Joshua Thunder

I am Joshua Thunder-Stands-Astride-the-World. I am Modi and Athro of the Get of Fenris. In this day I owe allegiance to none, though before I was sworn to serve the Hand of Tyr. I live now on the Plain of the Apocalypse where one day I shall fight and die again in the final battle against the Despiser. I died with honor intact, none shall ever say that I had forgotten the face of my father.

Ahh... I see by the look in your eye that you have heard of me, no? One wonders what I am remembered for, the bloody battles against Corruption, or the bloody battle for my own soul�s redemption? I see, well, rarely is one remembered for the things that one wishes to be remembered for right? I notice that your companion looks a bit confused. She is but a cub? I thought as much. She has that air about her. Casual innocence. Perhaps it might be worthwhile to fill her in a bit on the blood and guts side.

I was a great Klaive dueler. One of the greatest ever in the Nation if you put any stock in the stories they told about me. I don�t particularly believe them, I suspect that there were others far more skilled than I. Regardless, I don�t deny that I was pretty damn good. I am credited with forty-eight kills, the number is actually fifty-one, three of them occurred away from a Sept where they could be properly observed. Klaviskar is a fine art. It takes years of grueling practice and a certain knack. Luck really has very little to do with it. Few Get of Fenris ever become very proficient with the Klaive, preferring to rely on their claws. The problem is that many of them are frankly much too large to use a Klaive effectively, and Grand Klaives are few and extraordinarily difficult to come by. The ideal wielder of a "simple" Klaive is small and quick. The quicker, the better. Strength really has very little to do with it... I apologize. I can see by the look on your faces that I�m going off on a tangent and leaving you behind. Pardon me.

So there you have it. You can see why I had a reputation as something of a traitor to my own kind. One rarely has friends in the Garou nation when you have killed as many Garou as some Nexus Crawlers. I fear though that few remember the other deeds I accomplished with my Klaive. I fought dozens of leeches, legions of Banes, hordes of Black Spiral Dancers, armies of fomori. I single handedly slew two packs of Black Spiral Dancers in fact. It�s funny though, I think that my own tribe hated me more than the servants of Corruption did. Sorry, I think I was about to go off on another train of thought. I�ll get to that later. I want you to all understand though that I was not the blood-thirsty raging monster that I was often portrayed as. The fact is, I hate war. I hate violence. I should have been a Child of Gaia. Methinks that my temperament was much more suited towards that direction Regardless though, we can�t choose our parents right?

Circumstance forced me to become a warrior and never would I allow myself to be accused to betraying my sacred honor. God ordained that I was born under the full moon. Who am I to question the will of God?

Ahh, I see that you wonder about my deeper past. Step over here where I may sit down. Thank you, even in death my back pains me. Well, the Apocalypse shall come soon enough, no?

I was born in the Year of Our Lord, Nineteen-Hundred and Sixty-Eight, at the Sept of Wotan�s Holy Fire in Argentina. My father was the Jarl of the sept, my birth was heralded by the Theurges as being a great sign from Fenris. You see, I was born not only under the full moon but when the planet of the war god was high in the sky. They said that when my mother gave birth there was a great lightning storm as if Thor Himself was celebrating. Also, at the same time a wolf Kinfolk gave birth to a litter of puppies with eight legs. A sign from Wotan they called it. Yes, it is true. Not only were they Get of Fenris at that Caern though, they were also Swords of Heimdall. My father was one of the famed "War Wolves" who served in the SS. As he was the Jarl of the Sept it was expected that when I came of age I would take over his duties. There was a catch though, my mother, a Kinfolk who was but a child when she came along with the Swords when they fled the Fatherland, was Jude. My father of course kept this secret from the other Swords, his reasons for doing so were his own, I have never even begun to try to understand why a Garou who dedicated his life to preserving racial purity would have done such a thing. You know, I have not seen my father on the Plain of the Apocalypse, I wonder where his spirit went after he died. Was he born again to the Get of Fenris? Or is there a special place reserved for those who die as full of hate as he did? Perhaps he was lifted to Valhalla. I apologize, I again digress.

My mother was not actually a full-blooded Jude, all I have ever been able to find out is that her grandfather�s name was Goldman. Perhaps he concealed the truth because he truly loved her, if such a thing is possible for a man so full of hate. Perhaps he concealed the truth because it amused him to keep her as a trophy of sorts. Regardless though, the fact remains that on his deathbed he decided that no longer could he live with the knowledge of his treachery against the Swords and he revealed his secret to the Elders of the Sept. The Fatherland Council as it was known at the time. I was away from the Caern with my pack... ahh, I see that I am skipping over a large part of my childhood. I apologize, it is just so far from my mind that it may as well have never been.

