Date: Sun, 5 Jan 1997 (Approx)

Sue pages to Christopher, Nim, and Hazmat: Nim, what do you want us to do? Do 
  NoBrandHeroes stand a chance at catching us now? Should we take over as 
  GMing Hazmat's introduction to the pit? Lead us, oh almighty GM. :)
Nim pages to Christopher, Sue, and Hazmat: NoBrandHeroes are at least two 
  hours behind you. They were getting their car just as you arrived in 
  Seattle. Feel free to do as you will with those two hours. When you've 
  gotten up to two hours after your arrival in Seattle, let me know and I'll 
  tell you whether you need to wait or not.
>From afar, to Nim, Sue, and Hazmat, Christopher figures it'd take us about an 
  hour, from the time we got to Seattle, until we reach the Pit itself. Which 
  puts NBH still about an hour out when we wake up Hazzie and throw her on the 
  Spiral. So what's say we pick it up where Hazmat awakens?
Sue pages to Christopher and Hazmat: Okay. Basically now, Haz, we're running 
  your stuff. Any 'you' is you. :)

The impact wakens you. Your head and body still hurt, but what wounds you had 
  when you lost consciousness are gone. The silver bindings around your neck 
  and paws are also gone. You seem to be lost in darkness, the dank air of an 
  underground feel hanging around you. The floor is glowing faintly, and there 
  is a pattern of shadows laid over it.
Hazmat lies still for a moment, her ears flattened back and her eyes showing 
  white rings of fear. The fur rises all along her spine as she attempts to 
  get to her feet, tail tucked close to her hindquarters.
Nothing menaces you, though you seem to hear chittering whispers--always 
  behind you. The shadow pattern shimmers on the floor, like a reflection in a 
  pond's surface. Though your heart pounds in fear, you feel drained of all 
  anger.
Hazmat lowers her muzzle to sniff at the pattern on the floor, her large ears 
  swivelling fretfully this way and that. She paws the ground nervously and 
  lifts her head again to look behind her, and a soft whine escapes her lips.
The floor smells like old, sterile stone. The path itself seems to have no 
  scent. The whine is swallowed by the empty air, as if you never made a noise 
  at all.
Hazmat utters another soundless whine, pads a few steps forward, stops. Her 
  emotions, in her native form, are clearly expressed. This is strange, alien, 
  she doesn't know it, and she doesn't like it.
As you take your very first step, something within your mind snaps. The 
  pattern on the floor seems to writhe, moving on its own before your eyes. 
  The whispering sounds grow louder until you could swear that whatever is 
  making the noise is standing right behind you.
Hazmat startles, rearing up and whirling around, snapping at the air with the 
  fear-reflex of a frightened dog.
A rat spirit appears from the shadows. It begins to move toward you, only to 
  be snatched from the ground by an owl spirit that seems to descend from no 
  where. Suddenly, the Garou of the Wheel you know so well are all around you, 
  calling for the deaths of the rat spirits that have infested their precious 
  Wheel, and the punishment of those who are their allies.
~No!~ Hazmat shifts upwards, to the war form, though she remains crouched on 
  all fours, claws digging into the ground. ~No, that's /past/!~
Most of the Gnawers are rounded up, as well as those who are their packmates. 
  You're included in these. Megan stands before them all, as she did the night 
  Tommie was tried. Her judgement is delivered just as it was that night: 
  ~Death to all those who would bring harm to this Wheel.~ As the guardians 
  and Blackwatch move in to begin executing the half-moon's punishment, a 
  fight breaks out. The Gnawers, refusing to go down meekly, shift into the 
  warform and attack their executioners.
Hazmat struggles to resist what some rational part of her /knows/ is an 
  illusion, clawing helplessly at the ground. Then her eyes fix on Megan and 
  the Homid Fianna's swollen, and with a strangled cry she lunges at the 
  Philodox.
Chaos breaks out all around you. Megan drops back, and Brian steps between the 
  two of you, his silver klaive in his clawed hands. With a battle cry, he 
  raises it to slash at you. You yelp in pain as the silver opens your arm, 
  and fall back. He turns toward one of your packmates, standing beside you. 
  Kosh. The Glass Walker raises his hands suddenly, "Please! Don't kill me, I 
  had nothing to do with this. Here!" And as a gesture of his 'good faith', he 
  shifts up and claws at your face, tearing your muzzle open and ruining one 
  of your eyes. With a grin, Brian turns to attack one of the others, leaving 
  Kosh to finish the job.
