After the First War of Rage

After the First War of Rage

see them, destroy them. They no longer recognize the face of the Mother-Queen, and that is an unforgivable sin.

But we shall talk more of them later. For now we talk of our history. The changes we have endured for the love of our queen.

Great Ananasa spoke to us, a rare thing, far rarer even than meeting her as you have just now. For she spoke to all of us, a drain on her power and dangerous in that it could have revealed her presence to the Wyrm. She told us that we had done well in her absence, and warned us of the trials to come. “You will be hated and feared,” she said, and so we were, and so we are.

“You will suffer great losses in my name,” and so we did and so we have. “In the end, you will be triumphant, for you will know that my way is the only clear path to follow.” And we have followed her way ever since, and in small measures, we have seen the truth of her words. Victory and redemption do not have to be fast, nor do they have to be complete. We are not called the Patient Ones without good reason.

After the First War of Rage The world began to change not long after the War of

Rage. Perhaps the changes were actually in place before then, but if so they were not evident. What, you might ask was the biggest, most immediate change? Well, that would be the release of the humans from the Garou’s Impergium.

Somewhere along the way the Wolves changed their minds. They decided that humans should not be culled, but should rather be allowed to multiply, to expand their horizons and grow in numbers. I have heard this decision called wise and foolish in equal measure. I have heard the Children of Gaia speak of the resulting changes that have come about as good things, and I’ve heard the same from the Glass Walkers and the

Bone Gnawers. I have also heard the other werewolf tribes speak of the same decision with regret, and many have contemplated returning to the old ways — sometimes realizing that any such decision would come far too late to do any good.

I have heard it called many things, but always these answers skirt around the issue. What caused this change in the Garou mentality? What made then suddenly decide that their human Kinfolk should be allowed to propagate in numbers undreamed of?

The answer is simple, brothers and sisters. The answer is the Weaver.

Weaver saw the potential in humans, their desire to be so much more than they already were, their penchant for tools, and their desire to understand the universe around them, and decided they could use a helping hand. With

Ananasa out of the way, no longer able to speak of balance and symmetry, Weaver found a new assistant in her grandest schemes, one only too willing to learn and to help. Weaver grew stronger, and all the while, we sat and waited, we learned what we needed to learn from our Queen.

There was a time when the Garou thought they’d all but destroyed us. We did nothing to disillusion them. They beat their chests with typical hatred and savagery, while we watched and learned.

Then they did what we always knew they would do; they turned upon themselves with no others to fight. That particular battle continues even today. The Garou fight themselves endlessly, often with words, sometimes with weapons, each convinced that their way is the only possible way to save the world from the Wyrm. We are an arrogant race, but we can admit to our flaws and work towards surviving them. The Garou have never been as fortunate.

Over the centuries we have watched them do their work, carrying out their sacred duties to Gaia and the Wyld, never understanding what they have lost along the way. We do not follow the Wyld, we do not follow the Weaver or the

Wyrm. We follow Ananasa, and we allow ourselves to be a part of her tapestry, the plan she is weaving to rectify all that is wrong with the world and the Triat. We are threads upon her skein, and if we fail to see all of the patterns, we can rest easy in the knowledge that she shows us what we must see.

Queen Ananasa told us to wait, to be patient, and to learn. We did so. But what she did not explain, what we do not fully understand even now, is what she taught us in the time after the First War of Rage.

Ananasa spoke to the strongest, wisest members of her Children, speaking to each separately, and she gave instructions to them on how she wanted her Children led. She spoke to Anansi and his brethren, telling them that they should follow the laws of the Wyld, reveling in change and chaos, but cautioned them to never forget that they are Ananasi, and therefore forged from equal parts of the Triat. Anansi spoke to his brethren, and they soon turned to the path of the Kumoti, followers of the Wyld’s Ways. She spoke to others, telling them that Weaver’s Way was best, but cautioned them again to remember their birthright as the first spirits crafted by Weaver,

Wyrm and Wyld. She made clear to them that they should respect all parts of the Triat as necessary, but also cautioned them that Weaver was mad, and Wyrm fractured and insane.

Arachne was the first to lead the Tenere, who follow the path of order as Weaver was meant to. Lastly, she spoke to the remaining leaders of the Ananasi, ordering them to follow the

Wyrm, not as he exists now, but as he once was. “Wyrm no longer knows how to control his impulses,” she cautioned. “He no longer knows what must die and what should live on. Do not fall to this trap. Remember that all things should exist if they were created by Wyld and shaped by Weaver.” All were told to follow separate paths, and all were told to follow those paths as best they could, never forgetting that they were a part of the Triat. Hatar was the first to lead the Hatar, who must follow the path the Wyrm once followed.

One last warning she gave to the Damhàn: “You have betrayed the trust of the other Ovid, making a great sacrifice on my behalf. For this I love you. But you have made enemies that will neither forgive nor forget what you have done. Now you must each follow your own way, and you must be merciless in the pursuit of your goals. The other Ovid are young and often foolish, they haven’t your understanding of the universe. They will attack you, and they will try to kill you. For that reason, you must never forget that you are family. Family is strong where those who stand alone are weak. In all times, during all events, you must follow the paths I have chosen for you. You may meet again and fight and even kill each other, but you must not tolerate those of Gaia’s Children who would kill your family. You must fight together against the Ovid if one of you is attacked, for even when your goals are opposed, even when you kill one another, none should ever let their family be destroyed by outsiders.”