From the day I left the womb I was brought up amongst the Garou. I was the first male child of my father�s and in my line no first male child has failed to go through his Change in five hundred years. So consequently from the time I could first walk and talk I was trained to be a Garou. A Klaive was put in my hand as soon as I could lift it. As all Get children, I was beaten from a very early age, soon I learned how to ignore pain. The worst beating I ever received was from the hands of my father, it was when I was failing in my lessons, he left me with a broken arm and permanent scars I bared until death. My father was a great Modi, it was many years before I was able... pardon me. Death has made me a bit scatterbrained, no? When I was ten years old I Changed, at which point my father personally took over my training. He said it was because I was to be the next Jarl of the Sept, but looking back on it now I suspect that my father even then knew what was going to be in store for me and wanted me as prepared as possible for the trials of life. Even though he was a hard man and in many respects an evil man, he was still a good father.

When I was sixteen, I and four other cubs were sent out into the wild to live for six turns of Luna. Six months later, four of us returned to the Caern to take our place as Garou, and I was the pack alpha, having slain the first Alpha in ritual challenge.

Many years passed, I proved my worth in battle many times I reached the rank of Fostern and I was, as all Get of Fenris, put through the Rite of War. During the Rite of War you must fight two Adren rank Get armed with Klaives. You are given nothing but your claws. The point is to survive until the end of the Rite. Many Fenris die, it is to be expected. I not only survived, I came out with no scars and the heads of those who were sent to face me. Why did I kill them you ask? They were weak. They underestimated me. It matters nothing, they would in time be born again to the Get of Fenris. In underestimating me they had forgotten the face of their father�s. They paid for their mistake with their life. Fenris Wolf does not suffer the weak to live. Such a thing was an almost unprecedented act, and now that I think about it, even as my father congratulated me for my valor, I saw fear in his eyes again. After that, I began to see that same fear more in the eyes of all around me. Less and less did the Elders talk to me, less and less did the other wolves gather around me. I was left alone, except by my pack, who seemed to follow me more out of fear than out of any real loyalty. I did not see that than though, at the time my pack was my life. We did many great deeds, many minions of the Despiser fell before our claws. I have no time to recount those deeds here though, besides, they are long in the past.

I have been told that when my father lay on his deathbed, he called the Fatherland Council to him one last time. Motioning for the Eldest among them to lean over the bed, he whispered something in his ear. His duplicity revealed, he gave up the ghost, and made my life forfeit as well.

When my pack arrived back at the Caern, having just slain a great Bane, I was called aside and taken under guard to the Elder�s circle. I was brought before Deitrich Crimson-Moon-Bursts, the great Theurge of the Swords, and he looked at me for a long moment than spat out a single word.

Jude! A low murmur started to go around the circle. Jude... Jude... Jude... Jude... I was placed on trial for crimes against Gaia, crimes against Fenris and crimes against the Swords of Heimdall. I was convicted by the Fatherland Council in less than ten minutes. What happened to my mother? I never found out, I assume she was slain the moment the secret was revealed. My doom, Deitrich said, was to be torn asunder by those who had previously been the companions of my life. The Rite of the Hunt was called upon me and my former packmates were sent on the chase. They confronted me at the bank of a stream. They were all dead in two minutes. Hans The-Fist-of-the-Rhine had been given my father�s Klaive to wield against me. I decided to take it with me, my own Klaive having been broken when the Rite of the Hunt was called.

My search for meaning had begun. Since as long as I could remember the Swords of Heimdall had been my life. Now, I was told that I was everything they stood against. I was an example of the race mixing that was the harbinger of the Despiser�s power. Worse than that, I was Jude. I decided to travel to America. I will not speak of my experiences in the Andes mountains, or the Amazon, or the jungles of Panama. They are irrelevant.

I met her in Mexico. Who is she? She was my only love, her name was Glides-Silently-Through-the-Hidden-Paths. She was a Galliard of the Silent Striders. We met in a small Caern on the Pacific coast of Mexico. I was staying for the night, she was traveling back up to a Caern in Arizona. We both decided to travel together, as Mexico can be a dangerous place, and there is safety in numbers. Ahh yes, I almost forgot, near Mexico City I was attacked again by a Sword of Heimdall. I slew him, and buried his Grand Klaive in the desert, it was too large for me to carry with me. It was the first attack of what was to become a recurring pattern. It was from him that I learned of the price that the Swords had placed on my head. That Klaive became important again much later when a Garou by the name of Warsong, again, pardon me. I digress.

She taught me much, she helped me relearn what it was to be alive. She helped me find new meaning, new ways of thinking. She helped show me the hypocrisy of many who claim to labor in the name of Gaia. I think we realized we were in love somewhere near the Texas border.

Did we know that this was against the Litany? Of course. Did we care? Not a bit. At the time I would grow to greatly regret what I had done, but for than, all I could think about was the love I felt for her. We made plans to go somewhere secluded and live together our whole lives. I can�t describe what it was like really, words fail me here. I had never been so happy in my life.

