Tales of the Last Heroes

Gaia burns.

The world of werewolves is harsh, yet this harshness provides contrast to great acts of sacrifice and heroism. Quite simply, werewolves fight and die for their beliefs. Warriors fight horrific abominations with tooth and claw, while mystics hunt evil with supernatural insight. Some wise warriors employ even stranger methods, like streetsavvy trickery, political activism, and cunning intrigue. No matter what tactics they choose, werewolves walk between two worlds: the reality of the violent physical world and the mystery of the enigmatic spirit world.

Wherever they run — in the cities, in the wilderness, or even in the spirit world — werewolves face the same overwhelming fate. Their world is dying, and their destiny is ultimately tragic. In fact, many of their mystics proclaim that these are the Final Days. The End Times, when all of creation will finally unravel, are here. As the light dies, werewolf heroes are willing to sacrifice everything to hold back the darkness. We live in the age of the Apocalypse. If this is to be the last battle, then the Warriors of Gaia aim to win it or die with a curse on their lips and blood
on their teeth.

Becoming Garou:

Stories say that anyone bitten by a werewolf will become one himself under the next full moon. Some say the curse of lycanthropy is also transmittable via the curse of a witch or wizard, or even from drinking water from a wolf’s paw print. These stories are the result of confused encounters with the Garou, or perhaps deliberate trickery on the part of some Ragabash with too much time on their hands.

The truth is, werewolves are born, not made. A werewolf is the descendant of another werewolf, but is born of the same stock as the mother. Garou do not normally know of their heritage until puberty hits, at which point the First Change comes upon the cub. This happens much further along in the lifespan for homid Garou than lupus, of course, but it always comes as a terrible and traumatic shock.

It would be easier, of course, if a werewolf could breed with a human being or a wolf and know for certain that the child or cubs resulting would be Garou. But it isn’t that simple — a child of a werewolf and a normal human being or wolf has approximately a one-in-10 chance of undergoing the Change. The child of two werewolves is always Garou, but such a mating violates the Litany and brings with it another set of problems.

Kinfolk:

The child of a werewolf more commonly only carries the werewolf gene. Such carriers are called Kinfolk. They can be either human or wolf, but in either case they enjoy a special (if not always pleasant) status in werewolf society.

Some tribes look at their Kinfolk as revered children, since they might Change at any time (it’s most common during puberty, but it’s not unknown for a Garou to experience the First Change during adulthood). Such werewolves look after their Kinfolk, keeping them safe from supernatural enemies and close to the family so that if they do Change, they can join Garou Society with a minimum of disruptions. Other tribes view their Kinfolk as breeding stock. Few of them Change, and those that do aren’t getting any benefits by being coddled. The tribes that put the greatest stock on family — the Silver Fangs, Shadow Lords, Get of Fenris, and Fianna — are the most likely to keep close tabs and place heavy restrictions on their Kinfolk. Likewise, the Bone Gnawers, Children of Gaia, and Glass Walkers are more likely to take a mate based on love or desire, rather than trying to maximize their chances of breeding true.
Almost all the tribes have to admit that, at this point, any werewolf who is going to fight in the Last Battle has probably already been born, anyway.

Wolf Kinfolk, however, are a special case. With the wolf population dwindling and so few Garou willing to find a suitable lupine mate, wolf Kinfolk are especially prized. The Red Talons, obviously, keep the closest and most protective eye on their Kinfolk, but almost all of the tribes are more willing to fight, hunt and kill in the name of such mates simply because so few of them remain.

While wolf packs including Kinfolk usually have a powerful spirit or even a Garou protector (possibly even a pack, if the Kinfolk roams in territory that includes a caern or another important feature), Garou often assign a spirit observer to human Kinfolk. This spirit is called a Kin-Fetch, and its job is to alert the Garou if the Kinfolk ever Changes. This system worked better before the human population became as dense as it is, and before the Wyrm established the firm hold it has on the world. Kin-Fetches aren’t infallible — many of them aren’t even very bright, and can be distracted, deceived, or simply destroyed before completing their duty.

Cubs:

The term “cub” refers, in Garou society, to a werewolf who either has not yet Changed, or has not yet accepted her place as a Garou. The first application of the term is usually only used in retrospective, obviously, since it isn’t typically possible to tell a pre-Change werewolf from a Kinfolk. Rumor has it that certain divinatory rites once allowed certain knowledge of whether a child would eventually Change, but if these rites ever existed, they are lost to modern Garou. The best the People can do is keep tabs on their children and wait.

The First Change usually occurs around sexual maturity — between ages 10-16 for humans and approximately 2 years of age for wolves. Even before the Change, though, Kinfolk are prone to strong emotional responses, fits of temper, difficulty fitting in with their society, strange dreams, and odd fixations. In wolf society, this can lead to a Kinfolk being driven from the pack (though if the Kinfolk is strong enough, it just as often leads to the cub claiming a position of dominance). In human society, the Kinfolk might be wrongly diagnosed with mental illness or wind up in detention.

In any event, it all comes to a head on the night of the First Change. The character shapeshifts for the first time, usually in response to a threat or some other intense stimulus. Changing into the dreadful Crinos form, the werewolf takes out a lifetime of frustration, rage, and barely-repressed feelings of being wrong at whatever is in her immediate area.

If the cub is lucky, a werewolf or a pack is nearby and can subdue her before she wreaks too much havoc. If she is unlucky, she Changes alone and must find a way to calm herself down before she descends into irrevocable madness. If she is truly unlucky, the werewolves that find her are Black Spiral Dancers. In this case, she is taken away and forced to walk the Black Spiral: pressed into service for the Wyrm before she ever has a chance to know what that means.

In years past, it wasn’t uncommon for large cities or stretches of forest to boast a pack tasked solely with hunting down and controlling newly-Changed Garou. With the Apocalypse looming, however, and the werewolf population at an all-time low, these specialized packs are rare. At best, a lone Theurge may try to manage all of the Kin-Fetches in an area, but in general, this is a task that no one really has time to perform anymore. Therefore, some cubs vanish entirely or live their lives in a state of bestial madness, with only the Delirium to cover their predations and the servants of the Wyrm to put them to use.

It sometimes happens that a Kin-Fetch, a werewolf, or a helpful spirit identifies a Garou pre-Change. In this instance, the Garou are able to rescue (or kidnap) the cub before the Change actually happens. In some ways, this is a perfect situation, because it allows for the Change to happen under somewhat controlled conditions. Some werewolves, though, feel that the destruction and carnage wrought by the Rage of the First Change is exactly what young Garou need in order to understand their new lives.

Coming of Age:

Once a cub has been found, the rescuing Garou take her to a sept. There, she prepares for the Rite of Passage. Part of this preparation is learning the ways of the Garou common to all the tribes — the Litany, stepping sideways, controlling the Change, and even learning a Gift from a spirit. The cub must also learn about the tribes (a process always colored by the biases of the Garou that found her) and decide which of them she wishes to join. In some cases, membership in a given tribe is expected. A cub might be Pure Bred into one tribe or another, and several tribes are meticulous about maintaining their lineages. In these cases, membership in a tribe isn’t really optional.

Every tribe has its own traditions for marking a cub’s passage into adulthood. The Garou signal a cub’s coming of age with a Rite of Passage, a deadly and dangerous quest that tests a werewolf’s strength and wisdom to its very limits. The rite is more than a transition into adulthood. It also shows elders that a cub is worthy of membership in one of the tribes. Until this quest is complete, she does not belong to any of them, for she has not proven herself worthy.

Two choices follow. First, a werewolf may approach her chosen tribe alone. Once she does, the tribal elders may send her out on a test particularly suited to their kind. Solitary vision quests are based on ancient tribal traditions. Usually, however, the elders send the cub to a place where many werewolves gather. There, the child must wait until several cubs are ready to embark on a quest together. In this case, the ritual is also a test of the cubs’ ability to work together and resolve their differences. They may later decide to join the same pack. In all cases, the elders send spirits to watch over the petitioners, if only to verify the greatness of their deeds. Once these cubs return, they become cliath, join their respective tribes formally, and learn their first tribal Gifts.

Breeds:

A werewolf’s true nature is shaped long before his First Change. If one of his parents is human, he will grow up in human society, learning the ways of man. If one of his parents is a wolf, he will be raised by wolves, and human society is a mystery to him. In almost every case, one of the parents is Garou. Whether the child’s mother’s natural form is that of a human or a wolf determines what his breed will be. (It’s also possible that a werewolf might he born to two human parents or to a mated pair of wolves, if the werewolf blood is strong enough in his family. As mentioned, though, the likelihood of such an occurrence is much lower.) There are three such breeds in Garou society: homid, lupus, and metis.

Homid:
A homid werewolf grows up in human society, but is never truly integrated with it. Pre-Change werewolves, as mentioned, are prone to behavioral problems and sensory quirks that make them strange. They understand that human society has rules and has a certain set of expectations, but they often find them strange, unfair, or just annoying. Some mask it better than others, but the end result is that when the Change finally comes, amidst the blood and the death and the Rage, some part of the werewolf feels relief at finally being with her People.

That isn’t to say that the transition is easy. Years of education and indoctrination within the human world die hard, and what kind of upbringing the werewolf has had can make all the difference. If the werewolf’s father or mother was Kinfolk (and knew it), for instance, the cub might have had things a little easier. The Kinfolk parent might not have given full disclosure, but just instilled the child with a love of and respect for the natural world. Understanding, even in abstract terms, that Gaia can see and feel what people do makes for less guilt and horror when the Change comes and the Garou sees exactly how much damage humans are doing to the Earth Mother.

Some homid Garou, though, feel that although humans have nearly killed the planet, they are also the only species on Earth that can save it. As such, for the Garou to have any meaningful impact at all, they have to be able to move in human circles. Since homid werewolves are best suited to understand and work within human society, and since they are the clear majority of Garou, some of them feel that they should, by default, be the leaders of werewolves. The discussion is moot in most tribes, since the numbers dictate the leaders. But the effect of this imbalance is obvious. The Garou are losing touch with their wolf blood, and this can only herald disaster for the People.

Lupus:
A lupus werewolf is the child of a wolf and a werewolf, or, more rarely, two Kinfolk wolves. It’s rare, though not unheard of, for multiple wolves in a litter to breed true. In modern times, though, every lupus werewolf is a blessing. The ratio of lupus to homid Garou is roughly one to eight.

Lupus, like homids, understand from childhood that they are different. Pre-Change lupus tend to be more intelligent than their packmates, though they don’t really come into their human intelligence and problem-solving skills until the Change. Once that happens, they develop the capacity for abstract thought and symbolic language, which can be either a tremendous relief or a terrifying bombardment of ideas and information. When a lupus werewolf Changes, she must go from the relatively simple concerns of being a wolf (food, water, shelter, mating) to the much more nuanced social considerations of being Garou — not to mention dealing with humanity.

Humans and wolves are both social animals, and the fact that humanity has subtle body language cues is not, in itself, too jarring. The specifics tend to be difficult, though. A wolf bares its teeth to show dominance or to initiate a challenge. Humans bare their teeth to put each other at ease or indicate pleasure. Wolves greet each other by sniffing, humans do it by making sounds and touching hands. When a human goes from one culture to another, he must learn the new culture’s customs or inevitably mark himself as an outsider. Lupus Garou are almost guaranteed to be outsiders when they enter human society. They were, after all, literally raised by wolves.

Language is a huge barrier for lupus. Wolves communicate, but even if they have what could be called “language,” it doesn’t work the way human language does. A human puts together a random assortment of sounds and assigns meaning to them, and the lupus werewolf has to learn that concept before approaching the concept of “name.” It’s no wonder, then, that lupus are cagey and nervous around homid Garou, and even more so around humans.

For all that awkwardness (and danger, when their fear is paired with a werewolf’s natural Rage), lupus bring an understanding of the natural world that homids can’t hope to understand. They don’t romanticize the wilds, they simply understand them. The wilderness doesn’t have an agenda, it simply is, and living with it means understanding its ebbs and flows. Homid Garou can learn this, but don’t have the instinct for it that lupus do.

