The first step to getting a bike is learning about bikes, because you don't know anything about bikes. After a few hours of online research, you've learned that you can't afford anything good from Amazon or any of the larger stores, so you start calling around and checking Craigslist. Online sources offer nothing but junk, but after working off and on for a few days, you get a lead on a good bike at a shop across the Connecticut River in Hadley.
With the afternoon off, you take the bus across the bridge and find yourself standing in front of a deeply discounted Cannondale, perfect for trail riding and for getting around town.
"What's wrong with it?" you ask the sales associate.
"Nothing," she says. "We just accidentally bought ten instead of two. Finger slipped on the order button."
It's less than $400, and your debit card works. You pick up the cheapest helmet they have and ride back home.
Elton has a surprise waiting for you when you swing downtown one afternoon: a toolkit with a mini-crowbar, a flashlight, some screwdrivers, a folding knife, plastic baggies to store extra clothes for shapeshifting, and wet naps. (Life as a werewolf requires a lot of wet naps.) Everything is courtesy of David Banicki's shack near the dam you took apart.
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You never met Black Tarn in the days of her power, only as she declined into grief and madness. Even during Clay's heroic attack on the pipeline, shortly before your First Change, the old Fury had started to experience fugues and unusual dreams. But once, a rumor of Black Tarn's coming set both Wyrmspawn and conventionally vicious humans fleeing like a wave of rats. Her mystic theurgy was legendary, and her wrath terrible.
Or so the stories went.
Elton, who is also a theurge, might know something, so you carry a huge metal jar of clam chowder to Elton's flat. Over a meal of bread, chowder, and green beans, Elton listens to your story of Black Tarn with growing concern.
"The Umbra is both useful and necessary to a werewolf," he says, "but it is not where we belong. It is an intrinsically hostile place. Some old Garou myths say that was not always the case, but any werewolf who spends too long in the Umbra will eventually fade into it. I fear that's what's happened to Black Tarn."
"Can we do anything?" you ask.
"Black Tarn was…is a Black Fury, right?" Elton asks.
You nod.
"Then I see two possibilities," Elton says. "First, there is a statue of Gorgon in the woods that we could petition. Second, there is a Gorgon mask on Rosemary Street, in the worst parts of town. The former would require us to restore the forest around Broad Brook. The latter needs, I suppose, a Bone Gnawer or a Silent Strider: someone who could tame the slum-spirits."
"So we need more allies first," you say.
"Exactly," Elton says. "But we can help Black Tarn. If she's not already dead."
Elton spends the rest of dinner telling you stories about Gorgon. She's a ferocious spirit, proud and cruel, but she's also a great protector of humanity. And her wisdom is the Earth's wisdom: if anyone knows Black Tarn's fate, it's Gorgon. You should find more werewolves: they might be able to clean up the Umbra around Gorgon's sacred spaces and let you contact her.
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