Tau Dark-Words

Sometimes, life pisses on you. Sometimes, life starts out pissing on you and keeps it up until you either can’t take it anymore, or drown in the deluge. Most Garou think that my life should be like the latter and many more think it already is. I am content to continue on surviving and let them think whatever they will. No single metis will change the mind of the Garou Nation with regard to the rest of us, least of all this one. For me, it is enough to win over one or two.

The tale of every metis begins with a single act, over which they had no say or control: Their parents’ breach of the litany. Some tenets have a bit more wiggle room, gray area, or room for interpretation. Not so much for ‘Garou shall not mate with Garou.’ Sure, a little indiscretion here, a little there. A little luck, a little protection. Being careful. There are Garou out there who have been happily breaking the first tenet for ages with not a single shred of tangible proof to show for it.

Other Garou are not so fortunate. For those, a single unwise act of passion, just one mistake, has consequences that last more than just a lifetime, but also for the lifetime of another, and another beyond that. This was the case with my parents. They had never met or even heard of one another before that fateful night.

Medu Finds-the-Foe, was wolf-born under a new moon. He was known to some for his skill as a tracker and scout. Panya Night-Wings was homid-born under a crescent moon. She was known to some for her skill in dealing with particularly obstinate spirits. The two were different garou, and from different lives, but two things brought them together. The first is the bond of tribe. All of Owl's children tend to wander and all are often alone. When one of us does forgo the call of the journey to forge a pack with other Garou, that bond is strong. The Silent Strider has not yet been born who could happily settle down.

The second thing bringing my parents together on that fateful evening, was loss. For Medu, the ill was done by one of the accursed vampires. The fiends had settled a nest with their hideous brethren near the edge of a city, Chicago I think it was. A pack of five Garou entered at mid-day in an attempt to bring low the might of an ancient bloodsucker. They had not counted on the silver weapons. When the smoke cleared, all of the bloodsuckers had perished, along with all of their ensorcelled servants. It was a Pyrrhic victory however. Among the fallen were the pack's alpha, a Get Modi named Iron-Before-SIlence and their Philodox, a Child of Gaia named Anya Two-Sides.

For Panya, things were somewhat different. She had been a member of a small pack comprised entirely of Owl's children. She and another Theurge, Issa Blood-Moon had joined with an Ahroun, Mephi Silent-Wind under Owl for a quest into the Dark Umbra to lay a long-tormented ghost to rest. Before it was over, Panya had witnessed potent spectres tear Issa, her long-time friend and confidant, to pieces. He sacrificed himself to allow the others to succeed.

It was in the throes of such loss and sadness that Medu and Panya encountered one another. Both had stopped to rest near I-80 in northern Ohio. They never could agree on the location. One said it was mile marker 116 and the other remembered it as 118. With both Garou still caught up in their grief, with the pleasant warmth of companionship after days alone on the road, and with the effects of a bottle of bourbon one thing led to another and a tenet of the Litany was broken.

After that night, they parted ways. Neither knew the true consequence of their indiscretion. It was not until almost a month later that Panya realized something was amiss. Unfortunately for her, she was currently without a pack and knew the Wendigo who dominated the area would not take kindly to sheltering an outsider pregnant with a metis cub. Fortunately, she had more allies than merely Garou.

An older Qualmi named Surefoot lived on the small reservation located on Pelee Island in Lake Erie. Panya knew him from several past encounters and they had always been friendly with one another. More than once, she had been welcomed to their home as, exhausted, she was passing through the area. On at least one occasion, she helped to bring important news from afar.

The Bastet have a much more lenient opinion on metis than much of the Garou nation and Panya was happy to trade a favor for the chance to avoid much of the ire of the local Wendigo. Ihab was born almost nine months to the day after the unexpected tryst, under the watchful gaze of Luna’s waning Gibbous face. She departed for the road once again not long after.



Who were you before the change?

As you may have suspected from the story, I am that metis cub. Being metis, I’ve always been the same. Unlike so many others, I’ve known I was Garou since I was able to know things. I grew up around the sort of people you might little expect for any Garou, metis or otherwise: Qualmi.

Thinking back on it, the entire experience was strange, though this never occurred to me at the time. I would have been very much alone were it not for my sister, Channi. We are not blood relations, but it is close enough for us. She was 7 when I was born and had only just become acquainted with her Grandfather's nature. She thought it was wonderful. Panya left the care of the Qualmi immediately after I was weaned. This was about six months.

Channi treated me like her own brother and took me everywhere she could with her. She would tell me what things looked like and what they smelled like or felt like. This helped me to learn about the world and become brave enough to walk around on my own. I can only imagine what it must have looked like to see a young, native girl being trailed by 30-inch tall, wobbly, stalking crinos toddler. I chuckle now just thinking about it.

Channi's family was very kind to me. They took me in, treated me as one of their own. I was even given the chance to learn some of the rituals their tribe performed.

What was your First Change like?

In a word, tragic. I had been invited to participate in one of the regular evening rituals. I had been agitated leading up to it. As I grew, I did not stop at the typical height of a pubescent young man, but at the enormous height of a warrior of Gaia in his battle form. I couldn't go outside during the day, the risk of the wrong person seeing me and the threat to the Veil was too great.

Relieved at the chance to spend time out, even at night, I was only too happy to participate. For the life of me, I cannot remember the ritual they were performing. I recall sensing a sudden tension ripple through the group as they all fell suddenly silent. A terrific stench wafted into my nostrils. It was something...wrong. As the hush reached a silent crescendo, a snarl of rage ripped from the suddenly-changing throat of Channi's grandfather. A moment later it was echoed...by Channi. She had just changed for the first time.