Lupus are also intensely aware that they are a dying breed. From their perspective, naturally, the humans are largely to blame, and the homids are accomplices. While a lupus may decide to join a pack with werewolves of other breeds, a few favor spending time with their own kind. Many such lupus either belong to the Red Talon tribe — known for its genocidal policies toward humans — or they at least agree with its philosophy. Even a lupus who trusts the homids in her pack may be overpowered by the call of the wild. She may trust her packmates with her very life but still feel a longing for the company of wolves.

Metis:
The Garou Nation could have a veritable army of warriors within a few years. The child of two werewolves, after all, is always a werewolf. They grow up with an instinctive understanding of Garou society and the spirit world, as well as an affinity toward shapeshifting. It would seem an easy solution.

Except, of course, for the fact that a child of two werewolves — a metis — is always deformed in some way. Some are born missing limbs, some are born disfigured and hideous, and some are born mad. Such werewolves are also always sterile, meaning that they cannot pass on the Garou “gift.” Even so, it would seem that up against letting the Wyrm destroy the world, breeding a few hundred deformed warrior-children might be a worthwhile endeavor. Cruel, yes, but one has to look at the stakes.

The greatest challenge metis Garou face, though, isn’t sterility or deformity. It is simply that thousands of years of Garou tradition marks them as unworthy, as abominations, as the shameful result of two werewolves’ weakness. In years past, both the metis child of a werewolf and its parents would be put to death or, at best, ostracized and shunned from their home sept. Now, acceptance of metis Garou is common in all tribes except the Red Talons (though some tribes are much more accepting than others). Metis can even claim positions of leadership in some septs, which would have been unthinkable only a few generations ago. Traditionalist werewolves look at this as a sign that the Apocalypse is truly on the horizon.
Progressive Garou point out that it took humans a long time to come around to the notion that the disabled shouldn’t just be warehoused until they die.

Metis are born in Crinos form, and may undergo the First Change anywhere from their first year of life to the onset of puberty. For this reason, they are raised within a sept, away from human eyes. This gives them the advantage of being well-versed in Garou society by the time they are ready to undergo a Rite of Passage, and it is not uncommon for them to learn rites simply by observing (provided they are allowed to).

That doesn’t mean their life is easy, however. With a few exceptions (Glass Walkers and Children of Gaia, notably), while modern septs might allow metis to live, they certainly don’t coddle them. Metis might be shunned by the sept as a whole; they aren’t turned out, but the job of training them is given out more as a punishment than an honor. Other septs shun the metis and her parents, meaning that while the young werewolf has a family, she knows that her family is kept ostracized from their society because of her existence. Some septs treat the metis more or less as true Garou, but remind her whenever she steps out of line that she might be slaughtered at any moment, just because of what she is.

It’s no wonder, then, that metis tend to be resentful and paranoid. The Litany flat-out condemns them, and any recitation of the Litany with a metis in attendance is at least somewhat uncomfortable. Most metis grow up bitter, and while some might learn to blend in among humans, they never really have a place to belong.

Forms:



A werewolf always feels most comfortable in the form she grew up in, which is known as her breed form. If you ask a werewolf how he sees himself, he will usually think of his breed form first. A werewolf is born in his breed form, and he keeps it until his First Change.

For instance, homid werewolves prefer to wear a human skin, largely because they are the most adept at dealing with mankind. When a werewolf shapeshifts into a human being, he is said to be in Homid form. By contrast, lupus-breed werewolves prefer having sharpened teeth and claws, warm fur, and the heightened senses that come from being a wolf. When a werewolf shapeshifts into a wolf, he has taken Lupus form. When in this form, he is quite obviously a wolf. A werewolf trying to pass himself off as a “wild dog” is either demented, a disgrace, or a buffoon.

A metis is born in his Crinos form, a form halfway between Homid and Lupus. An adult werewolf in Crinos is a killing machine, a massive, nine-foot tall monster plodding to battle on two stocky legs. The very sight of one conjures up images of an age long gone, when massive shapeshifters stalked the Earth and herded their flocks of human breeding stock.

Homid form and Lupus form are the two extremes of Garou shapeshifting — shifting completely from a man into a wolf for the first time is a brutal and painful ordeal. Eventually it becomes easy, and werewolves learn to make more subtle changes. For instance, they may take a shape halfway between Homid and Crinos, one halfway between Crinos and Lupus, or even (with great effort) temporarily shift a small part of the body. Regardless of breed, any werewolf can shift freely between these forms, but he will always be most familiar with his breed form. These three skins — Homid, Lupus, and Crinos form — are the most commonly worn, and they reflect three very different aspects of Garou society.

Delirium:

If a human sees a werewolf in the Crinos form, she is struck with overwhelming fear and madness. The human might panic and run, faint dead away, become catatonic or, in rare instances, blindly attack the werewolf. Garou call this phenomenon the Delirium.

The Delirium comes from suppressed racial memories of the distant past rising in the human subconscious. Because werewolves culled human “herds” systematically for thousands of years, they have permanently scarred the collective psyche of the human race.

The Delirium may be seen as a sort of supernatural blessing, for it prevents the horror of the primeval world from returning. Humans never see Crinos Garou as they really are. Instead, they rationalize such sightings away instinctively, concocting elaborate and horrific stories about what they thought they saw. They may not see anything at all, simply reacting to something they will never remember. Because of the terror of Delirium, most humans refuse to accept that werewolves are real, even when confronted with very direct evidence. The racial memories run so deep that it’s a rare and strong-willed human who can see so much as a photograph of a Crinos-form Garou and not subconsciously dismiss it as “some sort of hoax.”

Despite the protection this fear affords, the Garou cannot afford to take chances. Werewolves who unleash the panic of the Delirium without good cause are punished severely or exiled. Their survival depends on staying hidden and acting discreetly; indiscretion has its consequences. Werewolves hunting in human cities are loath to force the Delirium without a very good reason. Since the Concord, they have kept their existence secret, maintaining the Veil, the illusion that the primitive supernatural world no longer exists. If even the slightest chance exists that a werewolf’s shapeshifting was caught on film, for instance, the werewolves and their human kin will move heaven and earth to make sure that footage isn’t brought to daylight. Even if one human in a thousand believes what he sees, that’s far, far too many. This occasionally results in bloody purges of people who have seen too much, although some tribes (the Glass Walkers and the Children of Gaia, notably) refuse to allow innocent people to die for Garou carelessness.

Kinfolk are unaffected by the Delirium. They possess Garou blood, so they see their relations as they really are. Some werewolves choose to keep in close contact with their Kin, and they are open with them. Therefore, the Veil does not always apply to Kinfolk. Because they can see the world of the werewolves for what it really is, many are eager to work with their relations. Many, however, become resentful and bitter that they are just poor cousins the werewolves call on whenever they’re needed, rather than “true Garou.”

Auspices:

At the moment a werewolf is born, she inherits an ancient legacy. Her breed will shape her view of the world, and one day, her tribe will train her to fight the Wyrm. Her place in that fight, on the other hand, is shaped by something far more mystical. The phase of the moon at the instant of a werewolf’s birth determines her auspice, the role she is destined to play in Garou society. Every werewolf upholds one of these five aspects and receives mystical gifts to help fulfill it. A Garou is strongest when the moon’s phase corresponds to her auspice. The first time each month a werewolf sees her auspice moon, she is filled with an exhilarating rush of energy. During that moon phase, however, the werewolf is even more prone
to bouts of Rage than usual.

New Moon: A child born on the new moon is destined to be a master of stealth, trickery and guile. Such werewolves are known as “Questioners of the Ways,” and they are granted latitude to break — or at least bend — the rules of Garou society that other werewolves are not. The thinking is simple: If a tenet does not stand up under questioning, it should not be observed at all. These Garou hunt under the dark of the moon, coming up with the tactics to kill a foe that make more honorable Garou blanch. A new-moon werewolf is called a Ragabash.

Crescent Moon: The wan light of the crescent moon illuminates the spirits and the riddles they tell. Garou born under this moon are ritualists, spirit-masters, shamans and
mystics. All werewolves can commune with spirits, but crescent-moons are born to it, and act as emissaries to powerful Umbral beings, undertake quests into the spirit world and perform divinations for their septs and packs. The call up spirits of battle to fight for them, and coax (or beat) the most impressive Gifts from recalcitrant Umbral beings. Such Garou are called Theurges.

Half Moon: The werewolf born under the half-moon is a judge and balancer. Caught between extremes — man and wolf, Garou and human, adaptation and tradition, spirit and flesh — such Garou have to be able to make wise decisions on behalf of their fellows. Half-moons are taught the Litany and its interpretation from their entry into Garou society, and they are expected to be mediators and, when necessary, levy punishment on other werewolves. They are judges, both of their fellow Garou and of their foes. The question of whether a being is irredeemably Wyrm-tainted is often left to the half-moons. Such a werewolf is called a Philodox.

Gibbous Moon: The ample, but not quite full, light of the gibbous moon shines on the Garou destined to be storytellers and lorekeepers. These werewolves are not simple jesters or actors, however. They keep the traditions and oral history of the People, through methods ranging from fireside tales to multi-media presentations to howls on a mountainside. Their songs can soothe a pack after a loss or whip it into a battle-ready frenzy, and the call to war is the purview of the gibbous-moon. Such werewolves are renowned for their memories and their creativity, and among the People, are called Galliards.

Full Moon: Humanity connects the full moon and werewolf depredations in its stories for a reason. Garou born under the full moon are spirit warriors, the deadliest and most vicious of their kind. Such werewolves are often pack alphas and leaders, though they are better suited to enforce the Litany than to interpret it. They are war leaders, inspirational figures, and uncompromising killers, and they are trained in the bloody arts from the moment that their People find them. A werewolf born under the full moon is called an Ahroun.

The Thirteen Tribes:

Once a Garou completes his Rite of Passage, he is welcomed into one of the Thirteen Tribes of the Garou Nation. Before the completion of this rite, he is a cub, and therefore treated as little more than a child. He may not learn tribal Gifts or receive the tribe’s deepest secrets. Even metis cubs are shut out from such sacred knowledge; they’re welcome to work for the sept, but not to receive its privileges (though in practice, metis wind up coming to their Rites of Passage with a great deal more practical knowledge of Garou society than homid or lupus do). After the rite, however, the tribe teaches each new cliath the ways of the world.

Each of the Tribes originally came from a different region of the world. Each has its own tribal homeland: a place in the world where it has always been strongest. Each tribe’s Kinfolk and societies reflect these different cultures. During the ancient agreement of the Concord, the 16 major tribes set aside their differences and began the development of a communal society. Since then, three tribes have been destroyed. Thirteen tribes remain part of the Western Concordiat, and one of them is having serious misgivings about the future of that arrangement.

Black Furies: The Black Furies hail from ancient Greece, and are fierce warriors and defenders of sacred places. The tribe is all-female, though they sometimes allow their male metis to become full members of the tribe. Their tribal totem is Pegasus.

Bone Gnawers: The spiritual children of Rat see the world from its underside, living amongst the poor and destitute of every culture. In their long-forgotten past, they may have come from North Africa or India, but they have long spread across the world.

Children of Gaia: This tribe does not claim an ancestral homeland, considering itself to be made up of citizens of the Earth and ambassadors of peace and justice. Some Garou make the mistake of thinking this makes them weak, but when the children of Unicorn choose to fight, they fight with righteousness.

Fianna: The descendants of the Celtic peoples and spiritual children of Stag, the Fianna are loremasters, warrior-poets, and drinkers par excellence. They are known for their fiery passions and insights, and, less charitably, for stubbornness and veniality.

Get of Fenris: The Get of Fenris is proud of its Scandinavian heritage, and prouder still of their reputation as fearless warriors. They are unapologetically blood-thirsty and savage, and carry a wide survivalist streak. Fenris himself is their tribal totem.

