Everything

Storytellers may want to allow players to create more experienced characters, especially if those char­ acters will take on significant positions in a large sept. Some Werewolf players prefer picking up at Fostern or Adren to starting out every new character at Cliath.

We recommend that players first create a Cliath character, then spend a quantity of experience points determined by the Storyteller to raise their Traits to levels suitable for their Rank. Characters start with the minimum Renown requirements for their Rank. In general, an “idle” Garou will have one Gift appro­ priate to his Rank, three of the next-lower Rank, and four Gifts each of any lower levels. Remember, the pack is likely not “idle” like Storyteller characters — if they’re out taking the fight to the Wyrm rather than tending a sept they’ll rapidly outpace this guideline.

If the players would prefer to dive into the political side of the Garou, the Storyteller can create a Chronicle centered on the pack’s home sept, with individual pack members taking positions of responsibility. This can work particularly well if the pack are relatively inexperienced Garou who have banded together with some other werewolves to found a new sept —either around a newly-discovered caern, or a sept without a caern in a place that hasn’t had a strong Garou presence before. The young werewolves find themselves thrust into the limelight, where they must deal with trouble both internal and external. One story may involve rallying the other Garou to face down an attack by minions of the Wyrm, while the next features the pack resolving a dispute between other members of the sept before it spills over into bloodshed and slaughter. Further stories involve quests to appease the caern’s totem spirit, tense negotiations with representatives of a neighboring sept, and the pack facing down accusations of terrible crimes (real or imagined) from their own septmates.

Sept chronicles grow in scale as the pack grows in power and Rank. While starting at the bottom is fun for some groups, other troupes may prefer to create experienced werewolves. That way,

the pack can start out as big players in a large sept like the Sept of the Green in New York. At that level, the pack is responsible for keeping the peace between many more werewolves, and fac­ ing down more powerful external threats — from concentrated assaults involving Black Spiral Dancers, fomori, and powerful banes, to local governments handing over the caern’s grounds, to a corporation looking to build a new out-of-town mall.

The Storyteller should keep the sept’s location in mind, as that can affect the kind of threats that work best. An urban caern will see planning challenges, infiltration attempts, and challenges in City Hall, rather than facing down a team of ex-special forces mercenaries. A sept in the Scottish Highlands is far more vulner­ able to direct attack, especially from Black Spiral Dancers, but could still face threats from an eccentric billionaire who wants to make the caern heart into a feature of his new golf course. Septs who keep far from human eyes, whether in the Australian outback or the Siberian wilds don’t have to worry about human intervention, but that same isolation makes them excellent targets for all-out attacks featuring terrifying banes and massed fomori. Even when the Wyrm doesn’t have the sept in its sights, they still need to focus on food, fuel, and shelter.

Unless the players have made clear their desire to focus on one aspect of running a sept, the Storyteller should show off the variety of stories possible at any sept. She should fre­ quently ask her players which stories they enjoyed most, and tailor the chronicle based on their responses. While it’s true that a sept consists of multiple packs, the Storyteller should remember that the players’ characters are the protagonists of the story, so it makes sense for them to be front and center of important events, rather than mere spectators.

As a player or a Storyteller you can use the travelogue chapters in a number of ways. Perhaps the most straightfor­ ward is as a background resource — either have one of the featured characters visit the characters’ sept, or encourage players to mention encounters with them in downtime, so they can draw parallels between the situations that the pack finds itself in and moments from the stories presented.

The Storyteller can also draw from the individual stories in each travelogue if a particular entry inspires her. One week the pack are swept up in a protest with the Occupy movement, the next they’re trying to bring a rogue City Father on side, then travelling to investigate claims of Wyld energies released in Pripyat, and on to face down a Pentex subsidiary in Norilsk, and on to tracking down links between the mining company and a cult in New York. Each entry provides enough detail to either drop it into an existing story, and each section presents new antagonists, new totems, and the chapter’s narrator in game terms.

