You stand at the edge of the abyss.
Before you a gate to Hell is opened, a swirling wound in...
Before you a gate to Hell is opened, a swirling wound in...
The Choice of the White Howlers (Werewolf the Apocalypse)
- Thread starter ganonso
- Start date
-
- Tags
- apocalypse
- Created
- Status
- Ongoing
- Watchers
- 37
- Recent readers
- 0
- Threadmarks
- 12
-
Statistics (12 threadmarks, 5.3k words)
User Total ganonso 12 Threadmarks Reader mode
Introduction
ganonso
Compulsive Quest Starter
- Location
- PACA France
You stand at the edge of the abyss.
Before you a gate to Hell is opened, a swirling wound in reality whose corruption assaults your sense. You see it changing colors, alternating the yellow-green of infected blood with hues that shouldn't even exist. You see its surface bubbling and receding as the sea when a great beast surges to the surface. Sigils around the portal infect the air with their foulness as your ears are filled with a strange song: a discordant melody of flutes and drums mingled with the sighs of the damned. Yet the place is oddly pure. The walls, the grounds are of blackish ordinary stone, not pulsating flesh. No great Bane, no twisted Fomorii guards, not even traitors of your own blood stand to protect this access to the Unmaker's domain. The gate is open, daring you to walk its threshold, to confront the dragon in its very lair.
Ill-times have befallen you, the White Howlers of Gaïa. Half-man, half-wolf and half-spirit you were created to hunt and slay the forces of corruption. Yours is the fury, yours is the Rage. Your Tribe protected by Lion is the greatest and the fiercest, you survived the Ice Age in frozen Caledonia, you ruled the moors and the forests beyond what is now Hadrian's wall. Now you are defeated in flesh and in spirit. Rome's legions are driven you from the southern lands. The Unmaker's chosen have defiled your lands and your people, twisting children in the womb and crops in the earth. Your people, your Kinfolk now bow to dark forces, shed blood for their crops' health and sacrifice to the Crom Cruach and its vile worm-brood.
Yet before you lies the solution to all your problems. A portal to Malfeas, to the heart of the Wyrm of Corruption's dark domain where you can follow to slay it. You can ride through it. Show the monsters inside the fury of the Garou, fall upon them with claws and klaive and fangs before returning them to the darkness. Even if you don't fell the Wyrm itself, you are confident your whole tribe can slaugther its generals and most powerful servants.
Some have doubts of course. They point out the passage looks too inviting. They see nine waterfalls going to everlasting darkness, nine coils of a serpent coiled around itself, nine turns of a crooked path of obsidian, nine ways to a maze of shifting perceptions. They say that the Defiler will have dominion over you, that Rage once drove you to slay your brethren and other rash actions. They say that for all that fall under the Wyrm's shadow Death is not the worse thing, death is a cup that could very well be denied to you even as you beg to taste it.
No help will come. You ask the Tribes, you ask the Auspices and only negative answers came through. All of them the Fianna and the Get and the Fangs, the Singers, the Warriors, the Seers, the Scouts and the Judges tell you to close this gate and forget about it, to not brave the beast in its putrescent lair dreaming about victories. They will help you purify your land, they will help you hunt the corrupted spirits that stalk it. They will not commit packs to possible damnation.
Beyond the portal, the Black Spiral beckons. Around the portal stands the whole of your tribe. Towards which direction will you turn? Will you dance the Nine Circles? Will you heed the call of wisdom? What will you do?
[] Lead your tribe along the circles of the Black Spiral hoping to slay the Wyrm in its lair
[] Convince your tribemates to heed the warnings and close the portal before it's too late.
Before you a gate to Hell is opened, a swirling wound in reality whose corruption assaults your sense. You see it changing colors, alternating the yellow-green of infected blood with hues that shouldn't even exist. You see its surface bubbling and receding as the sea when a great beast surges to the surface. Sigils around the portal infect the air with their foulness as your ears are filled with a strange song: a discordant melody of flutes and drums mingled with the sighs of the damned. Yet the place is oddly pure. The walls, the grounds are of blackish ordinary stone, not pulsating flesh. No great Bane, no twisted Fomorii guards, not even traitors of your own blood stand to protect this access to the Unmaker's domain. The gate is open, daring you to walk its threshold, to confront the dragon in its very lair.
Ill-times have befallen you, the White Howlers of Gaïa. Half-man, half-wolf and half-spirit you were created to hunt and slay the forces of corruption. Yours is the fury, yours is the Rage. Your Tribe protected by Lion is the greatest and the fiercest, you survived the Ice Age in frozen Caledonia, you ruled the moors and the forests beyond what is now Hadrian's wall. Now you are defeated in flesh and in spirit. Rome's legions are driven you from the southern lands. The Unmaker's chosen have defiled your lands and your people, twisting children in the womb and crops in the earth. Your people, your Kinfolk now bow to dark forces, shed blood for their crops' health and sacrifice to the Crom Cruach and its vile worm-brood.
Yet before you lies the solution to all your problems. A portal to Malfeas, to the heart of the Wyrm of Corruption's dark domain where you can follow to slay it. You can ride through it. Show the monsters inside the fury of the Garou, fall upon them with claws and klaive and fangs before returning them to the darkness. Even if you don't fell the Wyrm itself, you are confident your whole tribe can slaugther its generals and most powerful servants.