Than one morning, I awoke, and she was gone. There was a note, she said that her duty to Gaia was more important than the love she felt for me. She said that I would be in her heart always. She hoped that I would understand. It was six years later before I found out that our sin had borne it�s twisted fruit.

I continued on, not caring where I went, traveling just to be moving. In time I came to a Caern of the Hand of Tyr. I do not even know how I found them, I can only assume that Fenris guided my steps. I cannot tell you where that Caern is, it�s location remains a deeply guarded secret, even today. What I can tell you though is that I stayed there for three years, the first year was spent in just learning to accept. In the second year I swore my allegiance to the Hand and until I left one year later I spent my time making myself into what I saw as the perfect warrior. Owing fealty to none except the principles of Justice, equally proficient with all weapons, but more importantly proficient with the greatest weapon of all, the mind. When I left it was the Year of Our Lord, Nineteen-Hundred and Ninety-Four. I was twenty-six and an Adren.

I made my way up and down California, doing battle with many leeches and other assorted minions of Corruption. At the Caern in San Francisco I was recognized as an Athro amongst the Nation. Soon after that, I heard that the Caern of Cooperation in Bellingham was in need of defenders so I traveled up there.

Ahh, it was a momentous time for the Nation. The Silver Fangs had recently called their infamous Imperial Moot where the spirit of Corruption overtook them. The Nation was falling into ruins, it�s leaders dead. The closest thing to King�s were the Margrave Yuri Kinetsko and Golgol Fangs-First. The Silver Crown was lost, Ilsebae Sword-Arm-of-Gaia was roaming North America searching for it, twisted into an insane mockery of her former self. Great things were afoot. I came to the Caern, only intending to stay for a few weeks to help them as they recovered from a major battle, only to be kept there by one event or another over the six months.

I met many, some of whom would eventually become the members of my next pack. Garou I could for the first time call friends. Whisperer-of-Secrets, Voice-of-Thunder, Laptop Has-A-Syntax-Error, Dr. Evan Marcus, Falcon�s Flaming Grin, Misha, Mikael, Shamus Voice-of-Gaia, Christine, Jeremy the Werespider, and of course Warsong Sings the North Wind�s Fury, he who would eventually slay me. For the first time since I left Argentina, I felt at home. I started to make plans to perhaps stay at the Caern of Cooperation for the long term. That�s when everything began to fall apart. The Get of Fenris and the Shadow Lords went to war. Suddenly, by virture of birth I was asked to choose sides. The Caern of Cooperation tried to stay out of the war, but I knew that I would have to fight for my tribe, the issue was decided when the Margrave Kinetsko slew Golgol Fangs-First in a sham of a challenge, a mockery, a farce. At the same time though, there were good times as well. I mentored Warsong, helping him to become a mighty Garou. I taught him how to fight with a Klaive and eventually sent him down to Mexico to collect the Grand Klaive that I had once buried there. I shared love and laughter with my packmates Whisper and Voice-of-Thunder. I shared thoughts and philosophy with my friend Evan Marcus.

Than the Get of Fenris began to gather for war in the Olympic National Forest under the banner of Beowulf Makes-You-His-Bitch and Peotr Please-To-Be-Tasting-Boot. Not long after the Alpha of our Caern, the infamous Vinnie, betrayed the Garou Nation and helped Pentex find the location of the Get Caern and destroy it utterly, to the last man, woman and child. It was not until much later that we discovered this, at the time we only knew that Vinnie was an incompetent Alpha and that there was something sinister about him. I went with the other Get of Fenris to view the carnage and there I discovered the body of my beloved. It seemed that she had been there to deliver a message. The wrong place at the wrong time you could say. She lived long enough to tell me about our child. As she gave up her ghost, I felt something inside me die. Going back to the Caern of Cooperation, I vowed that I would find those who were responsible and see them dead. I think it was that vow more than anything else, that left uncompleted has prevented me from seeing Valhalla.

I spent the next month in a haze. Vinnie was discredited and he vanished without a trace from the Caern. It was rumored that he walked the Black Spiral to increase his power. Whisper and Voice-of-Thunder were both killed, the love and laughter were gone. Soon thereafter Warsong reached the rank of Athro and became the Jarl of the Sept. I knew that the Get of Fenris would soon demand my death, as he was the Jarl of my Sept he would be forced to acquiesce to their demands or face the consequences. I knew that Warsong was. a true friend, that he would keep me at the Caern and prepare to fight the Get of Fenris to his last drop of blood rather than kill me. So I forced him to slay me rather than allow that to happen. I could not bare to see the Sept that I had grown to love be hurt because of my life. I made preparations for Falcon�s Flaming Grin to care for my child and went out to face Warsong, knowing that only one of us would leave the battlefield, and I didn�t really have the heart to live anymore. When it was all over he sent me out to sea like a true hero, my body resting on a flaming pyre.

None will ever say that Joshua Thunder-Stands-Astride-the-World had forgotten the face of his father. I died with my honor intact. I died like a Garou. I died like a Get of Fenris.