Glass Walkers: It may seem odd for Cockroach to act as a totem for tribe of werewolves, but the Glass Walkers (the third name the ever-evolving tribe has used) see it as a badge of honor. They are resilient, adaptable, and the only tribe to be truly in touch with the modern world.

Red Talons: In many ways the antithesis of the Glass Walkers, the Red Talons are a tribe composed entirely of lupus Garou. They strongly favor reinstating the Impergium, culling humanity’s numbers and driving them back into a subservient position. Their savage totem, Griffin, agrees.

Shadow Lords: The Shadow Lords trace their ancestry to Eastern Europe, among the craggy cliffs and rocky foothills of the mountains there. They are ruthless — even Machiavellian — in their efforts to direct the Garou Nation, and believe that the might of their totem, Grandfather Thunder, makes them fit to rule.

Silent Striders: The Silent Striders were exiled from their homelands in Egypt, and now claim no homeland. They run from place to place, serving as messengers and scouts for the Garou. But the children of Owl never forget that they were gods in ancient Egypt, nor do they forget their hatred for Sutekh, the vampire that banished them.

Silver Fangs: The revered leaders of the Garou Nation — at least to hear them tell it — the Silver Fangs follow Falcon as their totem. The tribe is Russian by ancestry, and has a long history of pure breeding, nobility, and courage. Their modern image, however, also includes accusations of inbreeding and insanity.

Stargazers: The Stargazers are a tribe originally hailing from the lands around the Himalayas, and claim membership in both the Western Concordiat and the Hengeyokai Beast Courts of the Far East. Strange and troubled portents seem to indicate to the contemplative and serene children of Chimera that it may be time to leave the ranks of Western Garou entirely.

Uktena: One of the two remaining tribes hailing from the Native peoples of the Americas, the Uktena dare to open the doorways that other Garou won’t touch. In doing so, they open themselves up for corruption, but they are also suited to bind and destroy spirits that other tribes would never recognize. Their tribal totem is the Uktena, a horned water-serpent of great wisdom.

Wendigo: The second still-extant Pure Tribe is the Wendigo, the proud and warlike children of the cannibal spirit of the north. The Wendigo seethe with rage over what has been done — is still being done — to the Native Americans, but they grudgingly agree to work with other Garou.

Each of the Thirteen Tribes reflects the history and culture from a different part of the world. During the Impergium, when great heroes led their flocks of humans away from their rivals, their Kinfolk eventually formed the foundations of different human cultures. For example, many Get of Fenris have Scandinavian or Germanic ancestors, while Wendigo Kinfolk claim membership or ancestry in one or more Native American nations. While Garou Kinfolk can breed with werewolves of any tribe, most prefer to remain within their own culture. Most tribes are outraged when others place designs on their Kin. The Fianna tell stories of tragic romances, while the Shadow Lords engineer relationships with Kinfolk of other tribes to exact revenge or political power. The more liberal tribes try to avoid using their Kinfolk this way, but even a Child of Gaia thinks of his relatives as Kinfolk of his tribe.

A werewolf is not born into a tribe; he must prove himself worthy during his Rite of Passage first. A cub with a Garou parent usually makes the same choice as his mother or father when deciding what tribe to petition, but he does not have to do so. Every werewolf has a lineage stretching back for generations. Throughout most of Garou history, the vast majority of cubs have made the same choices as their ancestors. A cub with a long lineage will be hounded to “make the right choice.”

Theoretically, a cub can approach any tribe, but a cub who is obviously abandoning his ancestors’ legacy has to work twice as hard as an “adopted” cliath. If your father was a Bone Gnawer, you’ll have to work your ass off to join the Get of Fenris. Often, a cub receives dreams and visions of his past during his adolescence, but some of the greatest heroes of Garou legend have defied their destinies. And of course, not every werewolf knows the tribe(s) of his ancestors. A werewolf who Changes in a major metropolitan area might be, ancestrally, a member of any tribe. Such Garou are perhaps the lucky ones, as they have only their own merits to help them choose a tribe.

Some tribes have standards the prospective members must meet. The Black Furies, for example, accept only female Garou. If a Black Fury gives birth to a non-metis male cub, he must eventually petition another tribe to accept him. Silver Fangs will not recognize a hero who does not have an extensive lineage of Fang ancestors. Red Talons accept only lupus Garou. Bone Gnawers, by contrast, will accept almost anyone, including the most twisted and deformed metis. Some tribes have rites for tracing awerewolf’s ancestry. When performed properly, the rite may reveal visions of an ancestor’s greatest accomplishments... or epic failures.

Many Garou are very particular about their lineage, reciting the names of their greatest ancestors as they introduce themselves. The noblest are “pure bred,” regarded as obviously exemplary specimens of their tribal heritage. Pure breeds are impressive not only because of their superior pedigrees, but because dozens of generations of ancestors have chosen to support the same tribe. In the mystical world of the Garou, it is even possible for a werewolf to be aware of his ancestor spirits. A werewolf can reject this idea utterly, but it is also possible to summon up these memories, or even channel an ancestor to act through a young hero

As the End Times approach, of course, the Thirteen Tribes are increasingly eager to welcome young cubs into the fold, especially if they have a tribal lineage. The stodgiest elders complain that Rites of Passage are nowhere near as taxing or rigorous as they once were. These complaints don’t disprove the fact that a Rite of Passage is a grueling test of mind and body, and must be completed if a werewolf is to be brought into a tribe. At the end of the rite, the cliath has her tribe’s sigil inscribed mystically on her body or tattooed there physically. In short, tribal membership is a choice and an honor, not a birthright.

It is possible for a werewolf to leave a tribe, but this requires a special ritual and effectively reduces the Garou to the rank of cliath again. From there, he may join any other tribe that will have him, or he may remain tribeless, a Ronin. Werewolves only leave their tribes under the direst of circumstances, and a Garou who does so is often seen as a traitor and a weakling, or at the very least, as highly untrustworthy.

Garou Society



The society of the Garou is what keeps werewolves from devolving fully into monsters. If they relied only on their Rage and their destructive impulses, they would be bestial beyond reason. But the laws and traditions of the People provide a vital structure. They show a nobler goal, and encourage werewolves to achieve their potential as Gaia’s chosen warriors.

The Litany

The laws of the People are ancient. Their traditions vary from tribe to tribe, but all Garou must remember and hold to the central code of law called the Litany. In its full form, it is as much an epic poem as a legal code. Chanting it in its entirety can take hours. Four times a year, the werewolves of the Fianna tribe gather in their tribal homelands to recite it in its entirety.

While it takes the greatest scholars to master the entirety of the Litany, most werewolves learn it in the form of 13 basic precepts. Each precept has a practical basis, but not all of them are universally upheld as unquestionably moral. Each tribe has its own views on right and wrong. In fact, many perceive a hypocritical gap between what Garou elders preach and what werewolves actually do. Masters of Garou law can cite dozens of examples of precedent, but as fewer cubs learn to chant the details, more argue ways to bend the rules in their favor.

Garou Shall Not Mate With Garou
The Law: Werewolves should mate only with humans or wolves. The law forbids the creation of metis because of the deformities and insanity that settles on the wretched children of Garou-Garou pairings. This stricture forms the basis for some of the greatest tragedies of Garou culture. Many ancient songs tell of werewolves who loved deeply and carelessly, only to be undone by their passion.
The Reality: Every year, more metis are born. Modern Garou often claim that prejudice against the metis is a primitive and foolish mindset. Homids are increasingly prone to conceive metis as well, as modern ideals frequently stress romance in a relationship, rather than the old custom of arranged marriages for political gain.

Combat the Wyrm Wherever It Dwells and Whenever It Breed
The Law: The Wyrm is a source of evil in the world. Gaia created the werewolves to protect the world, and the Wyrm is the greatest enemy the world has. The fastest way for a werewolf to become respected is to prove himself in battle against the servants of the Wyrm. If any Garou neglects this duty, the Apocalypse draws that much nearer to eruption.
The Reality: These are the Final Days. So say all the elders. The Wyrm is too strong to kill, and even if it were possible, many suspect it would only delay the inevitable. Jaded elders are distracted by other tasks, such as securing territory, contesting for political power, and crippling their rivals. Few want to accept that the Apocalypse has begun, for it would mean sacrificing personal ambition to accept a painful truth.
As straightforward as this tenet seems, it also raises questions. What happens to a Garou that is possessed, but not fully in the thrall of the Wyrm? Should he be destroyed? Is a Wyrm-spirit really destroyed if it is “killed,” or will it just re-form somewhere else? Can werewolves expect to change the course of history by destroying all of the Wyrm’s servants, or should they choose their battles more carefully? Should the Weaver be challenged as well? Many questions arise in the course of debating this law, in an age where there’s little time to spend finding the correct answer.

Respect the Territory of Another
The Law: When one werewolf approaches another’s territory, she must announce herself first and ask permission to enter. The traditional method involves the Howl of Introduction, reciting one’s name, sept, totem, tribe, and home sept. Many Silver Fangs and Shadow Lords also insist on a visitor reciting her lineage. In addition to these precautions, a werewolf should mark her territory, whether with scent or clawed sigils, to keep peace with other Garou.
The Reality: As the population of humans in the world keeps growing, A Garou’s howling and urinating on trees to mark territory becomes impractical. In urban caerns, some technologically proficient werewolves (like the Glass Walkers) prefer emails, telephone calls, and texting, and some set up apps to work with GPS systems to keep track of territories electronically. As pressure mounts from outside, many young Garou argue that the territories that remain should be more communally managed — though progressive human-influenced thought has a difficult time winning over a wolf’s territorial urge.

Accept an Honorable Surrender
The Law: A warrior people typically settles its grievances with bloodshed. The Garou have a long dueling tradition, stressing trial by ordeal and single combat. Many werewolves have lost their lives to overzealous practices such as these; they may have died honorably, but their losses are keenly felt all the same. A werewolf being attacked by another Garou can traditionally end a duel peacefully by exposing his throat. The loser shouldn’t suffer a loss of reputation or renown for doing so, but a victorious Garou should be praised for his mercy. Theoretically, any dueling Garou is honor-bound to accept a surrender.
The Reality: In practice, peaceful werewolves invoke this law freely, but some are far more selective. After all, in the heat of battle, anything can happen. Even the most feral and violent werewolf struggles to obey this law, but when blood begins to flow, instincts overcome reason. Some warriors are infamous for “accidentally” overlooking a surrender and sinking their teeth into an exposed throat.

Submission to Those of Higher Station
The Law: Like the wolves with whom they breed, werewolves maintain a strictly hierarchical society. When one’s pack or sept is not pure family, the hierarchy of alpha and lord becomes necessary. The concepts of Renown and Rank are integral to Garou society. A werewolf must always honor reasonable requests from higher-ranking Garou.
The Reality: The weakening bonds of Garou society have done little to reinforce this tenet among the young. Too many elders don’t understand or can’t cope with the human world. Each tribe has its own culture, and not all of them believe in kowtowing to tyrants or humoring egotistical alphas just because they have long lineages. A werewolf will honor the elders of his tribe generally, but opinions vary when it comes to the highly ranked of other tribes.
Bone Gnawers are highly egalitarian, and although they’ll show their bellies if the need is there, they tend to make a note of it and plot a later payback. Children of Gaia and Silent Striders respect personal choice, and therefore, they prefer to earn obedience rather than demanding it. The Get of Fenris respect only those elders who can best them in combat. Red Talons prefer not to hear “monkey babble” about complicated hierarchies; you should know your place instinctively. Shadow Lords and Silver Fangs, on the other hand, enforce this law with iron fists and sharpened claws.

The First Share of the Kill for the Greatest in Stat
The Law: This “kill clause” originally applied to hunting, but has also had a long tradition of being invoked regarding spoils of war. In theory, the most renowned Garou has a right to the most powerful fetishes or other valuable goods found by her packmates. Silver Fangs and Shadow Lords demand what they see as their due; other tribes accept grudgingly.
The Reality: Pack mentality may be a strong instinct, but not everyone thinks the same way. Again, modern concepts of egalitarian or democratic philosophy tend to get in the way. Only the strongest or the most trusted Garou are able to repeatedly invoke this tenet for their own benefit, and even then it can strain the bonds of a pack.

