|Character Creation||The City||Directory: Werewolf: the Forsaken||Werewolf Cast List||House Rules|
|Society||History||About the Venue||Locations||Player Guide|
For the strength of the Pack is the Wolf,
and the strength of the Wolf is the Pack.
- Rudyard Kipling -
- The Packs
- The Spirit Courts
- The Turs
- The Families
- The Oaths of the Moon
- Tribal Vows
No werewolf hunts alone. Father Luna blesses each of us with an auspice, a duty in the Siskur-Dah our sacred hunt. Through the blessing of the Moon we find our place in the pack and in the world. Our dedication to Mother Wolf’s duty so impressed her many of her Firstborn children, and they bless our tribes, each dedicated to hunting a specific prey. Beyond those groups, we have the pack monsters and humans that hunt as one to kill even the most powerful prey.
We band together because we must. No werewolf can hunt alone. It goes against our nature, against our very being. We must be part of something beyond ourselves to succeed in the hunt. A pack can stalk from the shadows, run the prey to ground, then tear it limb from limb. A pack can share expertise, knowing the best way to hunt whether we stalk spirits or shartha. A pack can hold a hunting ground, giving us a territory where we have the advantage. A pack’s human members provide links to the human world, giving us ties to the communities we grew up in but that we can no longer be a part of.
The Swamp Alpha Pack
|Alpha||Gerhardt Frederickson||Bone Shadows||Rahu|
|Beta||Maria Hanover||Blood Talon||Cahalith|
|Member||Justice Buchanan||Blood Talon||Irakka|
|Member||Katherine Worthington||Hunters in Darkness||Ithaeur|
The City Alpha Pack
|Alpha||Nathaniel Blackwell||Iron Masters||Irakka|
|Beta||Dominic Sanabria||Storm Lords||Elodoth|
|Member||Jarvis Atkinson||Iron Masters||Ithaeur|
|Member||Veronica Jiminez||Blood Talons||Rahu|
|Member||Sophia Fairchild||Iron Masters||Cahalith|
|Alpha||Armando Codina||Storm Lords||Elodoth|
|Beta||Mateo Codina||Iron Masters||Rahu|
|Member||Diego Palermo||Iron Masters||Cahalith|
|Member||Zelia Codina||Storm Lords||Ithaeur|
|The Politico||Roberto Luna||Storm Lords||Elodoth|
|The Scion||Tempest Pax||Storm Lords||Irraka|
|The Doctor||Lisette Cole||None||Wolf-Blooded|
|The Shaman||Trent Lewis||Iron Masters||Ithaeur|
|The Artist||Simone Turner||Iron Masters||Cahalith|
|The Gremlin||Rafi O’Ifearnain||None||Wolf- Blooded|
|Lady Boss||Kelsey Rae||Bone Shadow||Elodoth|
|Dragon||Bruce Wazir||Blood Talon||Rahu|
|Oracle||Steve Manzano||Iron Master||Cahalith|
|War-Singer||Sam Davisson||Hunter in Darkness||Cahalith|
|Deniable Asset||Stephen Trahan||Storm Lord||Irraka|
|Bogeyman||William Belmont||Hunter in Darkness||Irraka|
|Assassin||Dripping Claw||Suthar Anzuth||Irraka|
|Guardian||Josephine Garcia||Suthar Anzuth||Rahu|
|Inspiration||Angel Payne||Suthar Anzuth||Cahalith|
|The Alpha||Glass Bane||Hunter In Darkness||Cahalith|
|The Hunter||Damon Cole||Bone Shadow||Irraka|
|The Ritualist||Timothy Eckmire||None||None|
Miami is a large enough city to have both a Father and Mother, but while the Flagler-inspired spirit of industry and growth that claims the former title has been in power since the late 19th century the spot of City Mother is currently being bitterly fought over by two diametrically opposed spirits. One dubs herself La Llorona, a spirit of loss and violence that draws power from the death of the despondent, while the other is a spirit of compassion whose name best translates in English to the Blue Angel. The two spirits and their choirs are at war for dominance, and their conflict ripples through the city.
Wild and untamed, most of these spirits make the oceanic landscape inhospitable. There are even areas in the city itself that are untenable as remnants of the courts of Hurricanes still beat and batter at the bastion of the city. This court is one of the strongest in the region, especially among the elemental choirs.
We’ve seen it a hundred times a year at least: Florida Man getting himself into trouble here and there, or doing amazing things. The problem is belief dictates reality sometimes, and now there really is a Florida Man. Well…there are Florida Men, would be a better way to describe it. Chock full of spirits of aggression, addiction and other strange and wild emotions the choir runs rampant, fueling the stories that inspired their emergence.
