Multiple Settings Brave Enough - A Werewolf: the Apocalypse Quest

[Obi-Wan Kenobi]

Full moon is the most obvious option, but to be honest I kind of want to see a Ragabash in a quest. It could fit. I have faith you could make any of these fit, really. So I'll vote for New Moon. Screw it.

 

[buggybran]

New Moon

 

[Jairain]

I'm torn between judge and trixter. Warrior is just too obvious and the better stories come from contradiction of type.

 

[Bysmerian]

I was concerned about being the only person saying New Moon, but apparently I'm not alone. If nothing else, Sigrid seems well-set-up to function as a (high-rage) questioner of the ways.

 

[wonderandawe]

I was concerned about being the only person saying New Moon, but apparently I'm not alone. If nothing else, Sigrid seems well-set-up to function as a (high-rage) questioner of the ways.

Good thing extra Rage is one bonus point a peice. (There are 15 bonus points available)

 

[Howdyparker]

So far she's been played as a full moon. I think trickster would be fun, but I think that's a major shift away from how she's been built up so far.. Sports, brawler, etc..

 

[Nutmeggera]

I have to say everything to this point indicates Full Moon

 

[Fadence]

Gibbous Moon (Galliard, the Bard) - Those born under the Gibbous Moon are called Galliards. The Galliard sings the soul of the Garou. They are the voice of the People, calling them to battle and inspiring them to greatness in life and in death. They are also keepers of traditions, carrying the lore of tribes all the way back to the beginning. Within the pack, Galliards stir the emotions of their packmates. They represent their pack to the rest of the Garou.

 

[Wise Old Guru]

Hm. I vote Trickster or Bard.

We've been dropped into a new world, here, and our story is going to be about learning about that world and either mastering it...or changing it.

If everyone expects us to be the Galliard, it gives us a reason to ask lots of questions about the secret history of the world and how all this magic junk works-we need this information to do the job YOU assigned, crazy magic-people! Galliard gives us the most information-and if we can learn fast, a lot of social power, since apparently our family history is a big deal around here?

If we're Tricksters, it means we get to be the outside perspective on this insular magic community. We get to ask lots of questions...and we get a bit more leeway when we say, "Nah, that particular tradition is dumb and I'm not gonna do it." Ragabash gives us the most freedom...and I expect we're gonna want freedom and bad. We're dealing with people who sucked Mom all the way back from a different city, having a built-in social role where they expect us to rebel and reward us for it isn't a bad idea.

 

[wonderandawe]

Guys, I have no fucking clue how to turn a headstrong Sigrid into a sly trickster. The decisions up to this point have avoided any attempt at stealth or taking any method besides straightforward. I am totally blow away that Ragabash is winning. I really only included that choice to list all the Auspices.

You guys are obviously seeing something I am not, so I'll think about it a bit more. Maybe I can turn her into a scout type character that can grow into being a trickster?

If Ragabash is the majority decision, I'll follow the vote, but man you guys aren't making it easy for me.

 

[Obi-Wan Kenobi]

Guys, I have no fucking clue how to turn a headstrong Sigrid into a sly trickster. The decisions up to this point have avoided any attempt at stealth or taking any method besides straightforward. I am totally blow away that Ragabash is winning. I really only included that choice to list all the Auspices.

You guys are obviously seeing something I am not, so I'll think about it a bit more. Maybe I can turn her into a scout type character that can grow into being a trickster?

If Ragabash is the majority decision, I'll follow the vote, but man you guys aren't making it easy for me.

Well, if you don't think Ragabash is all that workable for you, I'd rather not make you write it. I'll switch to being born under a Full Moon.

 

[wonderandawe]

The Vote Count so far

Full Moon
Eura
Howdy Parker
Nutmeggera
Fezzes
JayTee

New Moon
buggybran
Jairain (?)
Bysmerian
Wise Old Guru (?)

Gibbous Moon
Fadence
Wise Old Guru (?)

Half Moon
Jairain (?)

 

[JayTee]

There is no problem that cannot be solved with sufficient application of force. Full Moon!

 

[wonderandawe]

I should note Sigrid isn't going to stop asking questions or being rebellious. New Moon doesn't have a monopoly on Rebellious Teens.

 

[Bysmerian]

I should note Sigrid isn't going to stop asking questions or being rebellious. New Moon doesn't have a monopoly on Rebellious Teens.

