Everything

When captured, larger or obviously dangerous ani­ mals wind up in the zoo, or the aquarium, in the case of the Rokea. For a shapeshifter, the zoo is even more like a prison than the shelters. Animals in the zoo are on display, behind metal bars and in concrete dens while loud, smelly humans either gape slack-jawed or yell and throw things. And for some reason, a lot of them keep assaulting the animals’ sight with flashing lights.

At best, the zoo is a boring experience, and even then that boredom will eventually get to be too much. Some of the zookeepers might be decent, but in general they exhibit typical human ignorance or blatantly abuse their charges. A shapeshifter is prodded and treated like something is expected of them, depending on how much the humans — particularly the children — whine or yell.

And then other animals wind up in the mix, especially in communal cages. Like in any prison, newcomers start at the bottom of the pecking order against some alpha jerk with flunkies backing him up. At the very least they’ll hog the food, crummy as it is, but at worst the shapeshifter must either put up with the leader’s dominance or fight back. Fighting back is a good way to wind up dealing with a sadistic zookeeper or get shipped off to one of the camps.

The animals of Wolfhome call them “camps” because in general the terms “laboratory” or “medical testing center”

are too complex to grasp. Some animals understand that different camps want different things, but rarely care very much because the end result is always the same regardless. Men in uniforms with guns and tranquilizers take animals to camps to slowly suffer and die at the hands of doctors in lab coats no matter what the camp’s exact goals are.

Scientists jab their charges with needles and pump them full of drugs designed to make them sick or woozy. They shave off the animals’ fur to rub burning chemicals against the raw skin to see what happens. They trap their captives in mazes or shine lights and colors in their eyes — sometimes after making them sick or shocking them. Sometimes the experiments involve starvation or sensory deprivation. Any purpose to the experiments beyond pain and suffering is lost on the animals.

If a character acts a little too “smart,” she may get the attention of a particularly curious researcher. This could mean she is now the personal project of someone who wants to try training her or studying her under less painful conditions. Maybe the researcher wants to poke a larger needle in her skin or tie a plastic box around her neck and release her into the wild to see what she does.

Or it means that she’s wound up in the tender mercies of a scientist who wants to cut open her head and look at her brain.

Wolfhome is rarely an intentional destination. The characters that end up there are usually those who have neglected their duties to Gaia, displayed a severe ignorance or disdain towards their animal side, or otherwise need to be taken down a peg. Some elders have ways of send­ ing other shapeshifters there, perhaps with a spirit ally. Travelers sometimes end up there after fleeing the Dream Zone. If a shapeshifter intentionally enters Wolfhome, it’s likely to rescue a trapped packmate or septmate. In some cases, a trip to Wolfhome could serve as a test or vision quest, leading to Honor or Wisdom Renown upon the shapeshifter’s return.

Leaving Wolfhome is an entirely different story. To exit Wolfhome, the shapeshifter has to get in touch with his animal side and truly understand the bestial aspects of his nature — likely in a way he never has before. The moment at which the character has learned his object lesson and how are up to the Storyteller’s discretion, but once that moment is reached the character may leave.

The Near Umbra is a vast place. Not only does it house the Realms many Garou know of through story and song, it contains multitudes of ones that they do not know. Distance and time are fluid concepts, and a straight line is only rarely the shortest distance between two points. Minor Realms wink into existence as a facet of the world resonates in the minds of people there, then diminish — or disappear entirely — when the idea loses hold. Why the minor Realms come into existence as a result of the thoughts and beliefs of humans rather than all animals remains a mystery that the Garou are ill-placed to solve. Perhaps animals have their own minor Realms but the Garou are too human to recognize them for what they are. Other minor Realms include the homelands of the tribes of the Garou and Realms sacred to those Changing Breeds who spend much of their lives in the Umbra.

Nor is the Near Umbra the only spirit world. As in the Penumbra, at least two other spirit worlds overlap the physical world, and werewolves can travel to both the Astral Umbra of thought and feeling, and the Dark Umbral tem­ pest. Each Umbra terminates in a boundary with the Deep Umbra, where the laws of reality fold in on themselves and anything is possible.

The Realms of the Near Umbra can form around almost any theme or concept. Unlike the strange regions of the Deep Umbra, they are close enough to Gaia’s influence that they tend to conform to Earth-like conditions with familiar rules and expectations.

The smaller realms usually have one or two thematic aspects that explore Garou existence. Examples from the major Near Realms are the Battleground and the nature of war, Erebus’ exploration of absolution of spiritual pain and sin, or the Legendary Realm’s ancient heroes and myths. When the Storyteller creates a minor Realm, she should keep a specific theme in mind. Realms can have multiple themes but these need to complement each other. The de­ scription of the Realm should make clear what the Storyteller expects from the Realm. If the Realm doesn’t articulate the Storyteller’s intentions, or becomes confused or unclear, the Realm may have too many aspects.

As well as the themes they wish to explore, Storytellers should develop a concept that describes the appearance of the Realm. This concept embodies the themes and how they are explored. The Storyteller decides the exaggerated elements of the Realm and what is absent. The Realm will have stronger hooks if themes are presented in interesting or challenging ways. Decide the mechanics of any elements that make navigation, movement or survival difficult, and how the characters can overcome these obstacles. The narrative is always the most important part of the story. Creative characters who invent interesting ways to overcome obstacles should succeed.

The storyteller should only define what is strange or bizarre in the Realm. Everything else works like normal. In a Realm like the Aetherial where clouds form the ground and everyone flies or moves about in great leaps, gravity still pulls everything down, everyone can still breathe even though there is technically no air, and time flows forward from past to future.