While the Celestial choirs do not deal with their flesh-bound cousins often as a matter of course, it is known that the Helions which watch over the city pay closer attention than usual to the children of Father Wolf that dwell there. Zenith LLC’s choice in pack totem - an Illuminator of some power within the court - has caught their eye, ensuring that they are watching to make sure that their brother is treated with the proper respect by all of the Forsaken, and woe betide those that think they don’t have an uphill battle to climb if they attempt to follow in Zenith’s footsteps.
Dark, angry…painful…full of wrath… Think Heavy Metal on steroids, then throw it into a particle accelerator, set it to puree, and put it into the mold of an ancient alligator. It it these spirits that the Swamp Runners deal with on a regular basis and have sworn to keep under control, and thus far they have managed it well.
While there may be rumblings of displeasure between the Swamp Runners and Zenith LLC the tradition of the tur still remains in place, with two locations being named as neutral ground for both the Forsaken and the Pure.
On the eastern edge of the Everglades stands a run down visitor center which rarely sees more than a few of the mundanes a week, if that many. It is here that the Swamp Runners have allowed to be used as a neutral place to meet that’s far enough from the core of their territory for their liking.
Although technically in the territory claimed by the Codina Family, Jose Marti Park has served as the tur for the packs based in the city since Zenith LLC worked out an arrangement with the more established pack. While the crowds makes being in any form other than Hishu sporting (unless one feels the want to be on a leash as dogs are allowed in the park, at any rate) it serves as a solid meeting space for the city’s wolves.
David Fairchild (1869–1954) was born in Lansing, Michigan, and was raised in Manhattan, Kansas. Dr. Fairchild was known for traveling the world in search of useful plants, but he was also an educator and a renowned scientist. At the age of 22, he created the Section of Foreign Seed and Plant Introduction of the United States Department of Agriculture, and for the next 37 years he traveled the world in search of plants of potential use to the American people. In 1898, David Fairchild established the USDA Plant Introduction Garden in Florida and continued to travel and explore to add to the ever-growing collection. What the history books leave out, of course, is that David Fairchild was a Ithaeur Bone Shadow, and the travels his team undertook were cover for his pack’s movements to better study the Hisil and its denizens around the world.
Upon his retirement in 1935 Dr. Fairchild returned to Miami with his pack and they joined a group of passionate plant collectors and horticulturists, including retired accountant Col. Robert H. Montgomery (1872–1953), environmentalist Marjory Stoneman Douglas, County Commissioner Charles Crandon and landscape architect William Lyman Phillips. This core group worked tirelessly to bring the idea of a one of a kind botanic garden to life, and in 1938 the Fairchild Tropical Botanic Garden opened its 83 acres to the public for the first time. Col. Montgomery, who founded the Garden, named it to honor his friend. Many plants still growing in the Garden were collected by Dr. Fairchild, including a giant African baobab tree by the Gate House. In 1940, Dr. Fairchild embarked on the Garden’s first official collecting expedition, sailing from the Philippines to the Indonesian archipelago on a special oceangoing Chinese junk called the Cheng Ho. The voyage provided many of the Garden’s early botanical specimens before the outbreak of World War II forced the explorers to return home.
Dr Fairchild married Marian Hubbard Bell and the pair of them had two children, a son Graham Fairchild, and daughter Nancy Fairchild. Upon his retirement a sizeable number of the family that was still living in Connecticut - where the American branch of the family line originated from well after their arrival from England in the 1630s - moved down to Florida to join the good doctor and help keep the Botanic Garden open and running smoothly.
The family developed a safe place for themselves called Kampong, located in Coconut Grove. Marian’s sister & her husband Gilbert Grosvenor bought the property to the north that adjoined Kampong. After David and Marian passed away Catherine Sweeney, a second cousin connected to the Fairchild’s, bought the property and maintained its upkeep. Others in the Sweeney family helped to develop the Pacific Tropical Botanical Garden (now National Tropical Botanical Garden) and now own the property, though it is still used by all those connected to the Fairchilds.
The blood of the Urfarah has always run deep in the family lines, with multiple Changes occurring each generation and a sizable number of wolf-blooded beyond that; the current generation boasts no less than four wolves and one blooded from one branch of the family alone, for example. While some have decided to pack with family members exclusively others have branched out, making new bonds with other local Uratha to expand their own personal horizons. Members of the family claim membership with all of the Forsaken tribes, although the Bone Shadows and Iron Masters see more prevalence.
