They speak in riddles and cryptic statements because they

They speak in riddles and cryptic statements because they . Chapter Two: The R o d Zs Life 7--- C&fi@ #8@ (Mi544 If the lot of our lupus is difficult and our homids stressful, that of our metis is downright hellish. By necessity, metis must be kept hidden away from the eyes of men. That means they’re kept isolated within caerns or else locked away in some more isolated location. This may not seem like much. After all, its what every metis of every tribe must go through until their First Change. But those other metis don’t have to contend with the curse. They say the sins of the father are visited upon the son. For metis, that’s a fact of life. Their parents may be subject to shame and guilt, but a metis becomes a living embodiment of their sin and bears the mark of that sin on his body. For us, that sin is compounded. The curse affects every metis offspring of Strider parentage, even if he doesn’t become one of Owl’s children. Oh, he doesn’t have to worry about being barred from Khem or from his ancestors, but from the day of his birth the dead’ll haunt him. Perhaps this is why we have so many metis among our tribe. Even if he isn’t born to a Strider mother, he’ll still carry his father’s curse. And we’re more likely to understand the unique torture the curse visits upon young metis. Think about it. We move around to escape the spirits of the dead. Metis don’t get that option. In the past, it was possible for dedicated Kinfolk or a devoted pack to carry the child with them, but in the modern world, that isn’t feasible. Some of us in Africa and Central Asia can still get away with it, but everywhere else it’s near impossible. So the metis child has to remain in one place, vulnerable to every ghost that can find him. If he grows up in a caern, he might be okay if the caern totem, the Master of the Rite or some Theurge decides to protect him from the restless dead. Others aren’t so lucky. Metis are haunted by the ghosts of animals and men, seeking the same things they do from Striders born to wolves or humans. On top of this, metis must contend with the spirits of those metis who don’t get the chance to grow up and redeem their parents’ sin by becoming one of Gaia’s champions. Metis who were drowned, left to the elements or otherwise killed by Garou seeking to cover up their own sins. These ghosts do little more than torment their more fortunate cousins. Some of our metis go mad. Those who don’t are often seen as strange and distant, even by our standards. Regardless of his mental health, a Strider metis is typically one of Gaia’s most dedicated warriors. He is acutely aware of how his chance to redeem the sin of his birth is a chance others have been denied. And so he tries harder, perhaps hoping to earnredemption for those who can’t. The rage we feel is no accident. Gaia made us to be a warrior race. We’re Her Fangs. But Luna shapes what sort of warriorwe become. It doesn’t matter ifwe come from Algeria or Arizona, the phase of the moon we’re born under dictates our path in life. Eachauspice plays acritical role in the society of the Garou Nation and in the society of our tribe. ap?M Ragabash are famous - which is a polite way of saying “stereotyped” -for having a sense of humor. Our No Moons’ senses of humor tend to lean toward the morbid. The gallows humor typical of anyone who spends so much time dealing with death. You have to laugh at it sometimes, or else you go mad with grief. They’re one of the main reasons our tribe has never fallen to despair and defeatism. If one of us mourns for what we’ve lost, the Ragabash asks what it is we still have, as well as how can we regain the things we’ve lost. They push us to examine our own weaknesses and to better ourselves. In war, most of our No Moons become like vengeful wraiths. Silent and invisible, able to go anywhere and steal or kill anything. They also continuously question battle plans, probing for and eliminating the sort of weaknesses that could cost one or more Garou their lives. A few are a little more direct in combat. Well, direct for a No Moon anyway. They borrow tactics from jackals and hyenas, using endless hit and run attacks to slowly whittle their foes down. Some go so far as keeping opponents off balance with quips, barbs and a mocking laughter that would send chills up your spine if you heard it. Their taste for morbid humor carries over to their work as well. They teach serial killers what it’s like to be stalked and hunted, or see to it that CEOs who dump waste into the ocean have “accidents” in their pools or bathtubs. That’s our tribe’s idea of comedy. 