Hazmat's temper, never her best quality, boils over as she lunges at the 
  Walker, howling in anger and hate and betrayal, her rage-blurred claws 
  slashing at his coat, her remaining eye turned red.
Everything becomes a haze as you lose yourself to violence and hate. You 
  awaken some time later under the city. From the little light shining down 
  into the sewers, you guess it to be nighttime. You're alone, bloodied, and 
  hurt, but you know that a lot of the blood on your claws and fur isn't your 
  own. Somehow, you managed to esacpe them. All those traitors. Even your own 
  packmate would turn on you to save his wretched hide. But you'd gotten him, 
  hadn't you? And the rest... in time. From the shadows, Cassius appears. Your 
  first instinct surprises you, as you feel calm around him, as if suddenly 
  understanding why he always treated the Garou as he did. ~Now you see why I 
  have never trusted them,~ he rasps in his dark voice. ~Follow me.~ It makes 
  sense to your mind.
Hazmat clambers to her feet and follows, rubbing absently at one ear, tugging 
  at it like a dog with mites.
With every step, you feel your rage grow and your distrust of the Ratkin fade. 
  Your hatred of your former Septmates gives you the strength to walk even 
  despite your wounds. He gestures into a pool, and images begin to form on 
  its surface. You see the crimes committed by Garou, in their foolishness or 
  arrogance or pride. The way they put down the Bone Ganwers, the way they 
  abuse those of tribes they consider 'weaker' than their own. It occurs to 
  you suddenly that they are simply to disunified; that is the source of their 
  weakness. Perhaps something you can exploit, when you've returned for your 
  vengeance. Another image appears: Nightmare.
Hazmat recoils slightly with a snarl of hate, one clawed hand going to the 
  scars on her lower belly.
Nightmare holds his hands up in a sign of truce. ~You understand, now, why I 
  had to do what I did. You were one of them, and they're all the same. But 
  now you're like us. You've come to see the light, and the truth offered by 
  the father. I was only doing my duty.~
Hazmat claws at the ground and utters a whining snarl. ~My /daughter/. And I 
  can't have any /more/.~
~A small price to pay for the glory that will be yours. Besides, what would 
  *they* have done, one they had discovered your child was Metis? Would they 
  have allowed you to keep her? Surely not. They would have killed you both 
  for your crime. You know it's true.~ And deep inside, you *do* know it's 
  true.~
Hazmat falls silent, lowering her head and turning it slightly aside. She 
  knows this, yes.
Nightmare continues, ~But now you have discovered the truth. Those weaklings 
  have forgotten their true task. Our true enemy is the Wyld, and they defend 
  it, foolishly, stubbornly. You will fight them.~
A shudder runs through the Ragabash. She pulls at her ear again. ~Fight them,~ 
  she echoes, faintly, and whimpers, ~Father....~
Nightmare's hackles raise. ~You will destroy them in the Father's name. You 
  will make them pay for what they have done. For what they would have done. 
  For the Father.~ A pause. ~Are you prepared to continue?~
Hazmat's head twitches up to look at the Ahroun. Her eyes harden as she lowers 
  herself to a four-footed Crinos stance and huffs assent.
The image of Nightmare begins to waver and blur, as if the water on which it 
  appeared were disturbed. It transforms, changing into an image so terrible 
  your mind must break. You scream without knowing you do so, body frozen with 
  terror as you look upon the face of the Father, the Provider, the very Wyrm 
  itself.

Christopher pages: Yep. When you look around again, you're in a room with a 
  bare stone floor, and several Spirals are there, including Sue and Chris.

Hazmat stumbles slightly and falls, coughing and retching. ~Hrr'aak.~ Her 
  stomach heaves, and the former Gnawer vomits a half-digested burger 
  onto the floor.
Christopher smiles as the former Gnawer returns from her trip though the 
  Spiral, and glances at Sue from the corner of his eye.
Hazmat's body shrinks away from Crinos and back to her breed form, still 
  looking ill from the ordeal.
Sue shifts into Lupus form.
You shift into Lupus form.
Christopher allows the two Lupus to greet each other in their own way. With a 
  quiet nod to the other two Spirals in the room, he exits.
The Ritemistress, which had shifted back to her natural form during the wait, 
  lolls her tongue at the galliard. She then walks up to Hazmat and greets her 
  as a new child of the Father, taking her from the cavern to rest before 
  beginning her instruction.