Other family names: Sweeney, Grosvenor, Bell
Head of the Family
Aubrey Fairchild(nee Grosvenor)
Bone Shadows Elodoth
Wife/Mate to Evan Fairchild. The couple together run the family, both well into their old age. Most of the family is amazed they have lived this long. A former Beauty Queen, and Miss Florida in her teen years. While she may seem fair and even tempered, when riled up she still has the power to put young upstarts in her place.
Bone Shadow Ithaeur
Husband/Mate to Aubrey. He first started out helping around Kampong, with the plants. While also keeping his own private garden or more interesting uses. Evan is more of the strong silent type, preferring people underestimate him and allowing his charismatic wife to take more of the center stage. Evan is the son of Graham Fairchild.
Rest of the Family
- George and Melissa Grosvenor
- Current Owners of The Scarborough Dormitory. George is the only son of Melissa and Gilbert Grosvenor. When they passed away he was left with the families holding for the family.
- Thomas Bell
- Hunter in Darkness Rahu
- Grandson to Nancy Bell(nee Fairchild). He is often hot tempered and loud about his desire to take over running the family from his Uncle Evan and Aunt Aubrey.
- Catherine Sweeney
- A property lawyer and current owner of Kampong, having taken over the role after her mother’s passing. She is responsible for the trust that now belongs to the Fairchild family, holding all of the properties.
Today the Kampong’s living collections include tropical fruits including pomelo, 23 cultivars of avocado, and 65 varieties of mango, palms, flowering trees, ficus, aroids, and bamboo. This garden serves as the mainland campus for the NTBG. In addition to the diverse living collections which are the core of The Kampong there are living quarters for researchers and scientists as well as meeting facilities for larger groups. The site is also well configured for weddings and outdoor functions of all varieties.
The Fairchilds opened the Waystation and it has been passed down among the generations, always going to one of the Blooded who claims membership in the family lines; the current owner is Gwendolyn “Hart” Bernhardt, a granddaughter of Aubrey and Evan Fairchild. The building is 3 stories tall, with the first being a typical local bar, the second floor an exclusive members only arrangement for other supernaturals and those in the know, and the top floor apartment for the current ownership.
John Sewell was born in 1867 in Elbert County, Georgia, and moved with his parents to Florida when he was 19 years old; by the time of the move he had already been Chosen by Luna, serving as an Irakka with the Iron Masters. Working for Henry Flagler, Sewell served as foreman and superintendent for the Florida East Coast Railway during the construction of the line from Jacksonville to Miami and later joined the hotel construction department. After helping to construct The Royal Poinciana Hotel and The Breakers Hotel at Palm Beach, Sewell moved to Miami in 1896 to work on the Royal Palm Hotel. While working on the hotel, Sewell stumbled upon the burial grounds of the Tequesta Native-Americans. Sewell gave away some of the skulls as souvenirs, and ordered African-American laborers to move the remaining bones and bury them in a hole, he did this to see if he could provoke some of the local Native American Spirits into showing themselves. Sewell remained in the employ of the Florida East Coast Railway until 1899, when he left to concentrate his efforts on the mercantile establishment jointly owned with this brother. He was Mayor of the City of Miami from 1903 to 1907.
After serving in local politics, Sewell began the construction of his family home in 1912. Built on the highest point in the city, the house was named Halissee Hall from the Seminole word meaning “New Moon.” He married a young Hunter in Darkness Elodoth named Mary Jones, having six children over the years. Four made it to adulthood, two of whom followed in their parents’ footsteps under Luna’s light.
Sewell wrote a self-published autobiography entitled John Sewell’s Memoirs and History of Miami, Florida. It included an appendix describing his witnessing the attempted assassination of president-elect Franklin D. Roosevelt in 1933. The book is valuable as a primary source of information on pioneer days in Miami. Upon his death he was buried in Miami City Cemetery.
John’s brother Everest George “E. G.” Sewell ( September 17, 1874 – April 2, 1940) opened their first business north of the Miami River on March 26, 1896. In February 1916 he was elected as president of Miami Chamber of Commerce and was re-elected every year until 1925 (except for 1919). He was elected as Mayor of Miami in 1927, 1933, and twice in 1939 (once as a recall and one during a proper election). While EG never changed he use his power as mayor to cover up incidents that would have exposed the local Uratha to undue scrutiny.
EG married a young woman named Lucinda Blackwell, an Elodoth of the Iron Masters whom he met when she worked in his first store. She was with him every step of the way on his political career, helping him and acting as the perfect Mayor’s wife. She gave him a total of seven children, but only three made it to adulthood. Only one of the children, a young man named George, changed under the full moon and chose to join the Hunters in Darkness. EG died two days after suffering a heart attack on April 2, 1940 at Jackson Memorial Hospital, and was honored by having a nature park in Miami named after him.