Some have doubts of course. They point out the passage looks too inviting. They see nine waterfalls going to everlasting darkness, nine coils of a serpent coiled around itself, nine turns of a crooked path of obsidian, nine ways to a maze of shifting perceptions. They say that the Defiler will have dominion over you, that Rage once drove you to slay your brethren and other rash actions. They say that for all that fall under the Wyrm's shadow Death is not the worse thing, death is a cup that could very well be denied to you even as you beg to taste it.
No help will come. You ask the Tribes, you ask the Auspices and only negative answers came through. All of them the Fianna and the Get and the Fangs, the Singers, the Warriors, the Seers, the Scouts and the Judges tell you to close this gate and forget about it, to not brave the beast in its putrescent lair dreaming about victories. They will help you purify your land, they will help you hunt the corrupted spirits that stalk it. They will not commit packs to possible damnation.
Beyond the portal, the Black Spiral beckons. Around the portal stands the whole of your tribe. Towards which direction will you turn? Will you dance the Nine Circles? Will you heed the call of wisdom? What will you do?
[] Lead your tribe along the circles of the Black Spiral hoping to slay the Wyrm in its lair
[] Convince your tribemates to heed the warnings and close the portal before it's too late.
Choice of Curse
ganonso
Compulsive Quest Starter
- Location
- PACA France
ok so The White Howlers will stay the White Howlers
Now the Wyrm is kinda pissed off you turned its generous offer and so will curse you
Choose one of these
[] Tainted! The Wyrm wants you for its armies and will spare no expense to accomplish this goal. The curse make your entire tribe reeks of the Wyrm (in a manner slightly different from ordinary Wyrm-Taint so the other tribes will not exterminate you on sight). The servants of the Wyrm will hesitate to strike for you are destined to another fate
Cons: You are detectable to Sense Wyrm and register as "tainted yet not tainted"' Garou of other tribes succumbing to frenzy in your presence will sometimes attack you in their Rage. Members of your tribes that go to the Wyrm are less detectable.
Pros: Unintelligent servants of the Wyrm will consider you as an ally or a master if no intelligent creature is present. Every intelligent servant of the Wyrm from the merest bane lords to the Maeljin Incarnae will try to corrupt you and will resort to violence against you in last ressort (they still can and will target your entourage but the werewolves of the Howlers will not be harmed if they can help it).
[] Aligned with the Dark Umbra. The Wyrm has somehow infected your links with the Underworld. All Caern (passage with the spirit world) you build are gateways to the Underworld now and spirits will hesitate to come to your aid. However your ties with ghosts are increased beyond even the Silent Striders and strange spirits grant you their patronage.
Cons: Gnosis (spiritual energy) recuperation feels strange as you absorb it from the Underworld rather than the Middle Umbra. Your caerns are now holes in the shroud and are haunted. While Gaïan spirits still patron packs they are not able to sanctify your Caerns anymore. Any Caerns you take the guardianship of switches his destination over time.
Pros: As creatures of great power, Wraiths tend to obey your commands. Spectres avoid you like the plague. Geists, hybrids ghost spirits are disponible as pack and sept totems. You can step sideways in the Dark or Middle Umbra at your leisure. Owl and other spirits of death LOVE you very much.
[] Wyrmfoe: The Wyrm hates you. No correction the Wyrm HATES you, if the word hate was inscribed on each blade of grass of Scotland, that wouldn't equal to a drop in the ocean of hatred the Unmaker feels for you. Even the slyest servants of the Urge of Lies will not rest before you are broken, dead, defeated, dead, agonizing and have I mentioned dead, very dead.
Cons: Every Wyrm Creature that crawls, walk or fly has a massive hate-boner for you. If you are in a multi-tribe offensive or defence they will focus on you first. Prepare yourself to undending war as every tainted mage, fae, vampire or shifter is gunning to your head.
Pros: Garou and EVERY OTHER SHIFTER NOT ALIGNED WITH THE WYRM LOVES YOU. You are granted the first place in every gathering, you are the most renowed tribe and are noted for being uncorruptible. Mostly due to the fact that no Wyrm creature will ever seek to corrupt you into service. They are too busy trying to kill you.
Now the Wyrm is kinda pissed off you turned its generous offer and so will curse you
Choose one of these
[] Tainted! The Wyrm wants you for its armies and will spare no expense to accomplish this goal. The curse make your entire tribe reeks of the Wyrm (in a manner slightly different from ordinary Wyrm-Taint so the other tribes will not exterminate you on sight). The servants of the Wyrm will hesitate to strike for you are destined to another fate
Cons: You are detectable to Sense Wyrm and register as "tainted yet not tainted"' Garou of other tribes succumbing to frenzy in your presence will sometimes attack you in their Rage. Members of your tribes that go to the Wyrm are less detectable.
Pros: Unintelligent servants of the Wyrm will consider you as an ally or a master if no intelligent creature is present. Every intelligent servant of the Wyrm from the merest bane lords to the Maeljin Incarnae will try to corrupt you and will resort to violence against you in last ressort (they still can and will target your entourage but the werewolves of the Howlers will not be harmed if they can help it).
[] Aligned with the Dark Umbra. The Wyrm has somehow infected your links with the Underworld. All Caern (passage with the spirit world) you build are gateways to the Underworld now and spirits will hesitate to come to your aid. However your ties with ghosts are increased beyond even the Silent Striders and strange spirits grant you their patronage.
Cons: Gnosis (spiritual energy) recuperation feels strange as you absorb it from the Underworld rather than the Middle Umbra. Your caerns are now holes in the shroud and are haunted. While Gaïan spirits still patron packs they are not able to sanctify your Caerns anymore. Any Caerns you take the guardianship of switches his destination over time.
