Werewolf: The Forsaken - Blank It

useful for this, as spirits are more aware of these partially supernatural
threats. A slow dribble of refugee spirits into the pack’s
territory hints that something is awry elsewhere, but if the
pack is busy enough with its existing problems, it won’t have
time to investigate. When that dribble becomes a torrent, then
the pack knows how bad things must truly be.
The new hints don’t have to be supernatural, either.
The sudden discovery of land surveyors in the pack’s territory
or of planning notices on streetlight posts can hint
at a forthcoming corporate interest in the pack’s territory.
The sudden disappearance of a member of the pack’s
extended social circle could hint at one of any number
of things, from the missing person becoming Urged or
Claimed to an abusive family member who’s fomenting
some serious unpleasantness in the Shadow.
The key to a good transition from one set of threats to
the next is to start hinting to the players that something
is amiss, without revealing exactly what the threat is until
the last threat from the old set of plots is resolved. Give the
characters a conclusion to the last story, a set-piece battle
with the major antagonist most likely, and then let them
start investigating that little worry that’s been niggling at
the back of their minds. If you do so, you can avoid the
anticlimax that can follow the resolution of a major plot arc
by giving the characters something to do immediately. This
also reinforces the notion that the werewolves are stuck in a
constant battle to protect their territory on their own.
THE END
All good stories come to an end, but the problem with
many chronicles is that they never do. Many chronicles
just drift into hiatus, without a defined conclusion. Sometimes
it’s better to stop a chronicle before that happens.
If you, or the players, are starting to lose interest in the
current chronicle, it’s time to bring it to an end.
Stop planning or running one-off stories, and start
focusing on the existing plot arcs. Stop introducing new elements
into the pack’s territory and let the existing story elements
play out. Start planning for a big confrontation with
the major antagonist. Werewolf is a game with a heavy
emphasis on visceral, tooth-and-claw combat. When the
main antagonist finally falls, it should be beneath the teeth
and claws of the Raging pack, giving in to their bloodlust.
You can always return to that pack and its territory
after a break of a few weeks, months or years. You might
choose to stop there entirely and play a different form of
Werewolf chronicle, a different World of Darkness game,
or maybe a crossover between two or three. You might
even recycle elements of the chronicle for the new one. If
you start playing a game of Vampire: The Requiem in the
same city as your Werewolf chronicle, the vampiric antagonists
from your old chronicle could turn up in the new
one. Whatever your decisions, you won’t regret giving the
chronicle a proper climax. In people’s minds, a chronicle
that ended well will always be better remembered than
one that never ended at all.
AT THE TABLE
So, you now know how to create and develop a setting,
how to tailor your story to the needs of the characters and
how to inject horror into you game. You’re good to go,
you gather your players and are ready to start. It’s time for
the single most important lesson of Storytelling. As you
sit down with your players and start to unfold your story,
remember one thing: Plot never survives contact with the
players. Your plot is the result of your own fevered imagination
and, unlike a playwright or film director, you can’t force
your players to move along the lines you’ve set out for them.
With multiple other imaginations at work on your story, it’s
going to twist and turn in unexpected directions. Believe
it or not, though, this is good news. It means that you don’t
have to detail every little aspect of your plot in advance, because
if you do, you’ll only guarantee that the players will go
off in another direction entirely. Instead, a Werewolf: The
Forsaken plot is far better designed as a series of locations,
characters and events that can be transferred and manipulated
as needed, based on how the characters react.
You can’t afford to be protective of your plot as the
Storyteller. The chronicle has to be enjoyable for everyone.
If the plot you’ve created is dependent on the characters
visiting a certain place, you’re in trouble, because the
laws of Storytelling mean that that’s the one place they’ll
avoid at all costs. The plot needs enough flexibility to allow
your players multiple paths through it.
THE OFFER
The Offer is an idea from improvisational
theater and comedy, but it works equally well in
Storytelling games. An Offer occurs when a participant
introduces a new idea or concept into the
game, and the other participants react. Offers are
the primary means by which players influence the
setting and plot as the chronicle moves forward.
For example, they might suggest visiting a shop,
bar, lake or cabin that has never been mentioned
before. There’s nothing to suggest that it exists,
but there’s nothing to say it doesn’t either. If it
moves the chronicle forward, there’s no reason
not to accept the Offer and incorporate it into the
game. The same can apply to characters or major
landscape features. It can also apply to events in
the area or the characters’ history that haven’t
been explicitly detailed already.
You, as the Storyteller, are the person with
the power to refuse an Offer. You should do so
only with good reason, though. The Offer might
contradict the established continuity of the
chronicle, for example, or there might not be
room for it within the setting, supporting cast or
plot of the chronicle as you’ve conceived it. The
latter alone isn’t always grounds for a refusal;
the Offer might actually improve on what you
At the Table
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