So do you really want to hear my story, cub? Are you sure that you wish to know my howl? It is a howl that spans centuries, a silent mournful howl of loss. Don�t be fooled by this white fur or my fierce eyes. My howl is not one of rage, it a howl of sorrow.

To know my story you must first know the story of my kin. I am the last of the White Howlers, an ancient tribe that was nearly wiped out by the ravages of the Wyrm. You may know of my kin by a different name, Black Spiral Dancers. Do not look so shocked. Have you not seen me in battle? Have you not seen my ferocity? What does that remind you of? Good, you are a quick learner. My people were mighty warriors. Much more powerful and ferocious than the martyrs Get of Fenris. Our strength in battle was our greatest asset. Our confidence, however, was our weakness. For many years the Wyrm tried to gain a foot hold in the highlands of Scotland and wherever it struck the White Howlers were there to repel it. The serpent was losing its battle, much like it was losing to the weaver. The Wyrm, however, is a cunning and patient beast and it began to break down my people�s resolve by corrupting their blood. The blood of the Fianna and Silverfangs began to seep into Gaia�s purest. With this corruption the Wyrm was able to gain a foothold.

Why was the Wyrm so intent on killing my tribe? The answer for that is quiet simple. The Wyrm was facing destruction by our hands. Our Theurges became powerful and gained the ability to open a portal to Malfeas. Brave White Howler warriors trained for the day of their Rite of Passage and then descended into the heart of the Wyrm to bring back a trophy. You looked horrified, do you see now why my past lives scoff at my achievements? They have seen the heart of destruction. It kind of puts it all into perspective doesn�t it? Anyway, my people would stage regular strikes upon the serpent, taking the battle to it rather than waiting for it to come to them. It was for this reason that the Wyrm sought the total destruction of the White Howlers.

Back to the tale. So the Wyrm had managed to corrupt the pure blood of the Howlers and consequently began to turn them. Occasionally, a cub would come back from her Rite of Passage deformed and insane. These abominations were often killed, but sometimes they would escape. As time progressed these abberants became more and more common. My people had always been a savage people, we don�t believe in technology, preferring to use the old ways over the new fads of the modern day. However, some of our number began to act in a much more savage manner, rape and murder began to settle into our culture, following the ways of the Romans. The blood rites that we used to partake in to commune with the spirits became a recreation, a hobby, rather than a sacred event. The Elders noticed this change and the peril that it foretold. In a desperate attempt to halt the progress of the Wyrm they descended into Malfeas from a Caern outside of Kil Na Korr. Hundreds of brave warriors dove into battle with the Wyrm, ripping at its heart and soul with tooth and claw. The Wyrm was overwhelmed, briefly, as the Howlers drenched their bodies in the blood of destruction. So fierce was their attack that the Wyrm broke into 13 pieces, it shattered. The Wyrm, fearing the annihilation that it ultimately seeks, moved its efforts from attacking the Howlers to beckoning them. One by one our bravest warriors turned and began to fight against his brethren until there were none left. That was the last time that the White Howlers, as a tribe, fought for Gaia. The creations that poured forth from the labyrinth we the monsters that became known as the Black Spiral Dancers.

How did I come to be? Well, although the White Howlers fell to the Wyrm their Kin did not. The Romans and the BSD slaughtered most of the Picts, my kin. A few, however, did manage to escape. It is through these refugees that The Wolf hides. It has been many centuries since he has bitten anyone, in me it seems that he sank his teeth in deeply.

You look confused. Surely you know of your tribal wolf, the one who tears you from the your frail human shell with his teeth. No? Well, I guess you learn something new everyday. It is the wolf of your ancestors that awakens you. That bites you, passing the curse of Lycanthropy on to you. It is because of this that only the strongest of our number become a werewolf.

Now that you know a little bit about my people, I can now tell you my story. Get comfortable, cub, this song will last throughout the night.