Absolutely true. On the other hand, Full Moon doesn't have a monopoly on angry werewolves; a lot of Sigrid's temper issues right now which seem to define her seem to be as much about the incipient First Change as any underlying personality issues.

TBH, if it were just kind of assumed Sigrid was a Full Moon and never gotten a vote, it would have felt a little strange at not getting the choice, but would have fit just fine with everything we'd seen thus far. Given the choice, though, I'm really inclined to try to create at least the appearance of contradiction.

 

[megapixel]

Full moon

 

[Jairain]

Dude write the story u can write, we will make plenty of choices. We trust u to kick ass.

 

[wonderandawe]

Absolutely true. On the other hand, Full Moon doesn't have a monopoly on angry werewolves; a lot of Sigrid's temper issues right now which seem to define her seem to be as much about the incipient First Change as any underlying personality issues.

TBH, if it were just kind of assumed Sigrid was a Full Moon and never gotten a vote, it would have felt a little strange at not getting the choice, but would have fit just fine with everything we'd seen thus far. Given the choice, though, I'm really inclined to try to create at least the appearance of contradiction.

I'm going to be completely honest here, because I am meddling with the vote way more than I am comfortable with. I have probably have players who have lost faith in the voting process because of my meddling. I am going to own up to what is going on in my head.

I fucked up.

I fucked up in two ways:

1. I should not have given the players both the option of choosing both Attributes and Auspice. In my last quest, I had my players choose Caste and then I assigned attributes based on that caste. I should have the players the choose Attributes and then picked the appropriate Auspice based on that. Or vise versa. I try not to set my players up for Failure. If a PC is going to fail, I prefer it to be based on their actions not poor character creation choices.

2. When I started this quest I really didn't want either Crescent Moon nor No Moon to be the Auspice. It's always dangerous to go into a quest with preferences like this. This was a shitty time to implement the "illusion of choice". I should have been up front about my preferences and dropped those two Auspices from the list. I actually was hoping for a Gibbous Moon, but I'll take Full or Half Moon too.

I always end up playing the mystic or the trickster and needed a break from that character type. My last quest character ended up being a Chosen of Secrets. A Ragabash can have high rage, but in my opinion Sigrid doesn't think in the twisty ways needed to be a Trickster. She is very straight forward and persistent in her attempts to find out information. At least that is how I was trying to write her. I've spent the past week wondering if I have played the trickster so often, I can't write anything but the trickster. Is there something inherent in my writing style that leads players to choose the digger of information and the questioner of ways? Is Sigrid just a female version of my last quest character despite my attempts to give Sigrid her own voice? I am unable to write more than one character? I don't know.

I'm not going to meddle with the votes anymore, because it just makes me feel bad.

 

[Obi-Wan Kenobi]

I'm going to be completely honest here, because I am meddling with the vote way more than I am comfortable with. I have probably have players who have lost faith in the voting process because of my meddling. I am going to own up to what is going on in my head.

I fucked up.

I fucked up in two ways:

1. I should not have given the players both the option of choosing both Attributes and Auspice. In my last quest, I had my players choose Caste and then I assigned attributes based on that caste. I should have the players the choose Attributes and then picked the appropriate Auspice based on that. Or vise versa. I try not to set my players up for Failure. If a PC is going to fail, I prefer it to be based on their actions not poor character creation choices.

2. When I started this quest I really didn't want either Crescent Moon nor No Moon to be the Auspice. It's always dangerous to go into a quest with preferences like this. This was a shitty time to implement the "illusion of choice". I should have been up front about my preferences and dropped those two Auspices from the list. I actually was hoping for a Gibbous Moon, but I'll take Full or Half Moon too.

I always end up playing the mystic or the trickster and needed a break from that character type. My last quest character ended up being a Chosen of Secrets. A Ragabash can have high rage, but in my opinion Sigrid doesn't think in the twisty ways needed to be a Trickster. She is very straight forward and persistent in her attempts to find out information. At least that is how I was trying to write her. I've spent the past week wondering if I have played the trickster so often, I can't write anything but the trickster. Is there something inherent in my writing style that leads players to choose the digger of information and the questioner of ways? Is Sigrid just a female version of my last quest character despite my attempts to give Sigrid her own voice? I am unable to write more than one character? I don't know.