Ye Shall Not Eat the Flesh of Humans
The Law: Grotesquely, this tenet arose not from compassion, but from practicality. Not long after the Concord, Stargazer mystics noticed that many werewolves took a bit too much pleasure in devouring human flesh. Such cannibals found themselves vulnerable to the corruption of the Wyrm. Elders grown fat off human stock also became weak at stalking
and killing more challenging prey, like the Wyrm-spirits they should have been hunting. In the 21st century, this law is more than a simple spiritual matter. Human beings now consume
a frightening amount of preservatives. Their chemical-laden diet makes their flesh unwholesome.
The Reality: Werewolves can still lose control of themselves in a frenzy, and some still feel a certain hunger even when fully lucid. Most man-eating Garou act alone, concealing it as best as they can from any packmates, or running without a pack in order to keep up their appetites. Some gather in groups to take part in forbidden feasts, though — the Bone Gnawers, Silent Striders, and Red Talons are all said to have secretive camps that ritually devour human flesh.

Respect Those Beneath Ye — All Are of Gaia
The Law: The Garou ancestors of legend pledged to become the world’s protectors, so they must respect every creature’s place in the natural world. Every werewolf is likewise worthy of respect. The Garou believe in an animistic and warrior version of noblesse oblige, and chivalrous behavior is a respectable way to gain Renown.
The Reality: Many cubs, cliath, and metis Garou have learned the hard way that this tenet isn’t always enthusiastically enforced. Shadow Lords and Get of Fenris quantify “respect,” and give those beneath them only what they believe is “fairly earned.” Bone Gnawers just laugh at this precept. They sure as hell don’t get respect, and who could be lower in station than them?
The lupus are often stronger at respecting this tenet. Particularly noble Garou have even been known to mourn the passing of their foes, earning the respect of others in the process.

The Veil Shall Not Be Lifted
The existence of the Garou must remain secret. Here, the law and reality are the same. Werewolves must be discreet when acting among humans. This practice is far more than simple respect for the Concord or humanity’s right to its own civilization. The world is a dangerous place. Humans have more powerful weapons every year. Ancient vampires and far more sinister supernatural creatures are capable of acting on what humans learn. And, of course, the servants of the Wyrm are lurking everywhere, exploiting the weak. If werewolves choose to act like monsters, other creatures will hunt them like the beasts they are.
Garou also have an obligation to protect humanity. When human see werewolves lumbering about in Crinos form, insanity grips them, and they concoct all sorts of outrageous rationales for what they’ve seen. Fear mounts, panic results, and the populace resorts to drastic measures of defense. Rampaging werewolves can cause almost as much damage as the Wyrm-creatures they hunt.

Do Not Suffer Thy People to Tend Thy Sickness
The Law: The warrior who cannot fight or hunt also weakens those who must care for him. Long ago, an infirm, aged, or mortally wounded Garou would be torn to pieces by his septmates. Such a pitiable hero should not suffer further. These days the merciful and dignified practice is to let such an elder choose how to end his own life. In Garou legends, many of the greatest heroes simply set out on one last journey, never to return.
The Reality: The Children of Gaia despise this law. They believe in a natural death, caring for their elderly through the most prolonged and horrifying illnesses. A few older Garou, especially those crippled by depression and remorse, simply return to human or lupine society to die, making peace with the life they left behind.

The Leader May Be Challenged at Any Time During Peace
The Law: A werewolf’s pack mentality may be strong, but he should not tolerate a weak alpha. If no immediate threat is nearby, any Garou of sufficient rank may challenge the pack leader for his position. In a pack, the challenge takes the form of a quick and decisive duel, test of wits, or snarling display of intimidation. In a sept, the assembled werewolves watch the challenge play out as high ritual.
The Reality: Many tyrannical leaders resist challenge by simply being too strong to defeat. Some mutinous packs challenge their leader one at a time, wearing him down until he must relent. It’s also an uncommon tactic for werewolf leaders to declare a state of constant war, denying any “peace” in which a challenge would be appropriate. Cunning werewolves insist on choosing the type of duel that should result in their win, playing off their rivals’ known weaknesses.

The Leader May Not Be Challenged During Wartime
The Law: Every military relies on a clear and decisive chain of command, and the Garou are no different. Obedience in a pack is essential. Once a fight begins, the alpha’s word is law. A packmate who disobeys may be punished or assaulted by his companions, or possibly even by his sept, after the danger has passed.
The Reality: As previously mentioned, some alphas declare a constant state of wartime to abuse this tenet. Those who disobey usually have some chance to defend their actions, standing before a Philodox in a form of court martial. If a werewolf was under magical control, corrupted, or possessed by the Wyrm — or if the alpha was just startlingly incompetent — such disobedience may be excused, especially if the action saved a pack or the sept. Unfortunately, any renown the wolf would have received for her valor may be canceled out by her insubordination.

Ye Shall Take No Action That Causes a Caern to Be Violated
No Garou argues against this tenet. Caerns surge with mystical energy and the lifeblood of the Earth. If one is destroyed or corrupted, part of the Earth dies, and so does the power of the Garou. A werewolf who leads a proven or potential enemy to a hidden caern is punished severely, even if the act was unintentional.

Justice



To keep a law, one must be willing to enforce it. The Garou’s code of punishment ranges from simple and quick reprimands for minor crimes and mistakes to elaborate trials or ordeals for complicated transgressions. Loss of Renown is a common punishment, but when the Litany is violated, the consequences are usually more severe.

Each sept and tribe has its own methods of conducting trials. Get of Fenris and Red Talons prefer trial by combat. Shadow Lords favor cunning, elaborate arguments, ensnaring their opponents within their words and intimidating into silence those who try to circumvent the process. Bone Gnawers convene a jury of peers to pass judgment, a democratic if sometimes corruptible approach. Uktena summon spirits to discern the truth, while Glass Walkers employ modern criminology. While one or two tribes may dominate a sept, many caerns attract a wide array of Garou. In these cases, the sept leader may choose the methods of her tribe, the tribe of the highest-ranking Philodox, or that of the offender himself. Political consequences arise for each choice.

Once sentence has been passed, a sept enacts a formal rite to punish the offender. If a criminal escapes, the Garou may offer a bounty for his capture… or his skin. One of the worst punishments is formal ostracism, an offense feared more than a clean death. Most Garou believe that great heroes are reborn; some even have visions of past lives to prove it. An outcast, declared a “rogue” or Ronin, is shut out forever from his brothers and sisters. Unless he can commit some great deed to prove his valor, he remains mistrusted and alone. Sadly, fatalistic werewolves convince themselves that there is no future for the Garou as the Apocalypse draws closer. Entire packs of Ronin now wander the Earth, rejecting the strictures of the Litany completely.

Hierarchy

Werewolves need strong leaders. A strong chain of command helps them focus their Rage with discipline, without the stress of wondering who to lead and who to obey. In most small gatherings, an alpha proves his dominance by brute force. In larger gatherings, however, doing so is impractical. If a ruler has to fight off rivals constantly, he will soon become too weak to govern properly.

Garou society establishes hierarchy through a system of Renown, a measure of a hero’s deeds and service to her sept. Constant infighting wounds and weakens a sept, but this system channels such energies in a positive direction. A werewolf’s instincts and thousands of years of tribal conditioning reinforce the need for a hierarchy. Pack instincts demand it. Every werewolf has his place. Elders rarely need to demonstrate power by abusing their lessers, and their vassals are usually content to serve. Though it may seem abusive and unequal to many modern Garou, the hierarchy does have its roots in merit. The strongest and wisest rise to the top — or so the ideal goes, at any rate.

Based on their renown, each werewolf also holds a certain rank in Garou society, and he is often addressed by his proper title. For instance:
— Cubs are at the bottom of the pecking order, treated as little more than children. They’re eager to learn, and they ask many confusing questions.
— Once a cub completes her Rite of Passage, she becomes a cliath, a young Garou enlisted continually to perform all sorts of tasks for her sept. Some travel all over the world, completing missions and learning about werewolf society.
— As cliath continue to gain esteem, they eventually become fostern. These Garou have risen high enough to act as emissaries between septs. At this stage in life, an entire pack may undergo a period of fosterage in a distant and seemingly alien caern.
— Adren outrank fostern, often taking on some of the lesser political positions in a sept. By this time, a pack of adren usually limits its travel to a handful of caerns. Political rivalries develop over time.
— Athro outrank all these commoners. They are typically swept up in some of the most perilous and compelling adventures their tribes can offer. Silent Strider messengers have been known to travel around the world to summon the right pack of athro for critical adventures.
— Only the most esteemed and highest-ranking Garou are addressed as elders. Even if an elder does not currently serve as a tribal elder, as a sept leader, or some other esteemed position, a werewolf with enough renown is still treated with the greatest respect.

When two Garou of vastly different rank interact — as in a conversation between young cliath and their elders — their relative positions are fairly obvious. When two werewolves have roughly the same Rank or Renown, social niceties are not so clean-cut. When heroes of equal status disagree, matters may come to blows. Fortunately, Garou society has developed protocols for dealing with such conflict: tests of dominance that are usually based on the type of problem facing the sept.

Leadership may pass from one werewolf to the next based on immediate need. In large groups, the leader may even change from hour to hour. A werewolf’s moon-sign is the first qualification. For instance, the highest-ranking Ahroun will usually lead a tribe or sept in battle. Once the skirmish is over, if the group is confronted by a devious group of spirits, a clever Theurge challenges the warrior in a riddle contest to claim the leadership role. If negotiating skills are needed shortly thereafter, a Philodox known for his social acumen might then challenge the alpha to a different type of contest. When a Garou is especially renowned for his skills, a wise rival steps down from a challenge once he realizes he’s outclassed. Note
that outright challenges are rarely necessary at the pack level, where the members already know one another’s capabilities intimately.

Dominance and Submission

By law of the Litany, when a group isn’t in the middle of immediate danger, its leader is open to be challenged at any time. Millennia of conflict have refined three particularly common methods of testing dominance: facedown, gamecraft, and duel. If the pack or sept faces a crisis, the type of problem influences the type of challenge, such as a duel fought to see who leads a midnight raid. Otherwise, the challenged werewolf is allowed to choose.

The facedown is a contest of wills. The challenger initiates it by growling at his opponent and staring him in the eye with an unblinking gaze. The first werewolf to back down loses. A simple contest, but still potentially dangerous. Once a werewolf’s hackles are up, he may work himself up into a frenzy and attack. Should this happen, the frenzied werewolf loses not only the confrontation, but Renown as well.

Gamecraft is a test of skill, cunning or wits. It may be a riddle contest, a game of chess, a test of knowledge (such as the hierarchies of spirits), or some similar mental exercise. The victor is the one who demonstrates superior intellect — or sometimes cunning, in the case of Ragabash who are willing to cheat.

The duel is straightforward single combat. The challenged Garou may choose the type of weapons used; such contests are rarely to the death… at least formally. But as with facedowns, duels may trigger frenzies of violence. Some septs, such as those dominated by Get of Fenris, rely on duels almost exclusively.

The loser of a test of dominance must show some sign of submission immediately — an “honorable surrender,” as the Litany puts it. Doing so might involve kneeling, falling to the ground, exposing the throat, or lowering the head and whimpering. Gamecraft has its own signs of submission, from the chess master who knocks over his own king to the storyteller who bows with a flourish and buys his rival a drink. In a physical contest, if the loser does not show some sign of relenting, the winner may follow through with a quick attack, cuffing or clawing his lesser until recognition is given.