Some troupes may prefer to play through the stories presented, with one player taking on the role of the narrator and the others creating the other characters featured in the story. Rather than listening to the Storyteller reading from the book, or handing the book over to the players, introduce the beginning of the story as normal. At a dramatic moment, the Storyteller should ask the players “What do you do?” The story progresses from there. If the players have read this book, they may want to stick to how things worked out for the narrator, or they may have a different idea. The Story­ teller should improvise in return, building the story around the players’ actions while keeping the original tale in mind.

If you use this last option, remember that the players are portraying characters in a story within the normal story of the game. The characters cannot die — if they did, nobody could tell the story to begin with — but otherwise, anything goes. If the players get into the idea of telling a story within a story, the Storyteller could allow them to spend a point of Willpower or Gnosis to add something to the scene that nobody had thought of, effectively saying “No, that’s not how it happened, it was like this.”

Don’t be afraid to break from how things “actually” happened. Though you’re using the travelogue as a way to frame the story, once the Storyteller hands control over to the players, it’s up to them what happens and what the characters do. React to what happens in the story as you would at any other time in the game, and use the existing story as inspiration, rather than a straightjacket.

One thing the travelogue chapters really bring home is that Werewolf is a global game. For all that a pack is usually based at a single sept, some spend months or years travelling the world. Most Garou prefer to travel by moon bridge between caerns, as they can bring all manner of weapons and cross national borders without alerting the authorities.

Some werewolves deliberately maintain a full identity in human society, and use that to travel. While taking a commercial flight between two cities does bring the risk of security checkpoints, and limits what items a werewolf can bring with him, Garou who travel among humans can reach places without warning local werewolves. If a pack is investigating evidence of another sept’s corruption or doesn’t want to flag their arrival to any spiritual watchers, travelling with humans is often the best way to go about it.

If the pack’s destination is on the same landmass, it’s often easier to avoid borders and security checkpoints in lupus form. A pack of wolves travelling from Russia to the Ukraine arouses less suspicion (and has less chance of being seen outright) than a group of humans who may not have the necessary papers. The Weaver’s webs enmesh human transportation authorities, and werewolves who want to avoid the Spinner’s notice must do what they can to travel off the record.

Luna hid her face that night. The only light came from scattered stars; the only sound was the soft whisper of the lake against its shores. It wasn’t hard for Claire to pick out the sound of the interloper’s feet scuffling in the clay. Even his breathing was too loud to ignore.

“You don’t have to just stand there,” she called out. “This dock is as much yours as it is mine.”

As the young man tripped and stumbled his way out onto the dock, the night breeze carried his scent to Claire’s nose, confirming his identity. Claire sighed to herself, confident that he wouldn’t hear her over his own racket. Jacob had warned her that the pup might want to talk to her, but she’d hoped that he’d find his own way without her. Living her story had been painful enough, and the hard parts were far from over — Claire didn’t feel like sharing it just yet.

But then again, it wasn’t really up to her.

Claire turned to face the interloper. An aura of cool silver fire blazed to life on her skin. Suddenly, Claire was the brightest thing on the lake. The rising and falling water reflected her light back at her, temporarily dazzling her. However, the light also let her see the interloper’s face.

Claire knew that her first change hadn’t come any sooner than the boy’s, but he seemed so young. Of course, Claire had enjoyed the benefits of an upbringing in the Garou Nation — this boy was a lost cub, raised by Kin who were ignorant of their heritage, or whose wolf blood had become so thin that they were little more than ordinary humans.

Claire arched an eyebrow and nodded to the duffel bag slung over one of the boy’s skinny teenager shoulders. “Going on a trip?” she asked. The kid shrugged, letting the bag fall down onto the dock.

“This place sucks and you’re all crazy. People act like I can’t leave, but I don’t think anyone will stop me if I decide to walk out of here tonight. Everyone keeps on saying ‘if you think you’ve got it bad, talk to Claire.’ So, you’re Claire. What have you got to say that will convince me to stay?”

Claire sighed. “So, what do you know about me?”