I'm not going to meddle with the votes anymore, because it just makes me feel bad.

Hey, man, it's alright. I'm still here and I'm not gonna leave. I'm going to shill for you, in fact. You might've screwed up a little, but it's alright. As Bruce Lee says "Mistakes are always forgivable, if one has the courage to admit them."

 

[Jairain]

I enjoy your written and that's why I stay. That's why I will continue to stay. Buck up my friend I can't wait for the continuation.

 

[wonderandawe]

I did some thinking and decided to redo the vote.

I'll post on Monday and have neither Sigrid or Alex not know her Auspice. At the end of next Mondays post, I'll offer the decision point again sans Theurge/Crescent and Ragabash/new moon. I'll write the descriptions of the other three auspices though the lens of a high rage character.

If the vote goes to Gibbous moon, I will switch Sigrid social and mental traits. She will still be an athlete, but a more charismatic one.

This returns the choice back to the players, allows me to write a non trickster/mystic pc, and fixes a potential problem with the the Attributes.

Any comments or concerns?

 

[JayTee]

You do you, Wonderandawe. The GM having fun is just as important as the players.

 

[wonderandawe]

“Do you know what my Auspice is?” you ask.

Alex scratches the back of his head and shakes his head no.

You frown in disappointment. Yet another question for your father if he shows up. You head to the truck stop’s small but clean showers. Eager to return to the action in the store, you plan on a quick shower. Once in the stall, you doddle under the hot water. Drops fall onto your back and tense muscles relax. As you wash off the soapy runes, your mind clears of the hazy fog of dread and fear. The door of the women's showers swings open. The sound of a bag hitting the tile floor startles you. You poke your head out of the curtain and see nothing but a swinging door. A grey gym bag lies on the floor.

You wrap yourself in a towel and search through the bag of clothes. Alex did not find much, mostly the cast offs of others. A yellow sunflower dress seems promising, but too short for you. A pair of cargo shorts prove to be too big. You slip on a pair of mesh athletic shorts. Still overlarge, but they fit with the drawstring pulled tight. You snort when you find a 2015 Kirksville Crawfish Festival tee shirt. A viking, hammer held high, chases a swarm of fleeing scarlet crawfish. You pull the Festival shirt over your head. With the important bits covered, you head back out to the store.

The food has been cleaned up and the shelves sit empty. A group of armed men stand by the back office, cursing the broken camera. A lab coat clad woman with coffee and cream skin draws blood from the corpse. Alex, still dressed in bloody clothes, mops the floor in flowing meditative strokes. The awkward and clumsy boy gone, Alex’s sure and steady movements are hypnotizing. Lost in his work, he doesn’t notice you staring. You force yourself to shift your focus away from the boy and to his work. Alex isn’t drawing any glyphs with the mop. Is he performing another cleansing rite? If so, you don't dare interrupt him.

The doctor packs up and leaves. You look around for the sheriff. Is someone going to take your statement? Chase after the fleeing robber? You are restless with the need to do something. You sit against a shelf, watch Alex mop, and feel useless.

A truck door slams, distracting you from Alex’s mopping. The sound of your father’s deep rumbling voice sends your heart racing. You have not seen your father since you were seven when he came to Austin to sign the divorce papers. You hope you don’t get blamed for this mess at the truck stop. An irrational thought, you didn’t cause the junkies to rob the place.

Your father enters the store. He is a tall man in his mid thirties. His short brown hair is streaked with grey. Frown lines etch his sun baked face. His work books are well worn and dusted with red clay. He is dressed in a black tee shirt and khaki hiking pants. Tied around his waist is a faded army green jacket. You remember that jacket. Even in the summer heat, it is never far from his side. What you don’t remember is the scars. Your father’s thick muscular arms are covered in long thin scars. A ghastly white blotch gouges his throat.

Your father surveys the wreckage of the store, displeasure radiating from his ice blue eyes. He has not noticed you yet. You stand up. The movement attracts his attention. His brows knit in confusion, trying to place you. Then he draws in breath when he recognizes you. “You aren’t a little girl anymore,” he accuses.

“A lot happens in eight years,” you retort. As soon as you say the words, you wish you could call them back.