Pros: As creatures of great power, Wraiths tend to obey your commands. Spectres avoid you like the plague. Geists, hybrids ghost spirits are disponible as pack and sept totems. You can step sideways in the Dark or Middle Umbra at your leisure. Owl and other spirits of death LOVE you very much.
[] Wyrmfoe: The Wyrm hates you. No correction the Wyrm HATES you, if the word hate was inscribed on each blade of grass of Scotland, that wouldn't equal to a drop in the ocean of hatred the Unmaker feels for you. Even the slyest servants of the Urge of Lies will not rest before you are broken, dead, defeated, dead, agonizing and have I mentioned dead, very dead.
Cons: Every Wyrm Creature that crawls, walk or fly has a massive hate-boner for you. If you are in a multi-tribe offensive or defence they will focus on you first. Prepare yourself to undending war as every tainted mage, fae, vampire or shifter is gunning to your head.
Pros: Garou and EVERY OTHER SHIFTER NOT ALIGNED WITH THE WYRM LOVES YOU. You are granted the first place in every gathering, you are the most renowed tribe and are noted for being uncorruptible. Mostly due to the fact that no Wyrm creature will ever seek to corrupt you into service. They are too busy trying to kill you.
Werewolf Summary
ganonso
Compulsive Quest Starter
- Location
- PACA France
Ok so Wyrmfoe it is.
Now let's discuss you future White Howlers leader. But before, some explanations on familiar or not so familiar Werewolf Concepts (and some changes
The Breeds
Contrary to others Prodigals, werewolves are born and not made even if exceptions happen. The Garou can bite someone to pass a curse or even a blessing but this act results rarely in the transmission of lycanthropy, save if the subject carried the potential to become a shifter in the first place. Three breeds exist representing the different partners a werewolf can take as the mating of werewolves produce no offspring.
First and most numerous are the Hishim, the human-born. They are the default werewolwes in most part and they are still growing while the wolf-born are wasting away. This is not to say that to be a Hishu is all honey and roses however. Even discounting the obvious problems with a population who is unable to change for at least ten years the Wolf is relatively weak for the human-born. They are drawn towards Flesh and most begin their lives with difficulty to enter the Shadow of the world or even shift shapes.
For the most part the Uranhim, the wolf-born are the contrary of the human-born. They are rare and their numbers are not easily replenished. However, they are respected despite their rarity for the Wolf is naturally strong in them and most things that the human-born must learn are natural for them. (Granted most things the human born consider as natural are learned with difficulty by the wolfing) It is not surprising that the weakness of the Uranhim is the mirror of their cousins, they are driven to Spirit and their form can melt into quicksilver as they lose control of their abilities.
The third breed is perhaps the strangest for these werewolves are not borne by a woman or a she-wolves but a spirit. This strange parentage create werewolves with the markings of spirits. This is not as good at it can seem. Of course, the Ulehim natural form is the half-wolf half-man Gauru and they are frightening fighters with powers besotted by their spirit parent. However, in the material world, in which they must stay if they do not want to become pure spirits, they are deformed and cannot hide their supernatural natures. They are also sterile and even the prodigious fecundity of the spirits cannot help them.
The Auspices
Each werewolf is marked by a phase of the moon. Contrary to the tribe or the prey, this characteristic is not chosen (even if some rituals can be used to destroy or change one's auspice). Each Auspice is linked to traditional roles or some character traits but these can vary from tribes to tribes or even from pack to pack. It is considered to be a good omen for a pack to include all five auspices and even human or Kinfolk members can use magic some measure of an Auspice.
Each werewolf is a warrior but only the Rahim, the warriors of the Full Moon can understand the full scope of the war. In a culture of hunters, the Full Moon wants a fight, she does not just want to harry the prey and tear his throat, and she wants the prey to fight back and to offer a challenge. Even if they are honored and are often the de-facto leaders of their packs when open battle comes, the Warriors are not really envied for even others werewolves can see the Rage that bubbles in them and threatens to overcome them at the most inopportune moment. As the foremost warriors of the Emerald Mother, the Full Moons follow the call of Purity and even mortals can empathize with their instinctive reject of corruption.
Each werewolf is beloved by her silver mother but only the Cahalithim, the singers of the Gibbous Moon can sense her talking to them in their dreams, filling their nights with dread and wonders. In a culture of hunters, the Gibbous Moon wants the prey to know she's here, to become terrified with her coming or enter willingly into the legend. The Gibbous Moon have an essential role in their packs for it is they that rise spirits and assure the pack is one in goal. Another is to declare targets based on the bits on magic Luna shows them. They follow the call of Glory and live to sing the deeds of the People to high heavens and dark hells alike.
Each werewolf stands at the crossroad between conflicting realities, but only the Elodothim, the judges of the Half Moon, can understand what it is to stand between wolf and man, spirit and flesh, and being unable to make a choice, to understand that in some cases making a choice is not possible or worth wishing. In a culture of hunters, the Half-Moon longs to understand her prey without pitying it. She will throw anything and anyone to the prey if after that the pack can move for the kill. The Half Moons have many roles in their packs but they can be those who assure that the werewolves cleave to both worlds rather than just one. They follow the call of Honor and try to maintain the balance of Harmony in them and others.