“I know that you’re, like, the old Alpha’s daughter, and that’s why the new Alpha doesn’t like you.”

Claire could have laughed. The first time she had to deal with one of the Garou who didn’t know, and it was nothing but a pain in her ass. Instead, she just shook her head and looked the kid in the eyes.

“I’m a lesbian. If you know enough about your people to say we’re ‘all crazy,’ then you know enough to understand why that’s not an easy thing to be.”

It was obvious that the kid was taken aback, but he didn’t let it stop him for long. “So, just because you’re gay you’ve got it tougher than me? You can tell me why I should put up with this?” He almost shouted the last few words, but Claire noted proudly that despite his anger he didn’t lose control of his shape.

“No. Everyone thinks that you should talk to me because I know what it’s like not to fit in perfectly.”

“They want you to convince me?” “I think so.” She stalled his angry retort with a raised hand. “But, that’s not what I’m going to do. I’m just going to talk to you. I’m going to teach you about the Garou Nation, and then let you make your own choice.” She laughed. “Hell, if you still want to go when we’re done, I’ll give you a ride into town. All you have to do is listen to me for a little while. Do we have a deal?”

The boy narrowed his eyes, then shrugged and flopped down onto the dock. He didn’t speak out loud, but his body language said ‘go on.’

So Claire did.

At its heart, a sept is a group of Garou, living together under some version of the ancient laws and customs that have governed our people since the dawn of time. I could tell you about the history of our people, but that doesn’t matter right now. What matters is that you know what a sept is. A sept isn’t a caern. I’ve been to septs without caerns — a sad sight, but all too common these days. Once I was lucky enough to see a caern without a sept; we fixed that right away.

I’m sure you’ve walked around the sept. If you bothered to take your headphones out and look around, you’d seen what this place is really like. There isn’t a single word for it in any human language I know. We’ve got homes, a mess hall, a place for us to gather, so I guess you could call it a village. We’ve got an armory, shooting platforms rigged up in the trees, and a defensive perimeter, so you could call it an armed camp. At the same time, with the caern itself, the bawn, and all the little shrines scattered around, so you could say that it’s a temple.

I think the best word for a sept is a community, but in a way that most Western humans haven’t had a community in a long time.

In any given sept, the Garou and Kinfolk fall into one of three different groups. Some try to balance their lives. They might have jobs and apartments — sometimes even families — somewhere else, but they also try to maintain living quarters here. They spend half the day working a human job, and the other half of the day performing some duty for the sept, though they have a hard time advancing in either world. These Garou sometimes give a lot of money to the sept, to make up for the time they can’t spare.

Others prefer the human world. They only come out here when the need — theirs or the sept’s — is dire. They might still be involved with their packs, but they aren’t interested in the larger community.

If someone picks the world of the Garou, then they probably live in or near the sept itself. They might do something in the human world to make a little cash. Money is useful. But they also might not, trusting the sept to provide for them. Working for the sept lets them give something back for the resources they use..

Most have been one, two, or all three of these groups throughout his or her life. Some Garou find it too hard to give up their old, human expectations of life. They try to balance their lives out. Some stick with it, but usually one or the other side wins out, for a little while. Then something happens to upset their lives, and it starts all over again.

And, of course, you have the lupus. I don’t much understand the appeal, but many lupus try to maintain lives as wolves, leading packs and siring wolf Kin. Others throw themselves into the world of the Garou — believe it or not, they have as much to learn as you. Believe it or not, a few lupus, usually the Ragabash, become fascinated with the weaver’s world and spend a while living as humans.

Whatever your choice, your sept supports you. Some Kin and Garou stay a part of the world outside so that you don’t have to, if you don’t want to. Others dedicate themselves to the sept full-time so that you can have the luxury of a normal job, a normal home, and normal friends.

What’s it like to live in a sept? I suppose it’s a lot like living in a commune or a kibbutz, or maybe a really small town. You wake up in the morning, and there’s usually a gathering of some kind. I’ve visited septs that had morning meetings like Quakers. I’ve been to septs where they had a breakfast in the great hall and everyone mocked each other for their hangovers. Communal breakfast is common.

