Werewolf: The Forsaken - Blank It

Father Wolf raised the First Pack to aid him in his duties
as guardian of the Border Marches. They took to these duties
and helped bring order to the spirit world and the muddy
world. They were shepherds of human, animal and spirit.
They culled any herd, tribe or pack that got too large or too
dangerous, playing the role of first among predators.
Of course, some spirits and some tribes of humanity
didn’t take well to this treatment. Some fought back, and
through force of numbers, magic or strength, some wouldn’t
die so easily. Father Wolf and his pack banished the worst to
the far reaches of the spirit wilds, including mighty spirits, lesser
servants of those spirits and tribes of men who worshipped
dark powers and committed blasphemous crimes. Others, such
as the Plague King and the Spinner-Hag, opposed Father Wolf
when they could and fled when they found they could not take
on his entire pack.
We were lords of the dawn world. Our great strength
and our ability to take different forms allowed us to dominate
any man or creature. Few predators could challenge us. No
prey could resist us. Even the strongest mammoths and fiercest
predators of that era were no match for a pack of werewolves.
It was a dark time to be human, but it was our age of glory, a
golden age painted with the bright blood of our prey.
And like every golden age, it was doomed.
THE DECLINE OF FATHER WOLF
You see, it began with Father Wolf. Before our time,
before the humans arose and when most spirits were still
young and weak, only Father Wolf was necessary to keep the
two worlds in check. No spirit managed to linger overlong in
the physical world or gather too much power. Father Wolf’s
personal power diminished a little as he brought forth progeny
both by Mother Luna and by other spirits. He was still strong
and fast — for a time.
It took many, many years, more than could be counted,
but gradually Father Wolf began to lose his strength and speed.
His fangs began to dull, and his wisdom did not reach as far.
More spirits escaped his notice, setting up their terrible kingdoms
among the humans and bloating with power. When he
caught these would-be gods of suffering and gluttony, it took
him longer to finish them off. Some even escaped — lessened
by the struggle, but free all the same. Gradually, Pangaea
was becoming a paradise for the spirits and for those humans
who accepted their rule, and a purgatory for all the rest. Our
forefathers and foremothers saw all this, and doubt began to
gnaw at them.
And what happens when a wolf pack begins to fail at
its hunts because its alpha is too weak, too slow, too blind to
lead? Either the pack dies, or the alpha must be replaced. This
question was the same, but the stakes were the whole world.
What happened next was a horrible thing that should not have
been necessary — but it was.
THE FALL
Every spirit has bans — unbreakable laws that govern
their very nature. A spirit of pain is forbidden from healing
a living creature; a shark-spirit is forbidden rest. Father Wolf
was one of the most powerful spirits in Creation, but even he
had a ban. He felt such a strong connection to his duty that he
would not close his eyes until someone could take his place.
His ban’s strength was such that if those who could do so were
to rise against him, he could not defend himself.
Of course, the ones best suited to take Father Wolf’s
place were his own children.
Now, tales of this time make it quite clear that Father
Wolf could unsheathe his claws and bare fangs against his children
in ordinary struggles for dominance. Yet if Father Wolf’s
pack truly desired to bring a killing blow against him, his very
nature left him powerless. He would not be able to defend
himself actively against such treachery, and his thick hide and
powerful muscles would prove to be no more help than the
wind and rain. So the only way to overthrow Father Wolf was
to strike to kill.
And we slew him.
With his last breath, Father Wolf let loose a howl that
shook both worlds. Humans collapsed sobbing at the sound
that stirred nothing but fear in their hearts. Spirits cowered
in their dens, struck with terror that something could have
slain the great merciless wolf-spirit. They say the werewolf
who struck the killing blow was himself instantly slain by the
sheer force and emotional weight of the howl. Upon hearing
the death-howl of her favored lover, Luna herself cried out
in anguish and betrayal, cursing all the children she had ever
borne. That curse would never be fully lifted.
It is said, then, that the soul of the planet itself stirred. As
the denizens of the Shadow Realm and the mortal creatures
of the physical realm recoiled in terror, the two worlds were
sundered. The earth shook and storms lashed the land. Ice
broke free from the north, and islands sank into the ocean.
Pangaea was no more. After the Fall, the hunters’ paradise
was gone forever.
FORSAKEN
That’s why we are what we are. That’s why we’re wolf
and human. That’s why we’re children of the Shadow Realm,
but Forsaken by spirit. The spirits have feared us — and
most have hated us — since that day. They fear and hate the
thought that creatures part flesh and part ephemera now have
the power to police them, and that we once had the strength
to destroy the one spirit they all feared. The humans would go
mad if they knew we’re not just movie icons, but real creatures
that walk among them.
We destroyed the greatest thing we ever had because it
had to be done. We keep the spirit world in check, and spirits
can’t stand us for it. We do our best to keep humans from
maiming the spirit world in turn, and humans would despise
us for it if they knew. Our own brothers have turned on us,
hating us for doing what they lacked the courage and compassion
to do themselves. Only fickle Mother Luna and our wolf
totems stand with us, but that’s enough. We are the People.
We are Uratha. We are the wolves who hunt in both worlds.
We are the Forsaken, and heaven help anyone who draws
down our fury.
Shadow History
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