The Pack


The strength of the wolf is the pack. One wolf can be strong, but he can help bring down a creature 10 times his own weight by working with brothers and sisters. Werewolves are no different. Packs are the smallest social unit and the very foundation of Garou society. Septs may be conquered and tribes may argue, but a pack works together despite all adversity. Werewolves from tribes that are bitter rivals may be closer than blood kin when they have run in a pack long enough

Packs range in size from two to 10 werewolves. Preferably each of the five auspices has a representative, but necessity may demand otherwise. Frequently a pack is simply made up of whatever young Garou have been recently gathered, regardless of auspice. Some packs are composed entirely of one tribe; others are more cosmopolitan. Some break apart among Rank lines, and some even go Ronin.

Each pack also shares a common purpose. The purpose may be a simple declaration (“hunt down the enemies of our sept”), an ambitious crusade (“Recover the lore of the White Howlers from the dens of the Black Spiral Dancers”) or an esoteric agenda (“Travel to the East and share knowledge with other supernatural creatures”). The pack may, of course, decide to take on many other types of tasks along the way, but its unity often comes from dedication to one purpose.

Some packs focus on a particular strength, bringing together werewolves with similar or complementary talents. A pack can take on a wide range of adventures, but it excels at its specialty. One may be dedicated to monkeywrenching, sabotaging businesses that work with the servants of the Wyrm. Another may be obsessed with the spirit world, traveling continually deeper and deeper into mystic realms. A third may be intensely political, traveling among a handful of septs and becoming embroiled in intrigue and espionage. A pack can take on almost any adversity, but elders learn quickly what they do best.

Totems

Each pack also dedicates itself to a particular totem when it is first formed. Many of these totems are great animal spirits, such as Raven or Bear. Others are elemental entities such as Grandfather Thunder or spirits of mythic form such as Pegasus and Chimera. They may also follow strange animistic incarnations of ideals such as the Muses or Almighty Dolla. During an intense and mystical rite, the pack pledges fealty to a patron whose aims and strengths reflect their own purpose. The pack then receives a totem spirit, a spiritual incarnation-servitor of the totem that acts as their guardian, guides them through the spirit world and even lends them mystical power.

On some occasions, the pack gathers expressly to serve a specific totem, and all the cliath who serve it are first brought together to form a pack with this affinity in mind. A Wendigo sept deciding to form a Raven pack would gather together the most infamous tricksters and sagest masters of knowledge. Once, it was easy for elder Theurges to simply summon these guides. However, since magic is dying rapidly in the world, many packs now undertake a great quest into the spirit world to find their totem spirit. Until it does so, the pack travels without such guidance.

Some pack bonds are lifelong. Others are content to disband after many years of cooperation, especially as they achieve or give up on ambitions. If the pack makes this decision, such as when their purpose is accomplished, they ceremonially release their totem spirit.

The Sept
Septs are the societies that form around caerns, usually for the purpose of defending these sacred sites. The oldest septs are dominated by one or two tribes, usually not far from their tribal homelands. These days, most septs are increasingly multi-tribal. Only with the strength of diversity can the Garou hope to overcome the peril of their dwindling numbers.

The primary task of a sept is guarding its caern. Through powerful mystic rites, a sept can help heroes travel great distances to aid them. Drawing upon Luna’s power, mystics form powerful moon bridges between the largest caerns. Because of this ability, septs are also gathering places for travelers. The elders of a sept may welcome a wandering pack, allowing them a place to rest and perhaps granting some resources for their errand. This honor usually demands that the visitors pay some form of chiminage in return. This payment may be a simple as reciting a story of their journey, as esoteric as bringing back something valuable from the nearby spirit world, or as onerous as performing a brief task for the sept’s benefit.

Older Garou settle down eventually into one sept that they particularly favor, usually assuming a political position there. An old wolf grows fond of his den, and eventually plans to die there. For this reason, elders commonly offer younger Garou the chance to perform missions on behalf of their sept as a dangerous but clear path to honor and glory.

Every sept has a sept leader, the overall master (or as some would put it, the true alpha) who organizes the sept and directs the local packs. The highest-ranking Theurge becomes the Master of the Rite. She performs many of the day-to-day rituals that maintain the sept, and cares for the spiritual center of the caern where werewolves meditate. The caern Warder protects the area surrounding the caern, known as the bawn, and keeps an eye out for trouble. Many young metis are enlisted to help him in this task. Septs often have a wealth of other positions, from the den mother or den father who watches over cubs to the Talesinger who chronicles its history. Every werewolf has a place in Garou society, and most are eager to speak to young heroes in need of advice.

The Tribe
The most overreaching social unit is the tribe. The tribe’s bonds are familial and ideological, and inspire loyalty — and schisms. Each one has a very different hierarchy, from the formal nobility of the Silver Fangs to the ever-shifting meritocracy of the Glass Walkers. A tribe’s ideology has a great impact on those septs where the tribe is strong. Young cliath serve their pack first and their sept second, but when a tribe has a pressing issue that only werewolves of that tribe can truly understand, an elder may call upon the tribe’s cliath to aid him, possibly with the help of their packs. Some tribes place extra pressure on the need to obey; all offer Renown for those loyal scions who aid them.

Every tribe also includes smaller societies, groups of werewolves who share a common purpose but who don’t necessarily belong to the same pack. These groups are known as camps. A Glass Walker may find herself drawn to the esoteric goals of the Mechanical Awakening, or the rough pragmatism of Dies Ultimae. Camps are usually loosely connected; even those packs whose members are all of one tribe rarely are all of the same camp as well.

Moots


Werewolves gather regularly in moots, events that serve a variety of social, political, and religious functions. These gatherings reinforce the common ties that all Garou share by emphasizing ritual, purpose, and camaraderie. Moots usually convene every full moon, or when the sept has need for a specific gathering. The moot is a vital function for any werewolf who seeks to earn Renown, hear news of the war from other septs, or simply continue to prove her good standing among her allies.

Moots always take place at caerns, sometimes with powerful spirits summoned as part of the proceedings. Theurges perform great rites, Philodox oversee protocol and any pronouncements of judgment necessary, Galliards exchange lore and oversee such ceremonies, and Ahroun organize duels and keep an eye on moot defenses. The moot is as formal an affair as Garou ever hold, though the Ragabash are certain to make sure that the voice of common sense can still be free to undercut poor displays of policy. Werewolves dispatch their packs on dangerous tasks, celebrate heroes who have returned triumphant, argue or brawl over political matters, and judge those Garou who’ve been accused of violating the Litany. Most importantly, the spiritual energy expended keeps the caern alive, for as the Garou prosper, so do the sacred sites they attend.

There are many types of moots, varying in size, purpose, grandeur and attendance:
Hearings may be convened at any time, usually when a pack returns from a great adventure. They involve debriefing, exchanging information, and awarding Renown. The sept
leader decides which elders are vital to the discussion. Clever werewolves keep a close eye on the elders during hearings, as their reactions to the pack’s account often reveal volumes
about political struggles within the sept. Not everyone in the sept is required to attend a hearing, although many elders hate to be the last ones to hear the latest news.
Sept Moots are the regular monthly meetings of a sept. Any Garou is theoretically welcome, although those from outside the sept — particularly those whose tribe isn’t represented at the sept — typically meet with some level of suspicion. This meeting is more than a simple voicing of complaints; it often resolves with a raucous celebration.
Grand Moots are convened to discuss the weightiest matters, often those that affect an entire tribe. All werewolves of the specific tribe within a reasonable distance are required to attend; others may be invited as well, but only with special permission.
Concolations are the largest moots, called only for the most serious of purposes. All werewolves nearby are required to attend, regardless of pack, sept, or tribe. The gathering is announced during a normal moot, and it always requires at least five elders of five different tribes to support it. Once the decision has been made, messengers are sent out from region to region and caern to caern. The event is held exactly three months later at the exact same site. Legends speak of a few grand concolations where messengers are dispatched to retrieve some of the greatest heroes in the world, but such an event has not occurred in decades.

Tribal Moots
A tribal moot operates on the scale of a Grand Moot. Tribal elders call them as a show of solidarity to reinforce a tribe’s political power. Once it was rare for one tribe to scheme directly against another, but vengeful elders have increased the conflict between tribes as tensions mount and the End Times approach.
Black Furies gather in their most sacred tribal holdings, isolated lands of deep Wyld free from the touch of civilization. Choral chants and sacred hunts are common pursuits, along with tribal rites no man has ever witnessed. As more of their tribal lands fall before their enemies, Black Furies have also begun hosting far less traditional gatherings in the cities or exurbs.
Bone Gnawers rarely hold formal moots. Their idea of bonding is usually some level of debauchery — stealing food and booze, going on a roundabout tour of their territory, settling old grudges, and paying off old debts as the opportunity presents itself.
Children of Gaia moots range widely, from contemplative to raucous. Some are serene affairs focusing on meditation, quiet discussion, and solemn introspection. Others are wild revels that may include hallucinogenic reveries or even sacred communion through orgiastic group sex with humans and wolves present.
The Fianna are known for two styles of tribal moots. During the holidays at each solstice and equinox they hold solemn affairs where they recite or sing great epics and preserve their bardic history. Their other tribal moots are wild celebrations, sometimes including friends or possible allies from other tribes who have been invited to share in song, dance, and drink. Fianna Galliards spend months rehearsing for performances at both types of events.
Get of Fenris moots are raw, physical affairs where the Fenrir compete in tests of endurance, howling, drinking, eating, and of course fighting. Informal brawls merge with ritual gauntlets, ceremonial burning or scarification, and inspiring sagas from the skalds. Even their dances are violent, as much mosh pit as anything else.
Glass Walker moots are constantly evolving, taking on new forms as the tribe borrows new leadership and organizational techniques from human agencies. They may take the form of corporate meetings that stress “agility” and organize objectives as though they were fiscal quarter goals, or they may appear like drug-fueled raves that use pulsing music to disguise planning sessions.
Red Talons gather in the wild, far away from the influence of humans or even homid Garou. Hunting, howling and running with the nearest wolf pack are all common pursuits. Some of the tribe’s most secretive Talon moots involve far darker rites, often enacted as a mockery of human rituals. Human sacrifice features prominently in these, such as when Talons string an eviscerated human’s entrails around a “Yuletide tree.”
Shadow Lords honor Grandfather Thunder’s ways high atop mountains, beneath stormy skies. Great pomp and circumstance celebrate rank, conspiratorial accomplishments, and the latest intricacies of the tribal hierarchy. Thundering drums and solemn Gregorian chants speak of the grandeur of the tribe. Some Garou suspect the Shadow Lords even offer human sacrifice at their tribal moots now and again.
Silent Strider moots are very rare, given the tribe’s scattered nature and lack of strong sept holdings. Their moots are something like traveling carnivals — one night an empty field, the next a mix of campfires and tents where dozens of Garou exchange stories about their travels under the starry sky. Sometimes the moot takes places deep in the Umbra, but it rarely stays in one place for long. Races, relays and long hikes are typical rituals to complement the storytelling.
Silver Fangs prefer the tried and true. It’s a rare thing to see anything at a Silver Fang moot that isn’t a generations-old tradition; the old practices are the most honorable. White-robed nobles lead candle-lit processions to isolated, idyllic locales; silver-furred Garou dance elaborate reels with exacting precision and sing ancient, beautiful songs.
The Stargazers favor moots with little formality and no time wasted on empty traditions. Their gatherings are simple affairs where they exchange information quietly, challenge one another to riddle games or other intellectual contests, or simply meditate in silence.
Uktena moots are an unknown to outsiders. The Uktena favor elaborate mysticism of the most cryptic sort, binding their affairs within the pacts they have with their spirit allies. Sometimes the true purpose of a moot isn’t evident until it is underway: it is enough to say “it is necessary” to bring the Uktena. Once the moot is in progress, only then do the elders reveal its purpose, often through divination rites.
Wendigo derive many of their traditions from the practices of their local Kinfolk relatives,. One gathering may involve vision quests and peyote, while another might employ sacred tobacco, fire dances, or ritual combat. Some moots employ Umbral travel, such as when the entire assembly placates a great spirit and hunts it into the Penumbra.