Each werewolf knows the madness of the spirit world, but only the Ithaeurim, the shamans of the Crescent Moon can understand what it is to walk among unseen intelligences and understand them as much as they understand mortals, nay, to understand them more than they understand mortal flesh. In a culture of hunters, the Crescent Moons harry their chosen prey in both worlds, clouding its senses until it can no longer be sure if they see the world of flesh or the world of spirit. The shamans are essential in a pack for they create the artifacts and rituals the whole pack will use in their hunts. They bind spirits to prisons of bone and rock and work to purify the places they befouled. They are priests and honor the spirits while forcing them to honor the wolves in return. They follow the call of Wisdom and exist to preach restraint to a people whose blood is fire.
Each werewolf stalks her prey by moonlight but only the Irakkim, the stalkers of the New Moon can really understand the pleasure of the hunt, what it is to walk unseen and tail an unsuspecting prey, savoring the chase rather than the kill but also what it is to be a lone wolf, part of the pack but fighting alone to protect them. In a culture of hunters, the New Moons harry their prey in perfect silence, letting the quarry continue with his life, indulging in carnal or chemical pleasures before being struck down by the hunter. The stalkers are invaluable in a pack for they can find what threaten their companions and attack it preemptively. They are scouts that wander the countryside ahead of their packs. They are assassins that stalk the night seeking their prey. They are questioner of all ways and traditions eschewing honor to embrace Cunning. They teach the People that sometimes the crooked path is the best.
Now let's discuss you future White Howlers leader. But before, some explanations on familiar or not so familiar Werewolf Concepts (and some changes
The Breeds
Contrary to others Prodigals, werewolves are born and not made even if exceptions happen. The Garou can bite someone to pass a curse or even a blessing but this act results rarely in the transmission of lycanthropy, save if the subject carried the potential to become a shifter in the first place. Three breeds exist representing the different partners a werewolf can take as the mating of werewolves produce no offspring.
First and most numerous are the Hishim, the human-born. They are the default werewolwes in most part and they are still growing while the wolf-born are wasting away. This is not to say that to be a Hishu is all honey and roses however. Even discounting the obvious problems with a population who is unable to change for at least ten years the Wolf is relatively weak for the human-born. They are drawn towards Flesh and most begin their lives with difficulty to enter the Shadow of the world or even shift shapes.
For the most part the Uranhim, the wolf-born are the contrary of the human-born. They are rare and their numbers are not easily replenished. However, they are respected despite their rarity for the Wolf is naturally strong in them and most things that the human-born must learn are natural for them. (Granted most things the human born consider as natural are learned with difficulty by the wolfing) It is not surprising that the weakness of the Uranhim is the mirror of their cousins, they are driven to Spirit and their form can melt into quicksilver as they lose control of their abilities.
The third breed is perhaps the strangest for these werewolves are not borne by a woman or a she-wolves but a spirit. This strange parentage create werewolves with the markings of spirits. This is not as good at it can seem. Of course, the Ulehim natural form is the half-wolf half-man Gauru and they are frightening fighters with powers besotted by their spirit parent. However, in the material world, in which they must stay if they do not want to become pure spirits, they are deformed and cannot hide their supernatural natures. They are also sterile and even the prodigious fecundity of the spirits cannot help them.
The Auspices
Each werewolf is marked by a phase of the moon. Contrary to the tribe or the prey, this characteristic is not chosen (even if some rituals can be used to destroy or change one's auspice). Each Auspice is linked to traditional roles or some character traits but these can vary from tribes to tribes or even from pack to pack. It is considered to be a good omen for a pack to include all five auspices and even human or Kinfolk members can use magic some measure of an Auspice.
Each werewolf is a warrior but only the Rahim, the warriors of the Full Moon can understand the full scope of the war. In a culture of hunters, the Full Moon wants a fight, she does not just want to harry the prey and tear his throat, and she wants the prey to fight back and to offer a challenge. Even if they are honored and are often the de-facto leaders of their packs when open battle comes, the Warriors are not really envied for even others werewolves can see the Rage that bubbles in them and threatens to overcome them at the most inopportune moment. As the foremost warriors of the Emerald Mother, the Full Moons follow the call of Purity and even mortals can empathize with their instinctive reject of corruption.
Each werewolf is beloved by her silver mother but only the Cahalithim, the singers of the Gibbous Moon can sense her talking to them in their dreams, filling their nights with dread and wonders. In a culture of hunters, the Gibbous Moon wants the prey to know she's here, to become terrified with her coming or enter willingly into the legend. The Gibbous Moon have an essential role in their packs for it is they that rise spirits and assure the pack is one in goal. Another is to declare targets based on the bits on magic Luna shows them. They follow the call of Glory and live to sing the deeds of the People to high heavens and dark hells alike.
Each werewolf stands at the crossroad between conflicting realities, but only the Elodothim, the judges of the Half Moon, can understand what it is to stand between wolf and man, spirit and flesh, and being unable to make a choice, to understand that in some cases making a choice is not possible or worth wishing. In a culture of hunters, the Half-Moon longs to understand her prey without pitying it. She will throw anything and anyone to the prey if after that the pack can move for the kill. The Half Moons have many roles in their packs but they can be those who assure that the werewolves cleave to both worlds rather than just one. They follow the call of Honor and try to maintain the balance of Harmony in them and others.