While not as Uratha-rich as the Fairchilds the Sewell family lines still boast a notable number of Blooded, with a network of connections forged between different packs in the area through pack bond, marriage or both. Those that do go through the Change are granted the proper respect but aren’t allowed to let that go to their heads - all serve the Urfarah in their own way, no matter if they have claws of their own to call upon or not.
Other family names: Jones, Halissee, Blackwell
Head of the Family
Iron Master Cahalith
A direct descendant of John Sewell, Nolan has served as the semi-official patriarch of the family since the late 2010’s. An architect by trade, he does his part to ensure that the introduction of new buildings into the city’s landscape have as minimal an impact on the Shadow as possible and are documented as they come into being. Each addition and subtraction changes the story of the city, after all, and such things must be told.
Rest of the Family
- Victoria Blackwell
- The granddaughter of E.G. Sewell and Lucinda Blackwell, Victoria currently serves as an associate director in the admissions office at the University of Miami and, along with her brother, acts as a point of contact for newly-enrolled wolves and blooded.
- Lucian Blackwell
- Storm Lord Rahu
- Victoria’s brother and a history professor at the University of Miami. Although tough on his students he does so to ensure that they come out of his classroom stronger than they came in, better informed and armed against the dangers of the world around them.
- Christopher Martinson
- Iron Master Ithaeur
- Although not a member of the family by blood, Christopher was mated to one of Nolan’s sons before his passing and had forged tight enough ties to the city and the family to remain there rather than returning to England. Already something of a computer wizard before his Change, his skill and rapport with the digital choirs is unmatched among the local Forsaken.
The Sewell family’s house was one of Miami’s most prominent homes in the early 20th century. Halissee Hall was acquired by the University of Miami in 1932 and over the years the University of Miami School of Medicine and Jackson Memorial Hospital grew up around the former estate. In 1997, the Medical Faculty Association took the initiative to undertake a complete restoration of this National Historic Register structure. When completed, Halissee will be home to the School of Medicine’s Faculty Club and will host receptions, conferences and lectures – once again, entertaining men and women vital to the growth of Miami and South Florida.
It is known among the family that there is a series of tunnels under the University of Miami that allow the family access to their home on campus. Some say that both brothers had a hand in building it as a way to move around in emergencies. Only the Sewell family knows all the ways in and out of the tunnel system safely, however, although there have been incidents of curious students venturing into portions of the network.
In nearly every nation, many of the most notable entrepreneurs are immigrants. Immigration usually entails violation of ancestral ties and parental obligations. Dealing in their youths with convulsive change, thrown back on their own devices to create a productive existence, ripped untimely from the womb of a settled life, immigrants everywhere suffer the guilts of disconnection from their homes and families and ally easily with the forces of the future against the claims of the past. Shaped by a fractured or betrayed conservatism, however, the immigrant’s most revolutionary creations usually reverberate with remembered values. In forging a new world, he continually restores the old.
In the history of the United States, each new flood of immigrants has enacted this essential drama of abandonment and rebuilding. But in recent years, no group has played it out with the energy and resourcefulness of the Cubans who fled Castro’s Cuba in rage and fear and settled first in Miami, Florida.
The city did not seem ready for them. For the economy of central Miami, 1961 was a grim year. In the inner-city area around the Tamiami Trail, more than 1,000 homes with Federal Housing Administration mortgages had been vacated, and many were vandalized for their copper pipe and electrical fixtures. Local shops gasped for customers and went broke; 40-year-old Burdine’s, the chief downtown department store, was languishing helplessly as its clientele moved toward the suburbs. Even Miami Beach, the supreme American resort across the Bay of Biscayne, was slipping perceptibly past its prime, as wealthy northern tourists increasingly passed it by for mellower island shores to the south.
To many observers, the arrival of the Cubans seemed a deadly blow to the city’s hope for recovery. Some 200,000 had already fled Castro’s burgeoning dictatorship, and more arrived daily. Castro had proclaimed a new law of potestas patria under which he was abolishing Catholic schools, establishing centers for communist indoctrination, incarcerating dissidents, and commandeering lawyers and other white-collar people for labor in the sugar fields. Refugees flocked the Miami airport in painful confusion then clustered five or more to a room in Miami bungalows and apartments, looking for jobs that didn’t exist in the struggling Dade County economy and confidently awaiting deliverance—and vicarious vengeance—through a brutal charge of US Marines onto the beaches of Cuba, ordered by America’s macho new president, John F. Kennedy.