Revelry
The greatest moots typically end with a revel, in which werewolves transform into Crinos form and run madly about the area to clear away anything that may pose a threat. This rampage is often so strenuous than some elders fall behind the cubs and cliath, or even die trying to keep up the pace. The revel isn’t a pack affair; the sept begins the run as one, then fragments into smaller groups as the night proceeds. Individual werewolves may work themselves into a frenzy, possibly becoming a danger to themselves and others. Most run themselves to exhaustion. The strongest continue until dawn, immediately gaining renown for their great stamina and fervor.

The revel is not performed every time the sept gathers, but is instead reserved for special occasions. Urban septs often bypass or reroute the revel, given the amount of damage it can do to a territory or to the Veil. Examples of modern revels include Fianna pub-crawls, Bone Gnawer feasts, Glass Walker “fragfests” on networked computers, and Uktena drumming circles.

Language

Werewolves have a number of ways to communicate. Homids know at least one of the languages of the human world, and most metis learn the same. Lupus can communicate very simply when they are in wolf form, often by using a great deal of body language. Each breed can learn the other’s language, but conversation can be difficult. Lupus rarely communicate concepts that use more than a handful of verbs and nouns, while homids find it frustrating to limit their speech while in a wolf’s skin. Even homid Garou from distant lands have difficulty speaking with each other.

Werewolves have developed a separate language over thousands of years to bridge the gap. Galliards know this worldwide language as the “High Tongue” or “Garou Tongue.” Most claim that the Fianna conceived it first. All Garou are taught the High Tongue immediately following their Rite of Passage, although differences in regional accent and dialect do come up. Garou language depends as much on body language and tone as on actual words. Much of it is instinctive, accented by pheromones, growls, and whines. A few spoken words cannot be reproduced by a human or wolf throat, as they require partial transformation to articulate. These words represent some of the loftiest concepts tied to Garou culture. Some lupus never really master this language. They prefer to speak as simply and plainly as wolves do.

Garou in Lupus or Hispo form (halfway between Lupus and Crinos) may communicate freely with wolves. This same “lupine language” can be used in other forms, but a greater chance of misunderstanding arises. While the formal and complex Garou High Tongue requires training, any werewolf in Lupus form can speak in “lupine” instinctively. The first time a homid or metis shapeshifts into a wolf, he can communicate with other wolves.

Glyphs
One of the facets of the Garou "language" are the glyphs that are universally used, regardless of tribe or breed. These glyphs, unlike the Garou language, are not instinctive to learn, but they are simplistic and often take little previous knowledge to be able to parse at their intent as often the more complex glyphs are a variant or a complication of a simple basic glyph. Another vital feature of the glyphs is that they are all able to be carved into wood, flesh. concrete or even metal using the werewolves claws or any bladed weapon, usually very quickly as well.

Howls


A werewolf howl is not an inarticulate cry — it can communicate a great deal of information. Many howls incorporate the Garou language, although not all of them are as “high-falutin’” as the High Tongue. Just as every Philodox studies the Litany, any Galliard should be well-versed in all the common howls.

Given the regional “accents” from sept to sept, an attentive Galliard might even be able to recognize a performer’s tribe or auspice, or possibly part of his personality. Optionally, a Storyteller may allow a Galliard skilled in expression or performance to convey further information. Thirteen of the most commonly used howls are listed here, though one is not a call of the Garou Nation.

Anthem of War — This howl is a call to battle. Ahroun use it to lead an attack; Galliards use it to rally the troops and boost morale. The howl can convey the enemy’s rough location and numbers, as well as how soon reinforcements are needed.
Call for Succor — A werewolf uses this howl to summon his packmates if he is in great danger. Some find it embarrassing, since it sounds like a puppy’s bark for his mother. An expressive howl may include sensory impressions of what danger is near.
Call to Hunt — A long, low ululation informs the pack of the position of its prey. When performed properly, it may also identify what the prey is, describe its wounds, or even coordinate the tactics of the hunting pack.
Chant of Challenge — This howl begins like the Howl of Introduction, then rolls into a vicious mockery of an enemy’s deeds, ancestry and personal habits. The Fianna invented this howl as a method of initiating duels, then later elevated it to a satirical art form. Everyone hearing the chant can discern exactly why the challenge is taking place.
Curse of Ignominy — This discordant, snarling whine is used to insult violators of the Litany. As more werewolves lend their voices to the whine, it becomes increasingly painful to hear. The strain on a listener does not subside until he joins in the cry. Garou who have fallen into disfavor are subjected to this cacophony. The sounds convey a mocking account of a villain’s failures and shortcomings. An entire sept can memorize all of the excruciating details by sharing in the chant.
Cry of Elation —This howl signals an impending act of possible great glory. It essentially means “Look at me” or “Watch this,” though it may convey further information, such as the intended target of the forthcoming deed.
Dirge for the Fallen — This dirge is a somber, low-pitched howl used as a requiem for the honored dead. Its length depends on the status of the fallen.
Howl of Introduction — The Litany commands werewolves to respect the territory of others; this howl is the result. It details a Garou’s breed, tribe, and auspice. Some werewolves include parts of their lineage.
Snarl of Precedence — This short, violent outburst is directed against a chosen foe, marking them as the werewolf’s prey. Packs use these snarls to coordinate their tactics, establishing who is attacking whom. A higher-ranking Garou does not have to recognize this howl — and he even has the right to “steal the kill” from a lesser werewolf — but most react to a well-executed snarl.
Song of Mockery — Not a howl in its own right, this is more of a pitch, a sort of “sarcastic tone” that Ragabash add to other howls. It is the equivalent of an obscene gesture given alongside a speech.
Symphony of the Abyss — The Black Spiral Dancers whine this insane, reverberating howl as they stalk their prey. Victims who listen too closely can identify the fate that lies in store for them; not knowing that fate is nearly as terrifying.
Wail of Foreboding —The Anthem of War alerts werewolves of an attack, but the Wail of Foreboding is typically used for natural disasters, unusual phenomenon in the Umbra, or anything strange that bears further investigation. A practiced Galliard can give cryptic impressions of what the danger may be.
Warning of the Wyrm’s Approach — A sharp-pitched howl, followed by a series of brief staccato bursts, announces the presence of the Wyrm’s minions. If a scout can scent the true form of these creatures, he may be able to describe it. All who hear the howl can see and feel the foulness that surrounds them.

Fera

When Gaia first created life, She designed the Changing Breeds to keep the world in order. Long before humans walked the earth, She made Her oldest children: the Rokea, to serve Her legacy by surviving at any cost, and the Mokolé, to be Her memory of all that happened. Queen Ananasa, seeing Gaia’s work, soon created her own descendents — the Ananasi — to monitor the balance among the uncorrupted Triat. And, as mammalian life forms began to scramble for a toe-hold among their amphibious and insectoid cousins, Gaia was inspired to
craft children from these new warm-blooded species as well. The Changing Breeds were born.

Gaia gave the newcomers each their own sacred duties. And, when the first groups of Paleolithic tribes began expanding across the world, Gaia blessed Her children with the ability to walk among the humans as one of their own, but charged them with an additional task — preventing this new species from unbalancing the vast web of creation.

Each of Gaia’s children had their own vital role to play. The Apis helped mankind and shapeshifters alike to create healthy and wise children. The Gurahl protected sacred sites and, with the help of the Grondr, healed any harm done to the Earth. The Corax and Camazotz kept watch over the other shapeshifters, and aided them by carrying messages to and from Gaia Herself. The many breeds of Bastet worked together to help coordinate the actions of the other shapeshifters. The Ratkin — Gaia’s last and most potent defense against mankind’s
destructive potential — lived among humanity, watching for problems that might go unnoticed by the other shapeshifters.

The Nuwisha and Nagah seemed at first glance to lack any obvious function, but both filled essential roles. The Nuwisha were tricksters of the most ancient and potent sort, who helped keep the world in balance by giving it a kick at just the right moment. The Nagah had more direct duty, but kept it a carefully guarded secret. They hid in plain sight as dancers, scholars, and harmless eccentrics — and assassinated any who worked against Gaia's interests.

The Garou were the most numerous of the Changing Breeds — and the most egotistical. They protected the world, destroying supernatural horrors that threatened it, and openly hunting down humans who endangered its balance. In time, the werewolves began to consider themselves greater than their shapeshifting cousins, and demanded deference and obedience from those they labeled “Fera” — all of the other Changing Breeds. As Gaia's hunters, they claimed ownership of early human tribes, and instead of guardians and caretakers, the Garou became humanity's masters. Throughout the world, villages of humans bowed down to their lupine masters, or else fell to their unstoppable might.

The Garou drove off any who attempted to interfere with their tyranny. As tensions increased, some werewolf leaders began to denounce the Fera publicly as unnecessary, and privately as threats to Garou power. Eventually, for reasons that the Changing Breeds argue about to this day, Gaia’s Warriors began hunting down and killing all of the rest of Her shapeshifting children.

The War of Rage:
The Garou call this time the War of Rage. For the rest of the Changing Breeds, however, it was nothing short of attempted genocide.

The Rokea escaped Garou attacks by retreating into the sea. Many Corax and Nuwisha took to the Umbra, seeking to avoid their would-be-slayers in the spirit realms. Most of the Gurahl followed, and those who stayed behind went into hibernation, hoping to wait out the Garou’s folly. The Ratkin, and Ananasi hid from the hulking Garou amongst the burgeoning villages of man, relying on stealth to protect themselves, while the Nagah faked their own extinction to escape the werewolves’ wrath. Many of the more martial Changing Breeds attempted to stop the wolves’ tyranny, and as a result, suffered terrible losses.

Both the Apis and the Grondr chose to stand and fight against the lupine oppressors; both were eradicated for their efforts. The Bastet and the Mokolé were able to survive the werewolves’ onslaught — and even answer it in kind — but only at great cost. Across the globe, the blood of Gaia’s children stained the land; losses among the Garou were high, but the other shapeshifters suffered far, far worse.

These battles only ceased when the Garou believed all of the other Changing Breeds to be dead or beaten into submission. By that time, however, the War of Rage had distracted the Garou from both their duties and their domination of humanity. Once the wars had sufficiently depleted the Garou population — and distracted the remainder — mankind broke free from the werewolves’ control.

Without the werewolves’ constant oppression, humanity expanded and learned to defend themselves against supernatural and mortal foes. Within a few centuries, the first true cities sprung up in what would come to be known as the Cradle of Humanity, and eventually, human empires began to grow across the land. By the time the Garou turned their attention back
to their charges, it was far too late to regain control.

The human population had skyrocketed, and their societies were organized and well-defended. The werewolves, weakened by their clash with their shapeshifting cousins, were incapable of stopping the march of human civilization. Mankind had developed bladed weapons as sharp as tooth or claw, slings and bows that attacked from a distance, and armor strong enough to defend against all but the fiercest of Gaia’s warriors. Culling the human herd was no longer an option for the Wolves working alone — and they had alienated or
destroyed all of their supernatural allies.

After the War:
Over the next several thousand years, the Changing Breeds struggled to recover from the devastation, but things would never be the same again.

The War of Rage had transformed the world. Where once Gaia’s children were welcome wherever their duties took them, now humanity remembered the Garou’s tyranny and walled them out. Even amongst the Changing Breeds, territorial lines were clearly marked. Only the Corax, who had quickly renewed their role as spies and messengers for anyone with secrets to share, bridged the war-drawn chasms between the Breeds.

The Garou still dominated what is now known as Europe, and the rest of the Changing Breeds avoided the continent — or hid well enough that the werewolves could not find them. Only a few furtive Ratkin lurked in the shadows of humanity as it began to spread toward the Atlantic, along with the ever elusive Nagah, who continued to ply their lethal business so subtly that no one — not even the sharp-scented Garou — could catch their trail.