Unless the sept is in serious trouble, most people go about their business without having to be told what to do. Everyone knows what their responsibilities are, even if it’s just to meet their mentor and follow her around throughout the day. Garou can be irritable and territorial creatures, but to those who belong septs can be friendly places.

Communal lunches are rarer, but I’ve visited very few septs where everyone doesn’t gather for dinner. After dinner, there’s almost always some kind of ritual, even if it isn’t a formal holiday. Those who aren’t too tired from their day’s labors have time to indulge themselves in the evening, hunting in the wilds or hitching rides into the nearest human city. Some septs have electricity — and even those that aren’t have accepted the human technology of candles — so life doesn’t necessarily stop with the sunset, but it does slow down.

When my father taught me about this, he put it like this: ‘wolves like hierarchy.’ Of course, that’s too simple. In reality, there isn’t a one of Gaia’s children — except for the stupidest, I suppose — that isn’t more comfortable when it knows who’s above and who’s below. Even humans, for all their intellect, like to jockey for position — only in some parts of the world, they’re less likely to do it with violence. Even so, Garou hierarchy is more fluid than most animal hierarchies.

First and foremost, Garou respect rank. That’s something you’re going to have to get used to if you stay with us. Out in the human world it’s much the same — even if you decide that you’re going to spend the rest of your life on the streets and never get a job, you’ll be expected to show respect to those who have been on the streets longer. The difference is that in Garou society, Rank is all encompassing. A Garou who ranks you is just plain better than you at everything — at least, that’s how everyone is going to see it. Of course, that doesn’t mean that you can’t respectfully disagree or try to sway an older Garou to your way of thinking; it does mean that if you just contradict her, you’re going to look like a fool.

Why are we like that? Part of it is that we’re an old people, deeply seated in our customs. Part of it is our armed camp mentality. Enemies surround us, and the only way we’re going to survive is unity.

And part of it is that it’s true. This might seem odd to you, coming from the human world where people live to eighty without trying hard — it sounds odd to hear myself say it, given how many of the elders are the ones who give me the most grief — but if a Garou survives long enough to be called “elder,” then he or she has got to be tough, clever, and lucky. Chances are that your elders do know better than you, and you should listen to them and learn what you can.

The smallest unit that Garou society recognizes is the pack. Oh, sure, we acknowledge the rights of the individual, and some sept duties are performed by individuals rather than packs. However, you’ve got to understand that you will be judged first by your pack. Your auspice, your tribe, even your personal reputation — all of this pales in comparison

to the company you keep. A typical Garou will assume that the Ahroun of a pack known for dealing with spirits knows more about the Umbra than the Theurge of a pack known for its combat prowess — especially if the former pack generally ranks the latter.

When you understand this, you’ll get why I was so scared that my pack would turn on me when I came out, and why I was so happy that they didn’t.

Most packs have a purpose. This can be as simple as supporting their leader in performing an important duty for the sept, or as complicated as hunting down corruption within the Garou Nation, as expansive as defending a territory from the Wyrm, or as specific as the quest for a storied fetish or lost caern. When the pack achieves its purpose — if it’s the kind of purpose that can be achieved — it will either find a new one or drift apart. Some packs — like the Silver Pack, which you might have heard of — are always temporary and formed with a very specific purpose in mind. Elders will often arrange for a temporary pack to be created if they want something done and no existing pack is interested.

In addition to purposes, packs have status. It can be hard to wrap your head around this at first, because packs don’t have rank in the same way that individual Garou do. Pack status is a lot less formal and more fluid than an individual’s status; it relies a lot more on what the pack does for the sept. Hunting down Wyrmspawn is a path to glory, but improving the sept for Garou and spirit alike is a pack to status.Unlike rank, pack status is more of commodity. Packs trade it away to get what they want — this can include the time and attention of the elders, influence over sept policy, and borrowing or even claiming fetsihes held by the sept — and they earn it by taking on duties for the sept. You can tell a pack’s status by how they get treated. Do other Garou defer to them? Do they usually get what they want? Do Garou without packs compete for the chance to join them? Do other packs and other Garou try get the pack into their debt? If so, than chances are that this is a pack with high-ranking members, a good reputation, and plenty of favors owed to them by individuals and the sept itself — a high status pack. Odds are, they’ve done a lot for the sept in the past.