Each werewolf knows the madness of the spirit world, but only the Ithaeurim, the shamans of the Crescent Moon can understand what it is to walk among unseen intelligences and understand them as much as they understand mortals, nay, to understand them more than they understand mortal flesh. In a culture of hunters, the Crescent Moons harry their chosen prey in both worlds, clouding its senses until it can no longer be sure if they see the world of flesh or the world of spirit. The shamans are essential in a pack for they create the artifacts and rituals the whole pack will use in their hunts. They bind spirits to prisons of bone and rock and work to purify the places they befouled. They are priests and honor the spirits while forcing them to honor the wolves in return. They follow the call of Wisdom and exist to preach restraint to a people whose blood is fire.
Each werewolf stalks her prey by moonlight but only the Irakkim, the stalkers of the New Moon can really understand the pleasure of the hunt, what it is to walk unseen and tail an unsuspecting prey, savoring the chase rather than the kill but also what it is to be a lone wolf, part of the pack but fighting alone to protect them. In a culture of hunters, the New Moons harry their prey in perfect silence, letting the quarry continue with his life, indulging in carnal or chemical pleasures before being struck down by the hunter. The stalkers are invaluable in a pack for they can find what threaten their companions and attack it preemptively. They are scouts that wander the countryside ahead of their packs. They are assassins that stalk the night seeking their prey. They are questioner of all ways and traditions eschewing honor to embrace Cunning. They teach the People that sometimes the crooked path is the best.
Character Creation
ganonso
Compulsive Quest Starter
- Location
- PACA France
Gender (Choose 1)
[] Male
[] Female
[] Both
[] Neither
Breed (Choose 1)
[] Human-Born
[] Spirit-Born
[] Wolf Born
Auspice (Choose 1)
[] No-Moon: The Tricksters/The Scouts
[] Crescent Moon: The Shamans
[] Half Moon: The Judges/The Priests
[] Gibbous Moon: The Singer/The Diplomats
[] Full Moon: The Warriors
[] Male
[] Female
[] Both
[] Neither
Breed (Choose 1)
[] Human-Born
[] Spirit-Born
[] Wolf Born
Auspice (Choose 1)
[] No-Moon: The Tricksters/The Scouts
[] Crescent Moon: The Shamans
[] Half Moon: The Judges/The Priests
[] Gibbous Moon: The Singer/The Diplomats
[] Full Moon: The Warriors
Totem
ganonso
Compulsive Quest Starter
- Location
- PACA France
So you are an hermaphrodic Homid Full Moon
Last choice is your totem the Spirit that protects you your pack. Each of them has a Ban you must respect
[] Lioness
The totem of your very tribe, Lion is the incarnation of the cave lion of old, a force mighty enough to terrify humanity even millenias after her passing. To be protected by the Lioness is to be granted strength in close combat and great honor
Benefits: 1 free dot in Melee or Brawl. Three times a day you can issue a great Roar that terrify every tainted creature who hears it
Ban: You must protect all White Howlers Kin even if they are from a different tribe. Even if they turn against you (but not to the Wyrm) you must ensure their wellbeing.
[] Green Dragon
Great and powerful the Green Dragon is the lord of all warriors. His pride knows no bound and his prowess in battle is sung by all the tribes. He grants to his protege some of his terrible flame to wear but demands from them the same suicidal courage that almost damned you.
Benefits: Three times a day you can breathe fire on your ennemies.
Ban: You must never run from a fight or refuse a direct challenge.
[] Caern Rattler
Caern-Rattler is a ghostly spirit of times and peoples long-past. It appears as an amorphous human-like figure, shrouded in a decaying winding sheet that obscures its features from view. Unlike an individual ancestor spirit, Caern-Rattler embodies the knowledge of all of those who have gone before, the wisdom and experiences of countless previous generations.
Benefits: You have three dots of Ancestors. You can, while meditating, seek the memory of your tribe to learn new Gifts, Special gifts of necromancy.
Ban : You must offer funeral rites to all you come across. Even Wyrm servants must be cleansed and sent on their way.
[] Kelpie
Not all battles are won through might; Kelpie teaches how to use an enemy's own desires as the best weapon against it. While its natural form is that of a gorgeous water horse, Kelpie can also become invisible, or appear as a beautiful human to seduce and then destroy its enemies. It tempts its victims into clambering on its back in horse form, or into its arms as a human, before dragging them down to a watery grave.
Benefits: You can breathe underwater and gain one dot of Appearance
Ban: You must cleanse every polluted waterway. You must also bathe every month in a natural spring of water.
Last choice is your totem the Spirit that protects you your pack. Each of them has a Ban you must respect
[] Lioness
The totem of your very tribe, Lion is the incarnation of the cave lion of old, a force mighty enough to terrify humanity even millenias after her passing. To be protected by the Lioness is to be granted strength in close combat and great honor
Benefits: 1 free dot in Melee or Brawl. Three times a day you can issue a great Roar that terrify every tainted creature who hears it
Ban: You must protect all White Howlers Kin even if they are from a different tribe. Even if they turn against you (but not to the Wyrm) you must ensure their wellbeing.
[] Green Dragon
Great and powerful the Green Dragon is the lord of all warriors. His pride knows no bound and his prowess in battle is sung by all the tribes. He grants to his protege some of his terrible flame to wear but demands from them the same suicidal courage that almost damned you.
Benefits: Three times a day you can breathe fire on your ennemies.
Ban: You must never run from a fight or refuse a direct challenge.
[] Caern Rattler
Caern-Rattler is a ghostly spirit of times and peoples long-past. It appears as an amorphous human-like figure, shrouded in a decaying winding sheet that obscures its features from view. Unlike an individual ancestor spirit, Caern-Rattler embodies the knowledge of all of those who have gone before, the wisdom and experiences of countless previous generations.