This Ananasa commanded, and this we do. We may walk among the Mammals, we may slither near the Reptiles and we may even find reason to swim with the Fishes, but we are

Spiders. Should all the Ovid gather together and join forces with the Kumoti against the Hatar, still we must never let them assault one of ours and be forgiven. Though we might kill each other, we must always defend our brethren. We are family, we are the Children of Ananasa, and even in our greatest wars against each other, we must remember that.

Ananasa’s ways are not always ours to know, but the rules she gave us are there to help us survive in our ignorance. Since the end of the First War of Rage, we have distanced ourselves from the fights of the Garou and the sacred duties of the other

Changing Breeds, as Ananasa demanded. But we have not been idle. We are at war. Away from this place, away from the

Webs we have established where peace must rule, we are enemies. I have fought against the very Damhàn who stand with me now as your instructors. We have not been friends, but we have always been family.

The Weaver’s Revenge An old man came doddering up next, carrying with him scores of rolled-up paper of some size. The pages were so large and voluminous that they almost hid the tiny man that carried them.

When he reached the stopping point of his journey, he slowly and carefully began to place the pages on the ground, taking time to turn them the direction that he desired.

When he was finished, he turned and looked out at the gathered assembly. He looked at each person directly, meeting their eyes and then moving to the next. When he was finished, he reached down and picked up a small easel, setting it beside him.

To the assembled, he seemed almost fragile. He was small, and weathered to the bone. It seemed as though any sudden movement would break him. Many even felt pity for him, and dreaded becoming like him in later years — which was exactly what he wanted.

He set up the first of his pages on the easel. It was an illustrated image of a man, showing the internal organs, and where they sat in the body — but a man without normal human organs. This was an Ananasi, and these were their innards.

He smiled, and the young spiders felt a sudden chill rush through their bodies. “Now, little ones, we will talk about what it is that will kill you.”

When our Great Mother, Ananasa, created us, she did so with loving care and careful design. She made it so we were the ultimate hunters, fearing no other life, as they are all beneath us. Even her wisdom could not foresee the anger of her creator at this action, and in an act of pure jealousy, the Weaver made her displeasure known.

Your body is carefully armored to protect you from harm, keeping you safe from any natural form of attack, you see. Weaver looked at this and wanted us to have a weakness. If you look at the body of the Ananasi, you will notice that we are perfectly structured. Our organs are placed at the optimum location for defense. Our skin is rigid, preventing minor attacks entirely, and deflecting other attacks away from our vitals. We are perfect killers, and Weaver hates perfection she did not shape herself.

And so, she formed our imperfection. A horrible attack upon us, and upon Queen Ananasa herself. Weaver gave a gift to our enemies that could destroy us. A brutal gift without remorse or consideration for her own child’s creation. If it had been one simple thing, we could overcome it, but this is not simple, it is dangerous.

Weaver gave man the ability to make weapons. Oh, I can hear you scoffing my words. What are the weapons of mere humans to you? How does this affect you? Well, that is the sign of your ignorance. One man with a spear, a sword, a gun; no, he is no threat. A group of men with their bare fists — again, hardly dangerous. But we must always be careful of men who travel armed and in groups, because we lack the swift healing of other shapeshifters. With a full belly of blood and time to concentrate, you can mend cuts and bullet wounds easily enough, but what if you don’t have time? You see, then. Weapons and numbers — these two things make humans dangerous even to us, even without the second terrible gift of the Weaver’s.

Haven’t you guessed? The mastery of something that can kill us completely even in Crawlerling — fire.

Within History “What happened after the War of Rage?” The question was redundant, and none of those listening even considered answering. The new speaker was a huge man, with a distinctive

Southern drawl. He was dressed in Biballs and a T-shirt, and his shoes had seen their best days a few years back. Still, not one of those assembled so much as whispered a slight as he paced forward.

“The easy answer is that we fell back, got our little groups together and licked our wounds like there was no tomorrow.” He smiled, an amiable face with a hundred-watt grin and a face that said he was just shy of gullible. His smile wasn’t answered — and the man nodded contentedly and began speaking again. “Fact of the matter is, that’s a load of horseshit. Nothing is ever black and white in this world. We’ve kept busy. We’ve been fighting among ourselves, and following the agendas laid out for us by the Mother-Queen like there’s no tomorrow. Which, I might add, there might not be if things keep on the way they are now.

“We’ve done amazing stuff, and the best part of it is, no one knows about most of it but us. I can’t begin to tell you everything we’ve accomplished, but I can give you a few ideas about how we’ve done what we’ve managed, and if you’re half as smart as I suspect, you’ll be able to divine what I’m getting at.

He paused then, turning toward the cackling man sitting off to the side of the group, surrounded by three of the other teachers, though there was little doubt he could break from the shroud of webs that kept