Across the Bering Strait, the Garou of North America grew distant from their European brethren, but it did nothing to mend their schism with the other Changing Breeds. Nuwisha travelled from coast to coast, continuing their tricks as they always had, except that now some of Coyote’s Children pretended to be Garou, so that they might pass unmolested among the werewolves who dwelled there. Only a few other shapeshifters dared remain on the continent, carefully hidden from the prying senses of outsiders: the nomadic Pumonca, the isolated Qualmi, and the Rokea who could retreat to the safety of Sea if the Garou came too near.

Centuries passed, with the Fera steadfastly avoiding contact with the Garou in the lands the Wolves held claim to. The werewolves assumed that those parts of the world without wolf populations were the same, but they were entirely wrong. The Mokolé, Balam, and Camazotz controlled the jungles of Central and South America, where the harsh terrain and verdant flora hid them from the Garou. On the Dark Continent, the Ajaba, Mokolé, and several breeds of Bastet likewise found sanctuary in the lush savannah, buffered from Garou intrusion by the northern desert wastelands.

For thousands of years after the War of Rage, different groups and Breeds of shapeshifters each had their own lands and only the occasional brave (or foolish) traveler had contact with shapeshifters in more than one region. Under the Garou’s shepherding, any human technologies that enabled people to travel further and faster had been suppressed, so as to allow the werewolves tighter rein over their “wards”. But as the scales tipped in humanity’s favor, the werewolves’ control faltered, and finally failed.

During the Age of Exploration, human expansion from the Garou’s stronghold in Europe spread out to the rest of the world. As humans migrated, some Garou sought to make a home on other shores, far from the cramped populations of their homelands. Soon European ships ventured out to India, China, and the Americas, and a few Garou accompanied the human sailors.

The Age of Exploration, and the following era of colonialism, brought new disaster for the Changing Breeds. European werewolves fought those native to North America, but these battles were nothing compared to the violence wreaked on the shapeshifters of South America.

Garou were often horrified when they uncovered Fera they had long thought safely extinct. Many Changing Breeds were part of cultures that the hide-bound and insular European Garou found to be strange and terrible. After centuries of battling banes and Fomor in Europe, the Garou conquerors were quick to assume that any shapeshifters they didn't understand must be allied with the Wyrm. This attitude, and the brutal violence that stemmed from it, launched the Garou into a new War of Rage.

Just as the native human populations of Central and South America were devastated by early European expansion, so the Balam, Mokolé, and Camazotz paid a harsh price when the werewolves discovered their presence there. The werejaguars and weresaurians suffered under the Garou’s onslaught, but were able to survive by withdrawing deeper into the jungles and harsh terrain of the land they’d long made their home; the werebats were not so fortunate. Spurred by the assumption that the Camazotz’ webbed wings and batlike features meant
they served the Wyrm, the Shadow Lords who travelled with the Spanish Conquistadors took it upon themselves to hunt down and slaughter the entire Breed.

A century later, western Garou turned their attentions to the Dark Continent, travelling with colonists, explorers, and traders. They saw the Changing Breeds they met there as primitive and were quick to label them Wyrm-servants as well. Some werewolves even sailed on the European slave ships and had any suspected non-Garou Kinfolk tossed overboard as "unfit"
or dangerous. Overwhelmed and outnumbered, the Fera pulled back into the wilderness where they could, relying on the vast expanses of terrain (unfamiliar to the Garou) to prevent all-out slaughter.

These conflicts continued over the next several hundred years, climaxing in the 19th century with the first major battles between European Garou and the Beast Courts. This campaign of bloody violence lasted for many years, fueled by mistrust on both sides.

By the dawn of the 20th century, this new War of Rage was largely over. Even with their numbers greatly reduced and their cultures devastated, however, the Fera were not defeated. During the late 19th and the 20th century, many African and Asian shapeshifters used the human colonial wars of freedom as a cover for their own efforts to strike back against both the Garou and the foreign overlords ravaging their lands. Unfortunately, these Changing Breeds soon learned that once the era of colonialism ended, the new human rulers of their
nations swiftly embraced the most destructive aspects of industrialization — and in a few cases exceeded their previous colonial overlords' talent for environmental devastation.

Ajaba:

Legend among the Ajaba — the werehyenas — is that Gaia created them to perform much the same function in Africa that the Garou performed in the rest of the world. The wolves didn’t want to live on the continent, and so hyenas — also fierce fighters that ran in packs — took up the role of policing the humans and making sure they didn’t grow too numerous. Over time, though, the werehyenas fell to bickering and ended up in a protracted war with the Simba, a war that nearly annihilated their species.

They have rebuilt their numbers in recent years, though, and reestablished a highly matriarchal society that rewards ingenuity and cunning as well as ferocity. They still bear a grudge against the werelions, though they coexist more or less peacefully with the other Fera of Africa.

Ananasi:

The Ananasi are, perhaps, not the most powerful shapeshifters in the world, but they are probably the most disturbing. They are the werespiders, capable of changing into creatures of pure nightmare or a horde of tiny arachnids. The Garou feel that they serve the Wyrm, and the werewolves are not entirely wrong. Some Ananasi do obey the Wyrm, but some take their marching orders from the Weaver and others the Wyld. All of the werespiders, though, serve only one mistress at heart: Their imprisoned Queen, Ananasa.

The Ananasi are solitary, for the most part, and work to free their Queen-Mother from the opal prison in which the Wyrm has trapped her. At times that involves working at cross-purposes to the Garou, while in other instances they aid the werewolves in their fight against the Wyrm. Anasasi fight and kill each other when necessary (spiders are cannibals, after all), but never when doing so would be at odds with their larger fight.

Apis:
The Apis once worked openly with humanity. They were sages, as well as matchmakers. Just as humans bred domestic animals to encourage desirable traits and eliminate flaws, the Apis walked among humanity encouraging relationships that would produce children who were co-operative and wise. They subtly discouraged matches that would produce children inclined to mindless destruction or dangerous foolishness. They also sometimes used this same ability to encourage or discourage matches between humans and shapeshifters, and were well known for being able to predict matches between shapeshifters and Kinfolk (or between two Kinfolk) that would breed true. Their wisdom and peaceful advice were only half of their nature; they could also be fierce and terrible. If anything threatened them or anyone under their protection, Apis could assume their war-form: huge and deadly minotaurs
capable of devouring their enemies and shattering stone with their metal-hard horns.

The Apis’ numbers were savagely reduced during the War of Rage, where they battled the Garou in Europe and the Near East. The Garou gradually pushed the Apis south, as the werewolves struggled to reach Africa. The wereaurochs held the Garou off, but at a horrible price. Only a few of their number survived. For a time, the remaining Apis hoped that their expertise with fertility would allow them to renew their numbers. But between the Garou’s continued predation and the other supernatural and mundane dangers of that ancient time, it quickly became clear that the battle they were fighting would eventually end in their demise. Even for these experts in breeding, there would be no recovery for the Apis. In the end, the last remaining Apis sent their strongest and wisest survivors deep into Umbra to find a final sanctuary, but as the years passed, none returned, and so the Apis died to the last, ignobly, to disease, violence and age.

Bastet:

Subtle and mysterious, the “Eyes of Gaia” keep watch over the mortal world. Very little escapes the curiosity of these werecats, who range in size and power from the skeletal Bubasti to the near-unstoppable Khan. As a rule, the Bastet display a common love of knowledge, adventure, secrets, and carnality. While there must be some few werecats who avoid touch or mischief, typical Bastet are notoriously vain and painfully inquisitive.

Although few werecats spend much time with their own kind, the Bastet have complex myths and social rituals. Their common love and purpose, though, is secrets: every werecat cherishes them, and all Bastet seek to learn and trade new ones whenever possible.

The most common and diverse Changing Breed beyond the Garou themselves, Bastet favor large cats in scope and temperament. Tigers, lynxes, leopards, jaguars, cougars, lions, and other, less obvious species have corresponding shifter kin. In general, a werecat’s physical shape and emotional timbre echo her feline ancestry; a tiger’s monumental grace carries
over into her human aspect, while a skittish Bubasti shares dark coloration and delicate build in every form.

The Nine Tribes of Catkind are:
• The Bagheera – werepanthers and wereleopards who may be the wisest of their kind. Though ruthless in war, these Fera display innate nobility, intellect, and calm. Once drawn mostly from Indian and South Asian ethnicities, this tribe has spread across the world. Of all Bastet, they may now be the most numerous and are certainly the most diverse.
• The Balam, a bloody breed of jaguar-folk who once enjoyed the reverence of South American civilizations but have since been hardened (and nearly exterminated) by the Amazon wars. Until recently, no European, Asian, or African person was good enough to share the Balam inheritance; even now, the tribe is near-universally of South American blood. Necessity and camaraderie, though, have brought a handful of outlanders into the fold, and in recent years this tribe has begun to recover. Old wounds run deep, though, and few creatures hold more bitterness than a grizzled old Balam.
• The Bubasti are an eerie and often despised tribe of sorcerer-cats. Descended from the theoretically extinct cats of Kyphur (an Egyptian species revered as god-avatars), the shadowcats are always hungry: Food, sensation, knowledge — a Bubasti can never get enough of anything. Universally thin and uncannily attractive, these folk have prospered in the information age, and while their typically Middle Eastern heritage marks them for suspicion in a post-9/11 world, their voracious intellect and tastes continue to serve them well. Built
for stealth, not fighting, these are the most delicate cat-folk. In human form, Bubasti have dark skin and hair regardless of their ethnicity; their feline forms resemble large Egyptian cat-statues: midnight black and with no markings of any kind.
• The Ceilican were once thought extinct but are now fairly common. A European breed linked to wildcats, domestic species, and a vanished type of lion, these cats were almost eradicated during the Middle Ages and Renaissance. Justly or otherwise known as “witch-cats,” the Ceilican then hid themselves in plain sight throughout human cities, concealing their existence even from other Bastet. With the New Millennium, however, the tribe’s cosmopolitan affinities have helped them prosper. Their survival is now an open secret, and when other
Bastet need information, they often look for a Ceilican.
• Khan are weretigers, the most formidable of their kind. These “Bright Kings” reach deep into the lore of ancient Asia and India. For millennia, the Khan dominated the courts, temples and jungles of their world; as Muslims and white men carved their empires from those regions, though, they brought true tigers to near-extinction. Born warriors, often too trusting and passionate for their own good, the Khan soon found themselves embroiled in the region’s many wars. Though Modern India and China provide fertile ground for the tribe’s resurgence, Khan tend to take on the world single-handedly… and all too often lose.
• The Pumonca cougar-folk are native to North America and reflect that region’s laconic curiosity. Once known as Storm Walkers, these brawny predators pick off people who’ve grown too evil or careless to survive. When Garou invaders poured into their territories during the conquest of North America, most solitary Pumonca died as well. Recent years have revitalized the tribe; even so, few other Bastet despise werewolves on general principle as the Pumonca do.
• The riddling Qualmi’s lynx ancestry appears in their solid builds and peak-tufted ears. Also native to North America and Scandinavia, these Bastet rarely speak in straightforward terms. Everything is a riddle, a joke, a tall tale, or a surreal narrative that says everything even if it sounds like nothing. Unlike their puma cousins, the Riddle Dancers enjoy the company of wolves, most especially the Uktena, with whom they share ancient bonds. More magical than warlike, these cat-folk enjoy technology, too… especially once they’ve altered it a bit. Supposedly, they shapeshift across other species too, adopting many different forms in order to understand the world more deeply.
Initial Willpower: 5
• The Simba, “Lords of Sunlight,” have leonine ancestry that manifests as power, sociability and arrogance. Supposedly, they once ruled the Nine Tribes by divine right… and even now, most consider themselves to be the brightest stars in the room. Bred from among the bravest and most powerful people, these Bastet have decimated themselves with endless wars. Men, hyena-kin, fomori, and almost anyone else foolish enough to stand face to face with a lion — all have been prey for the Simba, and have often killed the Simba in return. These days, the tribe’s in steep decline… not that any Sun Lord would ever admit as much.
• The fleet Swara are cheetah-folk with a deep secret: like Garou (but unlike most Bastet), they step sideways easily. While catkind generally sticks to the mortal plane, these wanderers pass among spirits, puzzling out the enigmas of the outer worlds. Descended almost entirely from the peoples of sub-Saharan Africa, the Swara avoid people on general principle. These “Silver Folk” favor the Paths of the Moon over mundane concerns, and care little for luxury or home.