Some 13,000 of the immigrants came as unaccompanied children, landing in Miami without kin, a grasp of the English language, and many with only a vague connection in the United States. They had been packed off by desperate parents and left to be processed in refugee camps and then passed on to orphanages and foster homes. Many of the immigrants of all ages were channeled first to other communities, but most of them gravitated back to southern Florida, the area closest to their prior home and most acculturated with Cubans.
All statistical projections were dismal. Experts foresaw a prolonged siege of medical crises, economic stresses, and ethnic frictions; a teeming burden of “social disorders,” needs for housing, welfare, and simple hygiene—an impossible load for the already afflicted social services of the city. Here in one economically stagnant urban area, over a period of just two years, thronged some 200,000 penurious immigrants—more than the total of black unemployed youths in all of America’s urban areas at the time, concentrated in the hard core of one central city. It was an influx about one-fifth the size of the entire Dade County population in 1960, an inundation more rapid and overwhelming than any previous migration to one American city.
Few of the arrivals spoke English, and virtually none had arranged for jobs or housing. Many had been reasonably well educated and well employed in Cuba, but their experience and credentials were often irrelevant in the United States. Doctors, architects, and lawyers escaped the sugar fields only to work as busboys, bootblacks, and parking-lot attendants. Nearly 60 percent of the exiles had been common laborers even in Cuba, and all had lost most of what they had accumulated at home. From the press coverage and political comment of the day it is difficult to find any observers who saw this human flood as anything but a tribulation for southern Florida or a problem to be solved by saviors at the Department of Health, Education and Welfare and the Immigration and Naturalization Service—or the US Marines.
The Cubans’ saviors, however, were already at hand: they would be saved by themselves—not chiefly by a trickle-down of grants from the government, but by the upsurge of their own productive efforts. They would be saved by people like José Palmero, penniless, having invested his last dollars in some second hand records to peddle door to door; by Armando Codina, then a frightened, gangly youth, with just two words of English, hamburger and Coke, assigned to a refugee camp.
Armando Cordina settled in among the others in what would soon be called Little Havana. Armando himself fled for the same reason many of the others did. While most of them had what folks would consider proper jobs back in Cuba, Armando’s skill set lay in the more “grey” area. He was, however, very charismatic and used the connections with his “family” back home to gather other orphans of the crisis under his wing and start a proper trade in the less legal pleasures of life. They started first with weed in small batches and some cocaine and cigars, later expanding to other narcotics as the market grew. Armando pressed upon his newfound family that they find legitimate cover jobs to explain where their money came from, however, and most did: gophers, day laborers, sanitation work and child care helped to cover their tracks and offer additional income to the group besides.
Not long after his arrival a local cigar owner, Roy Shapiro, took a chance on Armando and hired the youth at his store Viva Cigar Lounge. Soon he noticed Armando’s abilities with rolling cigars by hand and was quite happy with the money made off the counterfeit Cuban cigars that he and his friends rolled. Armando put his nose to the grindstone, splitting his time between the store, the business handled by his ‘family’ and the side business that fueled everything else. When Roy decided to “retire” to Palm Springs he sold the store to Armando, trusting the young man to continue the good work he had been doing there.
With the store now in the hands of the Cordina Family they flourished, using the steady supply of Cuban cigars they were able to get in around the embargo to their advantage. Armando pioneered a near-foolproof technique for cutting some of the actual Cubans with normal cigars, mixing the tobacco within before rerolling and relabeling them to near perfection to increase their stock of the product and adding to their profits. As far as the public saw, Armando Cordina and his family seemed like a typical success story. They had come here from Cuba with nothing, and with the successful business plan they opened two more Viva Cigar stores, both in prominent hotels in the area owned by the Sewell family.
In the 80’s when another flood of Cubans came to Miami, the family’s ranks swelled as many of those who’d come over in the 60’s asked their families to join them, bringing in more and more connections. Armando helped send many of the children born in Miami to good schools and on to college using the grey money to fund it. In return he got well educated young Uratha and blooded to help protect the family, keeping as much as he could in house With their help he kept up the drug running and was able to bring in new shipment lines from Cuba down into Miami.
Armando had already Changed under the Half Moon back in Cuba, leaving behind his pack as they were not able to make the journey himself. A number of the motley crew that he had assorted upon his arrival was also touched by the Moon, having gone through the Change as well or showed tells of being blooded. A core part of the now-extended family still maintains this tie to the Urfarah, with the Storm Lords and Iron Masters most prominent.