Benefits: You have three dots of Ancestors. You can, while meditating, seek the memory of your tribe to learn new Gifts, Special gifts of necromancy.
Ban : You must offer funeral rites to all you come across. Even Wyrm servants must be cleansed and sent on their way.
[] Kelpie
Not all battles are won through might; Kelpie teaches how to use an enemy's own desires as the best weapon against it. While its natural form is that of a gorgeous water horse, Kelpie can also become invisible, or appear as a beautiful human to seduce and then destroy its enemies. It tempts its victims into clambering on its back in horse form, or into its arms as a human, before dragging them down to a watery grave.
Benefits: You can breathe underwater and gain one dot of Appearance
Ban: You must cleanse every polluted waterway. You must also bathe every month in a natural spring of water.
Ritual approaches
ganonso
Compulsive Quest Starter
- Location
- PACA France
Ok so your Totem is Caern Rattler
While I draw up your pack choose 1
[] We will close this gate alone, by the power of our own tribe. Ours shall be the glory, ours shall be the legend forever and ever.
[] Our fellows tribes refused us because they judged our venture folly and rightly so. Now that our course is set rght anew, perhaps they will join us in our mighty quest.
While I draw up your pack choose 1
[] We will close this gate alone, by the power of our own tribe. Ours shall be the glory, ours shall be the legend forever and ever.
[] Our fellows tribes refused us because they judged our venture folly and rightly so. Now that our course is set rght anew, perhaps they will join us in our mighty quest.
The Great Refusal
ganonso
Compulsive Quest Starter
- Location
- PACA France
The black room is now filled with many packs. You are not sure that in your long life, you've seen so many werewolves gathered in one place. There are packs of your own White's Howlers of course, great Crescent Moons grizzled by their constant contact with the Underworld. However you are nearly in the minority as representatives of the other fifteen tribes are there. Fianna brothers laughing and smiling while they sip the contents of their skins, a female Child of Gaïa clothed in linen sitting cross-legged on the bare stone alongside a weary Stargazer clothed in red. Three red-skinned packs come from what they call "The Pure Lands", you are happy of their assistance but their pride irks you. The Fenrirs, as often your allies as they are your enemies stand in a corner with the Shadow Lords and the regal Silver Fangs. On the outskirts, Bone Gnawers and Silent Striders, always at the border, always on the edge, eye warily the gaping maw of the portal while the one servant of the Rainbow Serpent who came mumble prayers.
Chants begin to fill the air, while bodies begin to shake, possessed of the ecstasy of the rites. The two rite-mistresses, a Black Fury and a Red Talon, lead the prayers and the responses, the dances and the bloodshed. You shift shapes and forms in rhythm following the music of acolytes, the opening in the veil of reality seems to dance too. Shrinking and widening like a snake dancing to a charmer's flute. It sings in your head and in the recesses of your mind. This is the last chance you've offered. Follow the piper's tune, follow the call and the dance. Dance until your feet are bleeding against the rocks. Sing until your throats are burned with praise. Accept your place, and your fate.
The vision fills your head, fills all your heads with the glory of what you could become, what you should become. Black furred monsters stalking the smog-choked streets. Rite masters worshipping worm-gods under the earth. Glorious warriors teaching humanity new ways to kill, to despoil, and to revel in joy. The world could be yours, to walk as masters with no pleasure refused to you, with no pain refused to your slaves.
And then the Wyrm would have manifested itself through your desires and your appetites. You would have been such free slaves marveling at the gilding of their chains, bound to service through unlimited freedom.
The thought sickens you and no White Howler try a single step towards the portal.
Then all go to hell.
First comes the wrath. You hear nine walls crumbling, nine rivers drying up, nine gates being broken. The Shattered labyrinth have served and failed its purpose so its creatures can be used elsewhere. You sense the spite of the three heads of the Hydra strikes you like a burning hail, the caress of a blade and a cold in your lungs. The Beast-of-War promises you the hatred of every living thing under the sun, it roars every creatures under his vast shadow will fight you to the death. The Eater of Souls paints your lands as a paradise to its servants and you'll see Caledonia defiled many times through history. Last, the Defiler mocks you saying that your Kin will accept the gift you so foolishly refused.
Then comes the laughter, long and deep, as if something had realized a great cosmic joke. It enhances its tone and volume until it's a raging fit shaking in your veins. Madness, sweet and intoxicating like a fine wine. A new Urge is born in the raving mind of the Wyrm, the Urge to Mock, to laugh at its own predicament, the broken understanding of its condition only the mad can grasp.
The portal has become a sphere of impossible hued fire and something will come out to punish you for your defiance.
What will it be?
[] Hatred
[] Laughter
Chants begin to fill the air, while bodies begin to shake, possessed of the ecstasy of the rites. The two rite-mistresses, a Black Fury and a Red Talon, lead the prayers and the responses, the dances and the bloodshed. You shift shapes and forms in rhythm following the music of acolytes, the opening in the veil of reality seems to dance too. Shrinking and widening like a snake dancing to a charmer's flute. It sings in your head and in the recesses of your mind. This is the last chance you've offered. Follow the piper's tune, follow the call and the dance. Dance until your feet are bleeding against the rocks. Sing until your throats are burned with praise. Accept your place, and your fate.
The vision fills your head, fills all your heads with the glory of what you could become, what you should become. Black furred monsters stalking the smog-choked streets. Rite masters worshipping worm-gods under the earth. Glorious warriors teaching humanity new ways to kill, to despoil, and to revel in joy. The world could be yours, to walk as masters with no pleasure refused to you, with no pain refused to your slaves.
