone on their fur and the grass cooled their paws as they raced and danced freely. And in the corner of her eye, Sarah saw Coyote. It flitted from tree to tree beneath the brush, daring her to chase. Martha saw it, too, and yipped a question to Sarah. Sarah felt compelled to follow, for it was heading in the direction of the caern. They hurtled through the Wyld night, but lost sight of Coyote. (Sarah could swear she heard it's laughing echo in the shadows.) Now, both wolves stood at the ancient elm that stood at the center of the caern. Around them were the gathered garou of the sept, and other visitors from nearby. Sarah had known a strange kind of in-between existence among the garou. They were at once all her kind, yet kind of alien to her. They were all of Gaia, of course, but the Silent Striders know a kind of loneliness even in the midst of a crowd. The urge that drove most of her people to wander lived in Sarah, though for now she was satisfied to remain and absorb what secrets the city would reveal to her. It was something of a surprise, then, when Sarah saw a visitor among them who she instantly marked as a Silent Strider. The visitor stood in her crinos form, tall and dark with Jackal's long ears, and the haughty gaze that hearkened back to Anubis. The mood at the caern was unusually subdued. Sarah could be glad that Martha had bound their clothes to them, for she had the option of taking homid form without undue embarrassment. The Strider's appearance had brought some anxiety. (When Sarah arrived, a great many pairs of eyes turned to stare at her, as though she was somehow tied up with the stranger.) The female was introduced as Born-In-Rain, ahroun of the Silent Striders. She had come from the Far East. She stood before the sept and spoke the tongue of wolves. "Long has my journey been, to bring me here, and dire is my purpose. In the lands of my kin, the Wyrm has risen from human mines, to taint their souls. He has twisted their minds and bodies into his service. We have fought against them, protecting our kinfolk, but one among them was taken. A dozen bodies left, but one girl taken. I have hunted them across the Pacific Ocean, through Canada, and down to this place. Seven humans keeping the girl in a stupor, delivering her here for reasons I do not yet know." The sept leader pledged that the local garou would offer aid, but the conversation was not for ears of cubs like Sarah. Born-In-Rain did not speak to Sarah that night. Celebrations were eventually resumed, but the mystery lingered in Sarah's mind. That mystery lingered for the rest of the week. It deepened further the following week when, out in the market on errands, Sarah caught sight of Coyote, standing in the center of an intersection. No one else could see it, and Sarah almost cried out to warn it when a streetcar roared down the street at it, but Coyote is too clever to die in such a dumb way. Coyote danced and turned and ran, and Sarah chased after it. She ran and ran through the city streets, not realizing until she stopped that Coyote had lead her to the 18th Street Station. There, she saw Coyote standing in a narrow corner, looking down on some more strangers among the garou. One of those strangers, though, also saw Coyote. Coyote had placed himself between those two women so each would see the other and know they both were looking to Coyote. The Station leader introduced Sarah to the newcomers. They were Chisisi, another Silent Strider come to town to find a missing girl, and Baroness Gator, his guide from the south. It was Baroness who had seen Coyote, and both knew they were somehow tied together in his schemes.

[Mairien]

Intelligence plus Occult about this whole business of a ghost not being accepted by the moon.

Dice Intelligence + Occult:

1d10sh8	8		✔
1d10sh8	1		✘
1d10sh8	2		✘
1d10sh8	8		✔
1d10sh8	3		✘
1d10sh8	4		✘
1d10sh8	8		✔
1d10sh8	7		✘

[kingmonkey]

For future reference, you can also use the dice tag 8d10smch8. The first 8 here is your dice pool, and the last number is the difficulty number. This way it's all in one line, and even counts the number of successes for you.

Dice Roll:

8d10smch8

5 ✘, 7 ✘, 5 ✘, 1 ✘, 9 ✔, 8 ✔, 10 ✔, 2 ✘

(3/8) 1⇑ 1⇓

Total = 47

[Mairien]

Nice, thank you!

[kingmonkey]

Sarah casts back through memories of her studies, thinking of the many lessons about the moon. And, as garou, there are so, so many teachings about the moon. From the scientific, to the cultural, to the mystical-- almost too many stories to parse.

There are stories of garou trying to plead or con or threaten Luna for her favour and being rejected, of course. There are tales of jealous kinfolk. And among humans there are so many cults and religious movements throughout history that have held astrological belief in the fortune that the moon may bring, both good and bad.

(You could easily come up with any fables you want to relate, or historical details pertaining to the moon, if you want to add flavour. Realistically, this means that you obtained enough successes to know that the subject of being rejected by the moon is too broad to derive more focused a picture without getting more details first.)