Other family names: Palmero, Oyarzun, Valls
Head of the Family
Storm Lord Elodoth
One of the elder statesmen among the urban Uratha of Miami, the Elodoth does his best to keep his son’s ambitions in check as well as those of the other packmates. Finding the balance in what they do and how they act so as not to have the law after them and yet continue to grow the family and the empire behind it is key to their current survival, and woe betide anyone who threatens what’s his.
Rest of the Family
- Mateo Codina
- Iron Master Rahu
- While Armando is the head of the family, his eldest son and second in command is chomping at the bit, canines just shy of his own father’s throat for the position of Alpha. Mateo feels that the family, the pack, are not doing enough. Sure they are doing well and making a name for themselves but they need to push for more. Mateo wants to bring in even more people for the family, push bigger volumes of drugs, push more than just cigars and some cocaine, why not heroin? Why not weapons? The young Rahu is hungry for all that could be, and the firm hand of his father upon his ambitions only serves to stir the anger in his heart.
- Diego Palmero
- Iron Master Cahalith
- Diego Palermo, the resident Cahalith, is one of the best pushers there could be. The guy could sell ice to the best ice salesman there was. Always a smile on his face, and one of very few Uratha to ever stay overweight; he is almost constantly snacking, usually with a bag of potato chips on him somewhere. On the streets he goes by The Slug, because when he passes you drugs he’s always got some sort of food substance on his hands that comes with, leaving their hands a slimy mess after the exchange.
- Zelia Codina
- Storm Lord Ithaeur
- Is any pack really complete without an Ithaeur? This one sure wouldn’t be. Zelia is the financial brains of the operation behind her father Armando, handling the various accounts and ensuring that the streams of income that shouldn’t touch don’t. She watches her brother Mateo just as warily as Armando does, careful to not get looped into his schemes.
The center of the family business, Viva Cigars has been turning out quality product for over fifty years. The main location is still located in Little Havana in a well-kept building that houses both the production and sales of the cigars, the entire process watched with a careful eye by the family to ensure that the store’s reputation stays tip top. Cigars produced at this location are sent to the other stores in the city, along with some orders that are shipped out to customers outside of the city.
Werewolves are creatures of burning passions. Theirs is a lust for life few humans can understand. They hunt to survive. They feel the rush of blood in their veins and from the open wounds of their prey. Death intertwines with life, and fury with joy. Bound not by human authority or morality, they are monsters who hunt monsters. Without a guiding purpose, many would descend into atavistic madness. All Forsaken have a purpose, however: the Oath of the Moon, sworn to their moon-god/dess in the name of their dead Father.
The Oath binds Uratha to a code of savage harmony. It defines Siskur-Dah, the legacy of Urfarah. It helps Lunaï¿½s shapeshifting brood find its place in a world of animistic duality. Above all, the Oath is a weapon against degeneration into a mindless beast. By the Oath are Forsaken lifted above half-blind humans and mere wolves and spirits. Through it they gain strength, a creed, and an outlet through which to express their dedication. Even the Pure swear a version of the Oath, though each tribe has its own variations, and none of the Anshega would ever swear it to Luna. Other spirits, those that hate the Forsaken for their role in the death of Urfarah, judge each Pure based on the form of the Oath that he took. The Oath is a silver chain binding the monster. Yet it also drives those it binds to be better than they are. Mother Luna watches over her children still, and they know it through the presence of Lunes, the mad moon spirits. Lunes judge the Oath, exalting its champions and condemning its transgressors. Each of the Lunes is as bipolar as its mother, and while one might decry a werewolf for not upholding the Oath strongly enough, it might also barely react when she achieves a great success. No one said adhering to a creed of primeval hunters and capricious spirits would ever be easy.
Not all punishments come from the Lunes. Werewolves who reject the Oath become lost in the hunt without guidance or support from the Firstborn. Some reject the Oath out of wickedness, and so become little more than cunning beasts who sometimes wear human skin. Ignoring the Oath is a sure way to lose oneï¿½s grip on the things that make the Uratha who, rather than what, they are. Without balance, werewolves can become trapped in one form or even one world. In time, they forget even what they once were, becoming as single-minded and inflexible as spirits.
Several tenets comprise the Oath. Each tribe (indeed, each pack) places greater importance on some of the laws than it does the others. The added significance is in regard to tribeï¿½s favored prey and its view of a proper world. Some werewolves pay only lip service to one tenet. The more devout take every law as sacred. In the end, not even her packmates can determine how a werewolf approaches the Oath; it is a decision she must make for herself.