Lifting my face, I felt the cold heat of Luna's Rage pour over and flow through me. I had only a sense of the foes and hardly that, but it was enough. The Rage filled me, spilled over, and I lost my head. When I recovered, I heard Channi crying. Her Grandfather. He had been killed during the fight. Who could this kindly old man have wronged so greatly that it was worth sending such foul assailants after?

What have you become?

After that, it seemed as though I could finally be Garou; what I’d waited my entire life for. That was when I learned how much of the nation feels about Garou such as myself. Metis. It is a curse to some, an epithet to others, an insult to still more. The hatred and bigotry. It was too much to bear. I had planned to kill myself, to end the misery. Of all people, who should intercede but my father.

Having a metis son had already stained his reputation years ago. He bore no ill will to me, the child he hadn’t asked for. I traveled with him for a few weeks. He tried to teach me many things, but one lesson in particular has stayed with me: The laughter and derision is only to make them feel more secure. They are not trying  to hurt you, but rather to keep themselves safe.

Each of Gaia’s warriors has a role to play, homid, lupus, and yes, even metis.

What do you care about?

With renewed vigor, I shook off the clutching talons of Harano, threatening to lay me low, and persevered. In time, I was accepted by Owl as a member of the Silent Strider tribe. Now, my vigil is beginning. There are countless stories that have been told and forgotten, and countless more to tell.

To each Auspice is given a sacred task, mine is that of lorekeeper, and storyteller. Inspiration to those with flagging hope, and remembrance of past greatness. Each place bears its own story, many yet untold. The world will not be complete until every tale is told, vision seen, battle fought, victory celebrated, defeat learned from, foes challenged, friends mourned, stone turned, and lore uncovered.

What do you want to do?

While I, like all of Gaia’s chosen, can fight, it is the quest for long-lost history that calls to me. I want to explore the places of the ancients, to eke out their secrets and bring to light ancient lore. Who can say what long-lost tidbit may impact the coming apocalypse? The past has shaped us, no tribe is more aware of that than my own. But the how, and the why, these are not always clear to us. I intend to find out.



The Carrot

Even as I became more and more involved with the Garou nation, I could not forget my big sister. Channi’s Grandfather had been slain and she meant to see to it that the monsters responsible paid dearly. As she grew into a huntress, we linked back up and I joined her on several Fomori hunts. Though my eyes are worthless, my other senses work just fine. Are such things dangerous? Assuredly, but what warrior of Gaia lets something so small as blindness stand in the way of putting themselves in the way of incredible danger?

On the first of these hunts, she had tracked a lone Fomor to a forest. It lay not far from a series of mobile homes in the country. There had been a pair of ghastly murders within the same week and each scene reeked of the Wyrm. In the forest, we came upon several traps, showing us the thing was quite cunning. One of them almost took my arm off it cut so deeply. When we found the monster, to hear Channi tell it, everything fell into a heavy darkness. I could just hear it, moving in the hush. I stepped forward to deflect a blow meant for Channi and was just in time. She reacted like lightning and we were both upon it. We survived. The Fomor was not so lucky. (Glory)

On a later hunt, we had somewhat of what you might call a cosmopolitan pack: Two of Channi’s friends, Gurahl and Corax; she and myself. The Corax called us the “Superfriends” and laughed uproariously. This time, there were more Fomori: seven in total. We lacked a totem and, its benefits, but we were of similar purpose. This was my first encounter with silver bullets and I doubt it will be my last. At one point, the Corax had fallen, and I was wrestling with a single Fomor. Another unloaded an entire magazine of silver rounds at me. Several scored wounds and the one through my collar bone on the right side almost put me out. I felt weak for a moment. Then the rage took me and I surged back. Through one Fomor and then another. We saved the Corax, and killed every last one of the vile things in that wretched nest. (Glory, first battle scar)

Both my mother and father are, by some miracle, still alive. Now, it happened that Panya-rhya was passing through and stopped by to visit. She had acquired a ghostly ankh pendant that would, it was purported, grant prophetic visions in line with the ‘mood of the moon in the hour of one’s birth.’ She thought it would be of use to me. I would not say the thing was cursed, exactly. When I put it on, I immediately felt a searing pain around my neck. The thing, it seemed, had been a small piece of soulsteel and it burned its way directly into my flesh and would not budge from it. Nothing else happened immediately. That night, my mind was racked with countless nightmares, none of which I can recall. In the haze of terror, I remember one thing clearly: A mound of skulls, crafted from ice. Around it slept a dozen fine warriors. In the dark of night, a serpent stole into their camp. The next day, the warriors sickened. The following night a great darkness settled upon the camp. In the morning all that was left was a mound of a dozen skulls, all of Garou. I told Panya-rhya in the morning and she grew concerned. A Wendigo sept was a ways to the northwest and among their Ahrouns was counted a Garou called “Skull-taker.” We set out. Arriving, she spoke to their eldest Theurge. One thing led to another and it was discovered that a Garou who had come to the sept only a week prior had fallen to the Wyrm. They were caught in the act of trying to poison the sept’s water. The next night, all of the warriors were prepared. A night attack by a pack of Black Spiral Dancers was thwarted as the local Wendigo, hale and hole, and wide awake were not taken unawares. The eldest Theurge then said that, though I brought dark words, the warriors of Gaia prevailed where they would have fallen otherwise. (Wisdom, deed name “Dark-Words,” Nightmares flaw, Medium merit, Prophetic ability merit. Nightmares is from Players Guide to Garou, the other two are from a variety of WoD sourcebooks, pulled from this aggregated list: http://www.angelfire.com/id/deathquaker/gaming/meritsflaws.html)