Camazotz

The werebats were known as the Ears of Gaia (or ironically, Her Voice). They were messengers, but of a very different sort from the Corax. While Corax are natural gossips, spreading information to everyone willing to listen, the Camazotz were secret messengers. Their Gifts of speed, stealth, and heightened perception made them excellent spies who would keep what they discovered between their allies and Gaia. One of their strengths, as well as one of the major reasons that the Garou feared them, was that it was exceptionally difficult to know if one of the Camazotz was listening to a conversation. Individuals might gather in secret only to learn that as soon as the meeting ended, their enemies knew everything they had said. All that one of the Camazotz needed to observe a scene was for a single tiny bat to hide itself in a corner.

What became the end of the Camazotz was the growing madness of their Totem, the Bat. Bat had originally served Wyrm when it still functioned as the great balance of Gaia, but when the Wyrm was captured and driven mad, the Bat fled. When the Garou hunted and murdered her children in Europe, she tried to protect her last children in South-America blood magic, vile powers she had learned while serving Wyrm. When the Shadow Lords crossed the Atlantic with their Spanish kin, they found the werebats embroiled in the acts of corrupting blood magic in their attempts to defend their kin from the invasion and thought it enough evidence to hunt down every last camazotz remaining. What few remaining, isolated covens of werebats still survived, could not survive their own Totem falling into sorrow and madness and finally, back into the clutches of Wyrm. What little remained of the once noble changing breed, perished when Bat's corruption ate into their minds, bodies and spirit.


Corax:

The wereravens pay attention. They watch, they listen, and they report what they know to those who need it. They ferret out secrets, listen carefully to conversations that shouldn’t be taking place, and learn the weaknesses and strengths of their enemies, friends, casual acquaintances, and whoever happens to be nearby. What they’re learning isn’t as important as that they’re learning.

If not for the War of Rage, they would probably be messengers among Fera, the information network in the war against the Wyrm. They don’t hold nearly as big a grudge for the War of Rage as some of the other Fera, but then, they didn’t suffer nearly as much at the hands of Garou. To be fair, they don’t hold grudges well in general. Corax are too curious, too gregarious, and too interested in everything around them to stay angry. They fly from place to place, through every country and continent, searching out every nugget of information they can learn. Corax can keep secrets, but it isn’t their forte. They’re better at learning them, and then spilling them.

Grondr:

All shapeshifters were created to protect Gaia in one way or another, but the Grondr, the wereboars, had one of the most direct and important roles. Gaia charged them to root out any
taint or poison that might harm the Earth and the life on it. They worked most closely with the Gurahl, removing any sources of corruption before the werebears healed the damage the poisons had caused. While the Gurahl were fierce protectors, the Grondr were warriors who actively sought out threats and destroyed them. From toxins leeching up from underground to infestations of fomori, the Grondr fought all dangers. They were deft and cautious hunters who were careful never to harm Gaia during their work. Despite their brutish appearance, most Grondr had a deep appreciation for beauty and took pride in how striking and lush areas became under their care.

When the Garou attacked the Gurahl during the War of Rage, the Grondr stood with the werebears against the wolves. The Grondr continued to fight when the Gurahl retreated in to hibernation. The wereboars inflicted horrible losses to the Fianna, the Get of Fenris, and the Silver Fangs. The Garou ultimately triumphed and drove the Grondr to their end.

When their numbers were reduced to only a handful, the remaining Grondr found themselves in a desperate situation. And, although no one may ever know the exact details that led to it, the end result is clear: the selfsame Changing Breed once trusted with rooting out the taint of the Wyrm ended up in its service as the now-infamous creatures known as Skull Pigs.

Gurahl:

When one of the Garou starts talking about the War of Rage, someone inevitably brings up the Gurahl. The werebears were, according to most histories on the subject, the first targets of the werewolves. Why they were targeted is a matter of contention, and of course it probably wasn’t one event that started it. The question is moot now in any case; the werebears still live, but only just. Their skills as the healers of Gaia are sorely needed, and there just aren’t enough of them to do the job.

The Gurahl survived the War of Rage by retreating and falling into slumber in the Umbra. They awoke when Europeans came to the New World, bringing death to the natives (deliberately or otherwise), but with their Kinfolk diminished from centuries of absence, they were unable to do much to stem the tide.

At least they were awake again, and were able to begin rebuilding their numbers. Today, they are still trying to make up this shortfall, to breed and train enough Gurahl to make a difference in the Final Battle. This would be easier, of course, if they didn’t have to worry that the Garou will slaughter them again, but they just can’t be certain of that.

Kitsune:

The werefoxes are the youngest of the Fera, created by Gaia with no purpose in mind, or so the story goes. Through a meeting with Gaia and Luna that nearly ended in her destruction, Bai Mianxi, the first Kitsune, gained a purpose for her people — to assassinate and raise up leaders, and thus to guide the fate of nations. In return for their service, Gaia promised that the werefoxes would survive the Apocalypse.

The Kitsune are not warriors or berserkers like many of the other Fera. They are cunning, mystical and clever, surviving by their wits rather than by sheer strength and regeneration. They are much more fragile than the other breeds, but they occupy a special place in their native Asian cultures —known as tricksters, they are revered as much as feared.

Mokolé:

The Mokolé are Gaia’s memory, the monsters of the primordial past. Their animal forms are alligators, crocodiles, Komodo dragons, and gila monsters, but their war forms are saurian monsters — amalgams of creatures that died out millions of years ago. The Mokolé remember the dinosaurs, and carry the stories and lore of the Lizard Kings into the Final Days.

Once human civilization falls — and it will, for it is merely a brief aberration as the Mokolé reckon time — then the great kings will arise from the wastelands and rule once more. The werelizards don’t want the Apocalypse to happen, necessarily, but they are more than prepared for what will follow the Final Battle.

The Mokolé band together in clutches, and gather in wallows, usually in areas where humans and reptiles can co-exist. They don’t seek out the company of other Fera (which they call Bête), but some of the younger weresaurids are willing to speak with them on peaceful terms. Not the older Mokolé, though — they remember the War of Rage, and to them, it might as
well have been yesterday.

Nagah:

The wereserpents, as far as most of the Fera are aware, are dancers. The very few legends that speak of them talk of the Nagah swaying to and fro, performing some sinister ritual with their sinuous bodies. The other Fera wiped them out in the War of Rage, and now the Garou wonder what the world might be missing for the Nagah’s absence.

Of course, the Nagah aren’t dead, they simply slithered into the Umbra and waited for the War to end. They perform the same function they always have — they kill those that need to die, acting as judge and executioner in the name of Gaia.

The Nagah travel in groups of two or three, choosing their targets and executing them carefully. Sometimes their work brings them into conflict with Garou or other Fera, but they have centuries of practice in remaining out of sight. Who knows what the Garou might do if they discover that the Nagah still live and that, occasionally, the wereserpents feel a werewolf has to die?

Nuwisha:

In Native American legend, Coyote created the world out of a ball of dirt (or blood, depending on who’s telling the story). If you ask the Nuwisha, it’s absolutely true. Coyote is fully capable of that kind of thing, and he could even help the Wyrm get its sanity back…if only it would ask. The werecoyotes are Gaia’s tricksters and pranksters, but their pranks aren’t really meant to be funny. They’re meant to be memorable object lessons, and the Nuwisha excel at making an impression.

Only a hundred Nuwisha walk the world at any given time. The rest wait in the spirit world as part of a camp called the Umbral Danse. The hundred that still live on Earth spend their time teaching harsh lessons, often involving explosives, gravity and mistaken identity.

Ratkin:

Desperate situations require desperate methods. The Ratkin instinctively know the world is dying from the Wyrm’s corruption, but also from the Weaver’s stagnation, overpopulation, and rampant technology. Survival at any cost requires radical action and visionary thinking, both fueled by the raw power of the Wyld. There is no hope of regaining balance on this planet; as a result, wererats are notoriously unbalanced, unpredictable, and often unstable. For the children of Rat, violent revolution and powerful urban magic are the best hope for thriving in a world gone mad.

Rat is a totem of war, so these feral, twitchy little beasties have become masters of guerrilla warfare, using everything from outbreaks of disease to stockpiled ammunition from modern militias. Small packs of Ratkin rampage across all five continents, leaving a trail of chaos, crime, and killing in their wake. When life is Hell, however, they bolt to where they can lurk, hide, and heal. Larger colonies burrow deeper, breeding and scheming as they prepare for war against human civilization. Living among humans, isolated wererats find revelations in distorted dreams and bursts of temporary insanity. Their war for the fate of the world never ends, and each time one dies, hateful relations are ready to take his place. When the Garou
can’t find a reasonable way to save the world, Ratkin use their own extreme methods, often with horrific results.

Rokea:

Hearing legends of weresharks might be amusing to someone who has lived his life far from the oceans, but islander people have traded stories of such creatures for centuries. Sharks that walk as men appeared in legendry as vicious killers, ruthless pranksters, and uncaring predators. The Rokea, the shark-changers, can be all of these, but their Gaia-granted purpose is far simpler: The Rokea are meant simply to endure.

The Rokea predate the other Fera, even the Mokole, by millions of years. They do not naturally die — unless something kills a Rokea, it simply keeps swimming as long as Sea exists. However, the Rokea are just as endangered as any of the Fera. Some decades ago, a nuclear explosion nearly wiped out their species, and since then the weresharks have been waging an internal war on the “betweeners,” those Rokea who dare to venture on land.

Beast Courts - The Hengeyokai

Most western shapeshifters know little about the relatively isolated shapeshifters who make up the Beast Courts of Asia. Known to themselves as hengeyokai, they live in communities that include all manner of local Changing Breeds, including the Garou — an arrangement that baffles and sometimes horrifies western shapeshifters. As contact between East and West increases, immigrants and visitors from both the Beast Courts and the western world have begun learning more about one another.

The Asian Changing Breeds are physically the same as their western counterparts, however, their culture and history is very different.

In the Middle Kingdom, the traditional protectorate of the Beast Courts, Wyrm-tainted creatures called the Kuei-Jin tricked the Changing Breeds into what is now referred to as the War of Shame. The war wiped out the Okuma, Gurahl who took the form of Asian bears, and because of it, the Kumo (Asian werespiders) retreated from the other shapeshifters, eventually giving themselves over to the Wyrm.

The surviving Breeds eventually learned of the Kuei-Jin’s treachery and rallied together against this threat. Since this time, the Changing Breeds have worked together. Surprisingly, this arrangement has been quite successful; it is not uncommon for the hengeyokai to even form packs, or sentai, that include different Breeds. Perhaps even more notably, the normally secretive Nagah actually share information in the Beast Courts of the Emerald Mother, and have been known to join sentai with other shapeshifters.

To outsiders, the politics of the Beast Courts can appear slow and hobbled with layers of ancient tradition. In truth, however, the careful formality defuses conflict between court members with a measure of elegance not found in traditional challenges. As a result, most hengeyokai feel more loyalty to their court than they do to their own Breed of shapeshifter. Individual courts may fight, and even wage war against one another, but their strict rules of behavior ensure that the hengeyokai will never experience the madness of another War of Shame.

Because East and Southeast Asia have been densely populated for thousands of years, the hengeyokai live in closer proximity to both their wild Kin and to humanity than elsewhere. As a result the Beast Courts make some accommodations for their population density. The hengeyokai have far more in the way of central organization than any of the western Changing Breeds, which provides a set of strict rules to help them avoid detection. Like an inhuman mirror of the traditional Chinese form of government, the shapeshifters of the Middle Kingdom also have their own complex bureaucracy and offices.