Urum Da Takus
- No werewolf can transgress against this tenet, for it is the beating heart of his existence. The People hunt. They revere Siskur-Dahas their most holy purpose. To them, it is not just a way of life; the hunt is life. It is Father Wolfï¿½s greatest legacy. Only werewolves can hunt like Urfarahonce did. Every pack has its own rituals of the hunt, as does every Ghost Wolf. Like any religious law, this tenet is a point of contention among rivals and enemies. A packï¿½s solemn duty is to hunt, whether things of flesh or spirit or both. Failure to do so causes other packs to doubt the packï¿½s commitment, using it as an excuse (real or feigned) to move on its territory. Bloody clashes under the moon usually follow, threatening the sanctity of the Oathï¿½s next most important clause.
Imru Nu Fir Imru
- A subject of many tribal debates and heated blood feuds, this tenet says that murdering other Uratha is a grave sin. It is both specific and ambiguous, which of course only adds to the confusion. Most agree the law makes it taboo to kill anyone with the blood of the Wolf except at great need. Many Uratha think of Wolf-Blooded and human pack members as part of the People, and thus their lives are equally sacred. Nearly as many interpretations of this law exist as there are packs in the world. Open challenges of dominance resulting in accidental death might be considered acceptable to some, while murder of an unaware victim is a heinous crime. Lunes offer little help interpreting the law, their words every bit as contradictory as clashing Forsaken beliefs. Most werewolves assume that beating another werewolf is acceptable within the Oath. Slaying a defeated foe is murder. Killing when unnecessary ï¿½ whether prey or fellow werewolf ï¿½ is a sin, especially when the victim is one of your own kind. Elodoth argue with their packs and with one another about whether or not the law includes the Pure Tribes. Some Pure seem to believe that killing Forsaken is taboo, although torture doesnï¿½t violate the law. Likewise, some Forsaken refuse to kill the Pure except when the Pure would murder them, and even then sing their lament to wolf and moon.
Sih Sehe Mak; Mak Ne Sih
- Uratha are intimately familiar with dominance and submission. Many humans and spirits feign distaste at the idea, but they, too, abide by hierarchies. The world simply wonï¿½t allow equality for everyone, and the Forsaken know it. If the prey is stronger than the pack, the pack must bring it to its level. If one pack is stronger than another, the stronger will wins out. It is the law of the wild. Younger werewolves with heads full of pride rebuke the authority of the elders. They feel the elders enforce this law, or perhaps made it up entirely, simply to wield power. In turn, the elders bear their scars, sing of their bloody glories, and take what they feel is their due. Wise elders know that the second half of the clause demands they show respect for pups and young hunters, and afford their less experienced kin that respect. Even the old and strong can have their throats torn out by angry pups. Attitudes toward this law vary within protectorates. In some, elders are given proper deference both for their ability as hunters and their wisdom as Forsaken. Some grow cruel or brutal. They fall out of balance and meet their ends at the claws of the oppressed. Some keep young werewolves in line when even the Oath canï¿½t always guide them. All respect the Firstborn and the ways that the Forsaken have followed since prehistory. If wise elders know that they should respect the young hunters, then wise pups know to respect the scarred veterans for their knowledge and prowess.
- Humans long ago abandoned this law and suffer for it. Werewolves fully know the dangers of imbalance. Their ability to hunt suffers. Their territories fall into decline. They grow weak, as did Urfarahin his final days, and soon meet their ends. Wisdom teaches that werewolves should respect their prey. Strong prey shapes strong predators, and vice versa. It is a precarious balance. A pack that kills callously gains enemies among spirits who see them as cruel barbarians. Indifference to the deaths of animals and spirits leads to losing respect for the hunt itself. A true predator kills out of necessity, not mere desire. Respect your prey, and it in turn respects your place as its predator. Spirits lash out at needlessly vicious werewolves, but those who properly respect the hunt earn the Shadowï¿½s begrudging respect as a necessary part of the natural order. Even the most selfish spirits can recognize the honor and savage nobility of the Uratha. Some Uratha take this a step further. When one of these werewolves kills a deer, she understands that the animal has given its life that hers can continue. She respects the weight of the act. For most, killing is simply about necessity. Creatures like the Hosts and Claimed must be killed before they kill werewolves in turn. Respecting your prey means respecting the need for werewolves to hunt it. These creatures are deadly monsters in their own right. Even humans are not exempt from Uratha predation, something which younger werewolves often have difficulty grasping. Humans can be prey, and in many cases must be, though the Oath forbids consumption of human flesh. Older werewolves, and those who quickly take to their roles as the ultimate predators, feel no more remorse for killing humans than they do for any other creature. Merciful werewolves might warn humans off first through various terrifying means. Just as many kill them as readily as they would their next meal.
