I was born of a union of love. My mother walked in the dark beauty of the fairest ones of the desert. My father was an alpha of his tribe. He was not a Strider and I dare not speak the name of his tribe, for to do so would only bring dishonor to my father's memory. Their love was forbidden, and their punishment.....final. They chose their paths in full knowledge and left me, a mewling pup, with those who would raise me. They took hundreds of Wyrmspawn with them as they died. I honor their memory and bravery by walking the face of Gaia and giving of myself in the war against the Wyrm.
Unlike many of my tribe, I am small in stature. I stand 5 feet in boots and look small even in the voluminous, desert robes I wear to protect me from the sun that would burn my white, albino skin. My robes are white with blue thread designs sewn into them. My hair is snow white and falls almost to the ground when released from my hood. I always wear dark, mirrored glasses because pink eyes seem to disconcert most people. I carry a carpet bag which holds all my possessions, not the least of which is WYRMBANE, my sawed off shotgun. She and I are never far from each other.
We traveled for many days and finally arrived on the night the great gathering was to be held. The caern was beautiful in the moonlight and excitement filled the air. All the young ones, kinfolk, and Garou, were wide-eyed with anticipation and ran through the caern trying to see everything and everyone at once. (I remember the times I was the same......almost.) There were representitives from many tribes and packs. The reading of a silver log is a wonderful thing and I knew that a great night was in store.
We were gathered together, finally, into the meeting hall and quiet was called into being. The young ones were, of course, placed in the front and seated in a semi-circle on the floor while the elders stood behind. A small female wearing a cloak of beautiful, silver color, walked forward carrying a huge, leather-bound book from which dangled a rather interesting object: a tail. She shifted to Crinos and the silver cloak still fit her.
As has been done for ages unknown at every gathering of the Changing Tribes, the Litany was read with solemnity and beauty.
GAROU SHALL NOT MATE WITH GAROU
COMBAT THE WYRM WHEREVER IT DWELLS AND WHENEVER IT BREEDS
RESPECT THE TERRITORY OF ANOTHER
ACCEPT AN HONORABLE SURRENDER
BE SUBMISSIVE TO THOSE OF HIGHER STATION
THE FIRST SHARE OF THE KILL SHALL BE FOR THE GREATEST IN STATION
YE SHALL NOT EAT THE FLESH OF HUMANS
RESPECT THOSE BENEATHE YE - ALL ARE OF GAIA
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