Within the most successful packs, Garou hierarchy is at its most informal and most fluid. Although a pack might have an alpha, that person is only the leader as far as wider Garou society is concerned, or whenever there is an internal disagreement that needs to be solved. Usually, the leader of the pack is whoever’s expertise is most important at any given moment. The Garou with the most experience with spirits leads when the pack ventures into the Umbra, but the Garou with the best grasp of tactics takes command when the pack plans a battle, and when the pack has to venture into the world of politics, they listen carefully to what their most socially adept members have to say.

That’s not to say that packs are entirely harmonious. It wouldn’t be a Garou pack if there weren’t the occasional struggle for dominance. But in case you haven’t noticed yet, that’s the way we like it; the Garou with the strongest personality and the greatest certainty that her way is right — she’s the one who’s likely to win out in any contest, claim control of the pack, and lead them to victory. Intra-pack relationships can also be surprisingly violent. Your pack is your closest family, and they know exactly what you can take. Of all the Garou in the sept, they’re the ones most likely to respond to your stupidity with a friendly punch to the face. If you lose control of your inner beast, they’re also the ones who will take personal responsibility for beating you into submission –as you get to know yourself better, you’ll understand that this is a good thing. I know that this kind of casual violence seems odd to someone raised outside the Garou Nation, but remember that with our healing, it doesn’t matter much. A beating that would leave a human incapacitated for a week is unlikely to take a Garou more than an hour or two to recover from.

That’s the ideal, anyway. In truth, there are packs dominated by a single, strong alpha who does as she pleases and only listens to the pack’s advice when she feels like it. Some Garou find that kind of authority comforting. Packs are families, happy and otherwise.

Generally, if you feel like Garou society is too rigid and too demanding, what you need is a pack. In all but the saddest cases, your pack is the place where you can be valued for your ideas and your expertise instead of your rank.

Standing above pack in the ladder of hierarchy is sept. I don’t think I have much to say about sept — I already covered the basics earlier — but it’s important that you understand how sept fits into everything else. Your sept is like your city. It colors your reputation, but doesn’t determine it.

Think of it this way. You’re from New York, right? What are the first three things you think of when you imagine people from Atlanta? We’re racist — unless you’re thinking about the black folks — in which case they’re poor and oppressed, we’re fake and superficial, and we all talk like we’re out of a Civil War movie?

Come on, don’t sulk. I’m not saying I think you actually believe any of that nonsense. But, you do think it. These are the stereotypes that come to mind as soon as you think of Atlanta, before your thinking mind has a chance to take over, and unless you’re careful, they will continue to sneak in and influence your opinions. Of course, it doesn’t help anything that stereotypes are often based on truth — Atlanta is a city with a history of racial conflict and injustice, and my

family, at least, is very status-conscious — but being based on truth doesn’t make any stereotype true for all the people, all the time, and you’re a fool if you act like it does.

Septs are the same way. Everyone knows that the Blood Clay Sept up near Cleveland, Georgia, are a bunch of dangerous and untrustworthy weirdoes. Is that true? Well, ‘weirdo’ is a pretty judgmental term, but it is true that the sept was founded in the1890s by a preacher-Theurge who mixed evangelical Christianity, Hebrew mysticism, and Gaia worship, and they still practice a lot of the rites that he discovered and invented. That doesn’t make them weirdoes, but it does give them a unique perspective on the spirit world.