Your father ignores your sharp remark. He takes a step forward and engulfs you in an embrace. You feel solid strength in his arms. You bury your face in his shoulder. You smell oak, sweat, and some unidentifiable musk. “I missed you, Cupcake.” His whisper barely audible, but thick with emotion. He pulls away and just drinks in the sight of you. He notices your bare feet. “Where are your shoes?”

“Mom has them.”

He grunts and surveys the ruined store again. “I hate we had to meet here. I had it all planned. I’d show you around. Tell you want I do. I was going to grill steak. How do you like your steak?”

“Rare.” You wipe away unshed tears.

Your father breaks out into a grin. “That’s exactly how I like them.” His eyes fall on the corpse and his grin falters. “I got some business to take of first before we can eat those steaks. Nathan!” your father calls.

“Sir?” The Sheriff pokes his head out of the back office.

“Have one of your men take Sigrid to her mother. They are staying at Oma Rothenberg’s old house.” Oma is the German word for Grandmother.

“Yes, sir.”

“Yeah… That’s not happening.” You announce. You will not let your father discard you like some inconvenient puppy. “I’m staying with you until I know everything that is going on.”

All conversation in the back office comes to a halt. Sheriff Nathan stares at you, mouth agape. Alex pauses in his mopping to see your father’s reaction.

Your defiance even shocks your father. “Sigrid,” Your father says through gritted teeth. “I don’t have time for this. We will meet tomorrow after school like we agreed.”

“You never have time for this.” You smack yourself on the chest. Your father has always chosen work over his family. Knowing he is a sacred werewolf warrior doesn’t lessen your bitterness at this fact. “I saw Alex get shot and now he is mopping like nothing fucking happened. I got a magic bird following me. And Joe the clerk tells me you can turn into a wolf. I want to know what is going on.”

Your father gives Joe the clerk a dark look. Joe’s face pales and he mutters something unintelligible and retreats to the back office. Your father’s attention falls back on you. “Sigrid, I have a dangerous bane on the loose and now a Wyrm tainted drug addict wandering my territory….”

“I have no clue what the fuck any of that means!” You interrupt.

Your father continues over your protests. “....Should the two meet, there is no telling what damage the bane could do. I need to put both down before this occurs. I do not have time to deal with your teenage rebellious bullshit.”

“That’s the problem!” You protest. “How could I not resent you when you go off to who knows where?!” Your father’s face reddens with rage. You wonder if you have pushed him too far. You have never dealt with your father’s temper in person, but you can not back down now.

“Sir?” The Sheriff approaches. “Alex said the assailant wasn’t a Fomori. I already have my men tracking him down. You could take the afternoon off to spend with your daughter.”

Alex signs at your father. You recognize him fingerspelling your name. The gawky deaf boy is talking about you. Your father responses in ASL, but also speaks his words out loud. “You sure the man wasn’t a Fomori?”

Alex responses, the only sign you recognize is ‘peek’.

It doesn’t take long for your father to make his decision. “I’ll be back at sunset. Come on, Sigrid.” He orders. You follow your father out to an old dark green pickup truck. The fading logo for Crying Rock Wilderness Preserve visible on the door. You and your father get into the truck. He sits in the driver seat, keys in hand. He frowns, unsure what to do with you now you are here. “You aren’t going to make this easy on me.”

“Nope.” You cross your arms.

He grunts, accepting this. “I’ll show you around town.” He turns the ignition and drives out of the parking lot. You and your father sit in silence as he drives towards Kirksville. You drive pass some long horned ebony cattle foraging in the scrub. Your father clears his throat. “Are you going to ask your questions or sit there like a lump?”

“What’s a bane?”

“Banes are evil spirits in the service of the Wyrm, our enemy. Banes corrupt and destroy everything the touch. Fomori are humans possessed by banes. A wyrm tainted drug addict is ripe for possession. ” Your father explains, anticipating your next question about Fomori.

“And Garou hunt these banes and fomori?”

“It’s why we exist.”

“When were you going to tell me about everything?”

“About now,” your father says. “If you lived in town, you would have grown up knowing. We couldn’t risk you mouthing off about werewolves in Austin.” He shifts in his seat. “Your mother preferred you not knowing. Wanted to give you a normal childhood.” His manner says he wants to add more, but he stays silent. Your have heard similar silences from your mother when the topic of your father comes up.

“Did you break my arm?” Might as well get that question out of the way.