And then the Wyrm would have manifested itself through your desires and your appetites. You would have been such free slaves marveling at the gilding of their chains, bound to service through unlimited freedom.
The thought sickens you and no White Howler try a single step towards the portal.
Then all go to hell.
First comes the wrath. You hear nine walls crumbling, nine rivers drying up, nine gates being broken. The Shattered labyrinth have served and failed its purpose so its creatures can be used elsewhere. You sense the spite of the three heads of the Hydra strikes you like a burning hail, the caress of a blade and a cold in your lungs. The Beast-of-War promises you the hatred of every living thing under the sun, it roars every creatures under his vast shadow will fight you to the death. The Eater of Souls paints your lands as a paradise to its servants and you'll see Caledonia defiled many times through history. Last, the Defiler mocks you saying that your Kin will accept the gift you so foolishly refused.
Then comes the laughter, long and deep, as if something had realized a great cosmic joke. It enhances its tone and volume until it's a raging fit shaking in your veins. Madness, sweet and intoxicating like a fine wine. A new Urge is born in the raving mind of the Wyrm, the Urge to Mock, to laugh at its own predicament, the broken understanding of its condition only the mad can grasp.
The portal has become a sphere of impossible hued fire and something will come out to punish you for your defiance.
What will it be?
[] Hatred
[] Laughter
Maeljin Attack
ganonso
Compulsive Quest Starter
- Location
- PACA France
The impossible fire of the portal parts before your eyes. The reek of the Corruptor overpowers your sense, bringing you to tears so powerful is the stench. You ready your weapons as all the celebrants. The ritual is interrupted as every werewolves, nearly fifty of them prepare to fight the horror the Wyrm has sent to punish you. You count the steps it makes from its infernal home with each sliver of Rage your beating heart send pumping through your veins. You mumble the names of your ancestors, sensing their pride and their anger filling your limbs be righteous fury.
They emerge from the portal! Not one but two! The first has a skin of burnished brass, red and bloody and fiery. He snarls as a beast gesturing towards you with clawed hands. You see the balefire that fills his immortal form constrained by his armor, dying stars filling his eyes. So it is Rage incarnate, the fury the Wyrm holds for every living thing.
The second is more constrained and thus perhaps more dangerous. You see a suit of complete armor black as the starless night. On the torso, surrounding a burning heart of emerald fire is represented a three-headed hydra snarling and clawing. His helm mocks you in the form of a snarling wolf head. In his hands he holds a gigantic sword which howls in disharmony with his wearer.
"YOU SHOULD HAVE TAKEN THE BOON THAT WAS OFFERED HOWLERS OF GAÏA. NOW ALL OF YOU SHALL DIE FOR YOUR IMPERTINENCEL! I AM LORD STEEL THE BLACK WOLF OF THE DRAGON, TREASURE MY NAME AS I SEND YOU IN THE EMBRACE OF THE BARREN MOTHER,"
As he ready himself for battle you understand you have a slight chance from attacking one of them before they jump.
[] Will you attack the Destroyer?
[] Will you attack Lord Steel?
[] Will you await their attack?
They emerge from the portal! Not one but two! The first has a skin of burnished brass, red and bloody and fiery. He snarls as a beast gesturing towards you with clawed hands. You see the balefire that fills his immortal form constrained by his armor, dying stars filling his eyes. So it is Rage incarnate, the fury the Wyrm holds for every living thing.
The second is more constrained and thus perhaps more dangerous. You see a suit of complete armor black as the starless night. On the torso, surrounding a burning heart of emerald fire is represented a three-headed hydra snarling and clawing. His helm mocks you in the form of a snarling wolf head. In his hands he holds a gigantic sword which howls in disharmony with his wearer.
"YOU SHOULD HAVE TAKEN THE BOON THAT WAS OFFERED HOWLERS OF GAÏA. NOW ALL OF YOU SHALL DIE FOR YOUR IMPERTINENCEL! I AM LORD STEEL THE BLACK WOLF OF THE DRAGON, TREASURE MY NAME AS I SEND YOU IN THE EMBRACE OF THE BARREN MOTHER,"
As he ready himself for battle you understand you have a slight chance from attacking one of them before they jump.
[] Will you attack the Destroyer?
[] Will you attack Lord Steel?
[] Will you await their attack?
Destroyer Fight
ganonso
Compulsive Quest Starter
- Location
- PACA France
You don't know if you jump on the destroyer before it jumped on you but you are soon in a fierce hand-to-hand combat with the incarnation of Rage. Blood pumps to your Ears and you surrender to the red mist, thinking it will grant you victory in this fight like it did so many times before. Your pack surround you, nimbling at the heels of your opponent and battering it with Gifts and spells.
Your raging reveals itself as a mistake for your enemy is more ferocious you could ever think being. Claws dig deep into your fur while toxic fire fills your lungs. But you press on scratching the metal hide', swallowing the burning blood, scratching the scaly skin of the Maeljin. Nothing exist to you than your enemy and the burning desire to ravage him and destroy him and maim him and burn him in its own fires.
However it soon sounds that you can't fight this fight alone, your rage empowers your dreadful enemy as it sustains you and the others are forced to come to your help.