How shall I begin? Why don�t I begin with the tale of my change? As you may know, when The Wolf chooses its prey a spirit guardian watches over it until such time as the Great Wolf decides that the child is ready for the bite. We call these spirits Bly Tach, I believe you refer to them as Kin Fetches. Anyway, when I was born the Great Wolf sent one of these spirits to watch over me. The problem arose when the Wyrm also sent a watcher to claim me as its own. For quite some time these spirits watched each other as they watched me, waiting for the change to take place. I could go into some detail of my childhood, telling you about my life in elementary school and what my friends were like, but I think you are most likely more interested in what happened to me on a more spiritual level. Am I right? I thought so.

About halfway through my ninth year of life I began to have dreams, I am sure you know of the sort I speak. I dreamt of wolves, huge white wolves chasing me through the forests of some unknown location. I dreamt of monsters hiding in the shadows. But most of all I kept dreaming of an enormous white wolf, the Great Wolf. I feared him like no other being I have encountered; in fact, I still fear him . . . and his hate. He stalked me through my every waking and dreaming moment. His fierce eyes burning into me. Think to your first change, cub. Think to the rush, the pain, and the power of your first change and your first frenzy. Now imagine a spirit that embodies that experience. Yes, it was quite a sight to behold but it was also one I did not wish to tangle with. Well, the Great Wolf had other plans for me and caught up with me in my dreams. I was cornered deep in a cave, I could hear his low growl as he entered the room. He stopped for a second, sniffing the air and let out a terrible howl and lunged at me gnashing my chest while holding me down with his paws. I tried to let out a scream but was unable to, as he had already throated me. His eyes locked with mine and his fury became my own. I understood what it meant to hate, not to dislike, but to hate. In his eyes, I saw a Falcon fall into the flames and everything went red. A few moments later I found myself stood in full battle form, throwing the Great Wolf off my body I let out a howl not dissimilar to his own. I woke up soon after, as we all do from nightmares, and stayed wide awake for the remainder of the evening - too afraid to sleep.

Now, while this was happening the Bly Tach, recognizing that I had just received the bite and was about to get big and ugly in a hurry, left to find help. The Wyrm�s Bly Tach went to the nearest Black Spiral Dancer hive and informed them of my location, whereas Gaia�s raced off in search of anyone who would listen. As I am a tribeless orphan Gaia�s Bly Tach did not know where to go and ran howling to the nearest Caern and there it came across an Ahroun Child of Gaia who went by the name Gaia�s-Bloody-Tears.

Being a wise and elder Garou, Tears realized that if I was not rescued I would become yet another Black Spiral Dancer. Donning his traditional battle dress he entered Tir An Ko�leh (That which knows), you know it as the Umbra, and followed the Bly Tach to my home.

I was asleep in my bed when I heard the gunshots and screams of my parents. Cautiously opening the door and looking down the hall I saw the shadow of a monster lean back and howl while the other giggled. Horrified, I slammed the door and escaped through the window. Luckily, I had an advantage in the chase that followed, I was young and no one knows the back alleys of a city like a young boy. But all of my streetwise could not counter the speed and hunting skills of a werewolf. They chased me through the alleys, toying with me and driving me further into areas I was unfamiliar with. I screamed until my voice when hoarse but no one came to my aid.

Finally, I found myself in the dead end of an alley. Two pairs of glowing eyes slowing lumbered towards me, giggling. �Come on, Erik, don�t make this any harder than it has to be,� said one. �We want to be friends,� said the other. �Just c-� his voice was abruptly cut off as a claw punched through his chest. Towering over his crumpling body was an enormous silver monster. It was like something out of a horror film. Without pausing to remove his bloodied claw from the chest of the BSD he lashed out with his other claw, cleaning ripping his head off with one stroke. The decapitated skull rolled towards me, its eyes staring blankly into space and its mouth formed into an unholy scream of terror, then everything went red. That was my initiation into Garou society.