Just like stereotypes, your sept gives others a starting point for knowing who you are. This can be an advantage in that it’s flattering or true, and a disadvantage in that it’s unfair and untrue. In some ways, it’s just another part of how Garou society involves a lot of pre-judgment — another way in which we’re backwards by modern human standards — but it’s also something you can take pride in. Let them say that the Blood Clays are weird — I’ve known some of them who were able to find solutions that more traditional Garou couldn’t even imagine.

If you join our sept — and I hope you chose to stick around long enough to join us — you’ll be known as trustworthy, aggressive in the defense of Gaia, eager for glory and unwilling to rest on your laurels, and perhaps a little bit conservative and too ambitious for your own good.

Tribe is a funny thing in Garou society. To hear people talk about it, your tribe is a deep truth about your personality. All Silver Fangs are arrogant, all Shadow Lords are untrustworthy, and all Uktena meddle in things they don’t understand.

Of course, that’s nonsense. In reality, you chose your tribe and your tribe choses you. Most tribes will take anyone regardless of bloodline, provided you meet their other various qualifications. For example, the Glass Walkers are happy to accept any Garou with a mind to exploiting the tricks and technologies of the Weaver, the Black Furies will accept abused or under-appreciated women of any blood, the Uktena are happy to support almost anyone who seeks after knowledge, and the Children of Gaia will take just about anyone’s cast-offs.

Some tribes do consider ancestry. However, for most of them it’s only one of many factors. The Shadow Lords, for example, prefer to recruit from certain bloodlines, but if you have the right combination of ruthlessness and ef-fectiveness, they’re happy to take you. The Wendigo show similar favoritism for their favorite Native American tribes, and almost never accept Anglos. The Fianna and the Get of

Fenris are more or less the same way, to a somewhat lesser degree. Only the Silver Fangs are sufficiently picky to reject a cub entirely based on ancestry.

Once you consider all the tribes you could join, you need to decide which tribe you will join. On some level, that choice belongs to your elders. They’ll get to know you during your training and Rite of Passage, and gradually influence you towards the choice they think is best for you. Unfortunately, this process can become political. In some septs, the tribes compete for the best cubs, or try to pawn the difficult cases off on each other. It’s sad, but in septs that have gone that dysfunctional, the choice of tribe can seem like picking teams for a middle school basketball game.

One another level, the choice belongs to the spirits. In part, tribal spirits influence matters through the elders, who will consult with the spirits throughout your training. In part, the spirits can make the call on their own: if you or the elders chose a tribe that’s wrong for you, the tribal spirits might reject you at your right of passage. It’s embarrassing, but it happens, and the elders will just try again and find a tribe that’s a better pick.

And on some level, it’s up to you. Your heritage matters, but it matters a lot less than the kind of Garou you want to be, and the tribe that you think can lead you to that destiny.

Of course, not everyone has the luxury of choice. My father was a Silver Fang, as was his father, and his father before him in a nearly unbroken line of fathers and mothers going back until the names and deeds are lost to history. I think my family has a tiny thread of Fianna blood — a lot of Silver Fang clans in the American South do — but too little for the Fianna to really accept me. More importantly, if I tried to join any other tribe, I’d have faced unbearable censure from my family. I would have been cast out. They wouldn’t have been much kinder if Falcon had rejected me, even if I’d wanted to be a Silver Fang with all my heart. They’d have seen it as my failure that Falcon didn’t want me.

Why do the Garou talk about tribe as though it were black and white? Part of it is that it used to be. We have always followed the breeding patterns of our kinfolk, and our kin follow the breeding patterns of the human populations they’re embedded in. As mankind has spread and different races and nationalities have mingled, our kin have done the same, and our kin’s choices of mates have influenced us, gradually changing the meaning of tribe. This makes a lot of Garou, especially the older ones, uncomfortable. They miss the days when tribe was tied to bloodline. I’m not sure why they care so much — tribe hasn’t been just a matter of bloodline for more than two hundred years, if it ever really was — maybe it made them feel more secure to imagine that world is still that knowable and uncomplicated.

Maybe that’s something that elders have in common, among Garou and humans alike.