Which representatives will drag out of the fighting to rethink your strategy? (Choose 1, will determinate your most honored ally)
[] Black Furies
[] Bone Gnawers
[] Bunyip
[] Children of Gaïa
[] Croatan
[] Fianna
[] Get of Fenris
[] Glass Walker
[] Red Talons
[] Shadow Lords
[] Silver Fangs
[] Stargazers
[] Uktena
[] Wendigo
Your raging reveals itself as a mistake for your enemy is more ferocious you could ever think being. Claws dig deep into your fur while toxic fire fills your lungs. But you press on scratching the metal hide', swallowing the burning blood, scratching the scaly skin of the Maeljin. Nothing exist to you than your enemy and the burning desire to ravage him and destroy him and maim him and burn him in its own fires.
However it soon sounds that you can't fight this fight alone, your rage empowers your dreadful enemy as it sustains you and the others are forced to come to your help.
Which representatives will drag out of the fighting to rethink your strategy? (Choose 1, will determinate your most honored ally)
[] Black Furies
[] Bone Gnawers
[] Bunyip
[] Children of Gaïa
[] Croatan
[] Fianna
[] Get of Fenris
[] Glass Walker
[] Red Talons
[] Shadow Lords
[] Silver Fangs
[] Stargazers
[] Uktena
[] Wendigo
Victory!
ganonso
Compulsive Quest Starter
- Location
- PACA France
Vote closed : Croatan
One of your ennemies' blows strike your head and send you flying across the room. Fortunately for you, before he can lunge for the kill, one of your allies stand between you. It's one of the Pure One a woman still in human form, frail and vulnerable before the Destroyer's rage.
Or so it seems, for when your foe strikes her, his blow connect with an ethereal shield in the form of a great turtle shell. The woman stands her ground, never attacking but letting the Maeljin boundless wrath exhaust itself against her defenses. You do not know how much time she can hold. Already you can see the scales of the shell blacken and break under the relentless assault. Still she stands, concentrating all her strength in this single Gift.
At last her shield breaks but the breaking is not what you expected. The shards fly to strike the Maeljin, sending him the full force of his attacks enhanced sevenfold. It's the demon prince's turn to be sent broken across the room, near the gaping wound in reality.
You know it's the time to end this. The Uktena, Children, Get and Warder are with your pack on this one while their brethren nip at Lord Steel's armour. Your own hands glow with white hot fire while you direct the ressentment of your ancestors aganst the sworn foe of your race. The others contribute with their own gifts, submerging the fiend with claws, ice and magic. Soon he can't maintain a physical form even in the bounds of this accursed place and you see his spirit flee like a black cloud of malice accross the gateway.
Lord Steel is the next to succumb and with his departure, you see the wound close and be bound under your rites. The battle is won even if many members of your tribes and foreign representatives lie dead and bleeding on the ground.
How will you celebrate this ?
[] The Glory way : A great feast with honor, howling for the fallen, great songs and revelry
[] The Wisdom way : Lead the Stargazers and the Uktena in cataloguing everything, ennemies corpses and texts and everything you can sniff.
[] The Balance way : Go to your kin and celebrate with them the blow you struck in gaining your land freedom. Profit from the occasion to discuss mariage ties with the other tribes
[] The Cunning way : Great scathing satires of the Wyrm and his minions will be sung, bitter jokes at your expense and the Corrupter's. The manner with which you were sent from the fight will be a centerpiece.
[] The Purity way : Great ceremony of thanks for Gaïa and the others spirits, very solemn with planting of hallowed trees on this ground while your shamans lead the cleansing ritual.
One of your ennemies' blows strike your head and send you flying across the room. Fortunately for you, before he can lunge for the kill, one of your allies stand between you. It's one of the Pure One a woman still in human form, frail and vulnerable before the Destroyer's rage.
Or so it seems, for when your foe strikes her, his blow connect with an ethereal shield in the form of a great turtle shell. The woman stands her ground, never attacking but letting the Maeljin boundless wrath exhaust itself against her defenses. You do not know how much time she can hold. Already you can see the scales of the shell blacken and break under the relentless assault. Still she stands, concentrating all her strength in this single Gift.
At last her shield breaks but the breaking is not what you expected. The shards fly to strike the Maeljin, sending him the full force of his attacks enhanced sevenfold. It's the demon prince's turn to be sent broken across the room, near the gaping wound in reality.
You know it's the time to end this. The Uktena, Children, Get and Warder are with your pack on this one while their brethren nip at Lord Steel's armour. Your own hands glow with white hot fire while you direct the ressentment of your ancestors aganst the sworn foe of your race. The others contribute with their own gifts, submerging the fiend with claws, ice and magic. Soon he can't maintain a physical form even in the bounds of this accursed place and you see his spirit flee like a black cloud of malice accross the gateway.
Lord Steel is the next to succumb and with his departure, you see the wound close and be bound under your rites. The battle is won even if many members of your tribes and foreign representatives lie dead and bleeding on the ground.
How will you celebrate this ?
[] The Glory way : A great feast with honor, howling for the fallen, great songs and revelry
[] The Wisdom way : Lead the Stargazers and the Uktena in cataloguing everything, ennemies corpses and texts and everything you can sniff.
[] The Balance way : Go to your kin and celebrate with them the blow you struck in gaining your land freedom. Profit from the occasion to discuss mariage ties with the other tribes
[] The Cunning way : Great scathing satires of the Wyrm and his minions will be sung, bitter jokes at your expense and the Corrupter's. The manner with which you were sent from the fight will be a centerpiece.
[] The Purity way : Great ceremony of thanks for Gaïa and the others spirits, very solemn with planting of hallowed trees on this ground while your shamans lead the cleansing ritual.