7Emp Theurges are the shamans among an entire community of spirit-touched. Every one of us has a deep connection to the spirit world. But Theurges take that even further. Where the rest of us have a foot in each world, they lean more heavily to the spirit world. They see things no one else can see, and go where others fear to tread. As Gaia’s creations, we’re naturally attuned to the Umbra and the spirits of life. As Owl’s children, we’re drawn to the Underworld and the spirits of death. Our Theurges seek mastery over life and death. Most have a haunted look in their eyes. Something that comes from being intimately familiar with what lies on the other side. They speak in riddles and cryptic statements because they . matter if its the need for revenge against the Cult of Sutekh, the desire to live up to the standards set by those who came before us, or simple pride in who we are. We keep fighting, no matter how difficult the odds may be. Akw4m Most of Egypt’s warrior traditions have been forgotten. The past few centuries have seen them cast as more of a nation of scholars and mystics. Other tribes sometimes foster the idea that the same holds true for us. The Get had their Vikings, so they must be fierce warriors. The Striders have their necromantic priests, so they must not be that good in a fight. More fools they. We were old when the human cultures of Khem were newborn. But unlike the other “warrior tribes,” our Ahroun aren’t braggarts. Oh, they make their claims for Glory and Honor just like any warrior. But it never becomes the focal point of their lives. No, our Ahroun are much more reserved. Maybe it’s because they know first hand of the ghosts that war leaves in its wake. Ahrounaremeanttoprotect. Becausewemovearound so much, it’s hard for our Full Moons to protect caerns all the time. Instead, we favor a more proactive approach. Our Ahroun seek out threats before they attack, and destroy them then rather than later when they are at a caem doorstep. Sometimes ghosts will lead Ahroun to the monsters that killed them. Owl’s spirits also lead us to the beasts that stalk the night. We know all too well of the creatures that lurk in the darkness, preying on humans who try to pretendsuchboogeymenno1ongerexist.Our Ahrounstalk silently through that darkness, hunting the hunters. R?dPmy0 Long is the road and hard is the way that leads to becoming a Silent Strider. Because we’re forced to move around so much, teaching our cubs can be fairly complicated. Actually, it can get to be a pain in the ass. Most of our cubs get their first taste of Garou society as part of another tribe’s sept; I spent my first few weeks among a sept of Fianna in east Tennessee. That’s where they learn the basics of what it’s like to be Garou. How to control the Change, how to deal with spirits without making an ass of yourself and all that other fun stuff. Eventually, one of the Striders that the sept is familiar with returns from his wandering and takes up the new cub‘s education for as long as he can. If circumstances force him back on the road, he’ll turn the cub over to another Strider ifhe can. If not, the cub gets his first taste of life on the road and joins his teacher on his travels. Either way, this is when the cub learns the specifics of life as a Strider. Our history, our curse, the basics about the Underworld, and what Owl expects of his children. After all that, the cub is ready for his Rite of Passage. know, more than anyone else, that the dead are always around us. Always watching and always listening. And they know better than any that dead men can tell tales. P&& Philodox are expected to serve as mediators, and we’re no different. Because we travel so much, we’re often outsiders to the numerous political disputes that crop up among caems and septs. So a lot of times, they’ll ask a newly arrived Strider Half Moon to serve as an arbitrator. The idea is that the Strider will make a judgment based on nothing more than the facts at hand. There’s one small flaw in this idea, though. The facts at hand never exist in avacuum. There’s always a story behind each fact, so most of our Philodox tend to become pretty good detectives. Some septs get annoyed when some outsider starts poking around in their dirty laundry, but they keep asking us to arbitrate so they must not mind it too much. The other job of the Philodox is to act as judge (and when need be, jury and executioner). Ghosts come to use wanting closure for whatever baggage they carried with them to the other side. For a lot of them, that means revenge on the people who killed them or who otherwise done them wrong. So who better to come to for vengeance than a 400 pound killing machine. Of course, ghosts are just like the living. Lots of them are liars, are exaggerating the wrongs done against them out of a need for petty revenge, or are otherwise full of shit. So most requests of that nature get forwarded to the nearest Philodox. The Half Moon will find out the truth. If the ghost has a legitimate grievance, the Strider will act on it. If not, well, we have ways of punishing the dead too. d&d Vikonce told me that the only thing the past is good for is enriching the present. If it can’t teach you something, if it can’t inspire you, then it’s just so much excess baggage. That’s what Galliards do. We teach and inspire. Both of those roles are absolutely vital to us as a tribe. Without our ancestors, we have no direct connection to our tribe’s history. Our history exists only within the hearts and minds of the living. Without Galliards to make sure our history and culture passes on from one generation to the next, using stories and songs, our history will die out and be gone forever. For us, the Galliard’s role is amost sacred trust. And it’s one that our Galliards - myself included - take very seriously. Our responsibility to inspire is equally sacred. For thousands of years, we’ve been barred from our homeland, cut off from our ancestors and hounded from place to place by the ghosts of the dead. We could have given up, fallen into Harano and faded into oblivion. But we haven’t. We’ve kept going and we have no plans to quit any time soon. Our history inspires us to keep struggling. It doesn’t Silenf Sfri Aers