Nu Hu Uzuz Eren
- The act provides power and pleasure, a rush of Essence and a perverse satisfaction of basest urges. It is a surrender of honor and control, and no meat is sweeter upon the tongue of a hungry werewolf. The rush of power is too much, though. To a werewolf, eating her own kind, or her close kin, is a grave temptation that also drags her closer to the spirit than the flesh. Forsaken lorekeepers have long wondered at the truth of the matter. This clause is one of the oldest and certainly the clearest. Some Uratha then wonder if the temptation has always existed, deliberately left by the mad moon-goddess or born in Father Wolfï¿½s death at the claws and teeth of his own progeny. Perhaps it is an eternal reminder of that grave act. Whatever its origin, it remains a temptation and a threat to a werewolfï¿½s soul. In the throes of Kuruth, even the most disciplined Uratha might devour her kill and remember the taste through the mists of Rage. No werewolf is safe from this temptation, even those who have never tasted the power of the sweetest meats.
Nu Bath Githul
- Werewolves are mightier than any human, but not invincible. Angry, determined humans threaten even a pack.
Guns and bombs quickly even up the score, and those few hunters capable of standing against the Uratha know some of their weaknesses. Younger werewolves laugh at the thought, thinking themselves immortal. This law protects against that headstrong thinking; it was born of a need to protect werewolves, not humans. A large-scale war between humans and werewolves would end badly for the werewolves. Even if the Uratha won a protracted war against their human kin, the results would devastate the world. Cunning werewolves stick to the shadows, hunting at night or across the Gauntlet. While itï¿½s easy to dismiss ï¿½Bigfoot sightingsï¿½ and isolated animal attacks, danger follows increased scrutiny. Werewolves already face enough challenges on the hunt.
Uratha Safal Thil Lu’u
- Uratha mate among themselves and humans. They count humans among their packs, including the Wolf-Blooded. While they feel kinship with wolves, they crave socialization among humans. It grounds them, keeps them in touch with humanity, helps them maintain balance. Werewolves cannot forsake their human sides, lest they become remorseless monsters as selfish as spirits.
The Firstborn stand apart from other spirits as the great totems of Uratha tribes. First among the children of Urfarah, the Firstborn exemplify different aspects of Siskur-Dah. They are older siblings and guides to the Forsaken. Their patronage provides knowledge, and tools to hunt specific prey. In turn the tribes honor their totems with vows sworn to the Oath of the Moon in their names.
Nu sum ghumur nu su ghid-Blood Talon
- The Blood Talons lead violent lives even for werewolves. They offer no quarter and seek none. Sworn on Fenris-Urï¿½s name is this oath: to offer no dishonorable surrender, and to accept none from their enemies. Blood Talons stand at the forefront of Uratha conflicts, where baring their throats means worse than death: It means weakness.
Su a sar-hith sa-Bone Shadow
- Bone Shadows know that their path leads them through darkness, death, and terrible secrets. They stalk the Shadow, hunting the things that would hunt them. Sworn on Kamduis-Urï¿½s name is this oath: to pay each spirit with claw and gathra, respect and rage. The Bone Shadows know what horrors await them if the Uratha grow weak.
Nu mus halhala-Hunters in Darkness
- Hunters in Darkness hold their territories sacred in a way other tribes donï¿½t understand. It is the land in which the Meninna are supreme, the apex predators. Theirs is an ancient legacy borne proudly in their savage hearts. Sworn in Hikaon-Urï¿½s name is this oath: to never let friend or foe violate the Hunterï¿½s territory unchallenged. The Meninna shape their mus-rahin service to the hunt; a violation of that ground is a violation of the Hunterï¿½s very devotion.
Kul kisura udmeda-Iron Master
- The Iron Masters know that change is the only constant. The world tomorrow might only resemble todayï¿½s world in passing. The Iron Masters know that they must adapt to the world. They ever search for ways to master their realm. Sworn in Sagrim-Urï¿½s name is this oath: to remember that which defines a werewolf even in the face of change.
Nu si gid namtar-Storm Lord
- Presence and power mean everything to the Storm Lords. They must stand as giants among their kin. To their enemies and to their rivals alike they show no weakness. To the Iminir themselves, they have no weakness. Storm Lords hold themselves to a higher standard, such that when anyone looks upon the face of the Uratha, they see a fearless wolf. Sworn in Skolis-Urï¿½s name is this oath: to remain unbreakable in service to the hunt.
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