“No!” Your father glances away from the road at you. “You don’t remember what happened?”

“I don’t remember much before I left Kirksville.” You were only five when you left.

“When you were little, we used to play a game. You’d climb the big live oak in Oma Rothenburg’s backyard and jump into my arms.”

“That sounds….dangerous.” And a lot of fun. You could see your five year old self loving that game.

“I’d never let you fall.” Your father assures you.

“Except for the time I broke my arm.”

“You hit a branch on the way down.” Your father frowns. “We never told your mother about our game. She’d have a fit about how dangerous it was. And she was right. It was a stupid dangerous game. I wasn’t much older than a kid myself and I thought as a Garou I could do no wrong.” Your father steals a glance at you. “Sigrid, I would never let you fall.”

The truck drives over a hill. A pink domed rock dotted with verdant green trees rises above the scrub landscape. Tumbled boulders surround the rock, as if some great giant threw down long ago. Your heart swells at the site of the old rock. A memory surfaces of watching the sun set behind the rock. “Crying Rock will keep the Sun safe for Gaia until she raises it in the morning.” Your grandmother’s voice echoes in your memory.

Spread below the rock is the town of Kirksville. The domed rock dwarfs the small town. Kirksville consists of a single square of businesses surrounded by cow fields and scrub. A row of houses line a large lake reflecting the Crying Rock. Random farm houses dot the landscape.

“That’s Crying Rock.” Your father’s voice warms with pride. “Not the most powerful caern, but we protect the largest kinfolk settlement in North America. Most of us are Get of Fenris, though there are still a few Uktena families in town. The wolf kin have some Child of Gaia blood in them…”

“Wait Wait… You are terrible at explaining things.” You scold your father. He threw out so many new terms, you don’t know where to begin. “Get of Fenris and Child of Gaia. What are those? Packs of Garou?”

“Those are tribes. The Garou Nation has thirteen tribes.”

“That’s a lot of tribes.” You doubt you’ll remember them all.

“We only have representatives of four tribes at Crying Rock. Get of Fenris is our tribe. We are the strongest warriors in the Garou Nation. When things go to shit, the other tribes call on us to take care of the problem.” You have heard stories of Fenris throughout your childhood and now those myths have become relevant to your real life.

“Uktena are one of the Native American tribes. Crying Rock was their Caern for generations. They were unable to protect the Crying Rock from some Gnosis thieves depleting the Caern. Our ancestors were passing though and they couldn’t leave one of Gaia’s sacred sites to be desecrated. Blood Freezing Wind challenged the Sept Alpha and won leadership of Crying Rock.“

“Blood Freezing Wind? What is the story behind his deed name?”

“Her deed name,” Your father corrects. “That story was lost, though Breaks the Dawn- that’s your Aunt Ella’s deed name- is trying to recover it. Blood Freezing Wind’s human name was Ermentrud Kirk. She is our many times great grandmother. Kirksville is name after her. ”

“Children of Gaia are the peacekeepers.” Your father continues. “They work to keep the rest of the tribes from ripping out each others throats out.“

“You met your Uncle Greg and Aunt Andrea in Austin. They are Glasswalkers- city wolves. They mess around with computers and guns and take care of our legal shit. In recent years, the Wyrm has resorted to cowardly means to corrupt our caern. We had to form a private Wilderness Refuge to avoid government regulation…. Blah. That’s all boring shit you don’t want to hear. “

You attempting to absorb your father’s words. “Alex mentioned Auspices. He said he was a shaman, born under the crescent moon. What is my Auspice?”


What is your Auspice?

• Full Moon, the Warriors (Arhoun) - An Ahroun are Gaia’s anger given form. All Ahroun overflow with rage at Gaia’s defilement by the Wyrm. An Ahroun is the first one into battle and the last one to leave. She will defend their pack mates to her dying breath. She fights the Wyrm with such intensity, the rest of the Garou can not help but follow her into battle.
  
  
• Gibbous Moon, the Bards (Galliard) - A high rage Galliard is overflowing with passion. She laughs, sings, and loves like there is no tomorrow. In battle she is not far behind the Ahroun. Who better to tell of the battle than one who was there to share the glory? A Galliard fights like a demon and never surrenders. She tells of past glories to inspire and of past failures to educate.
  
  
• Half-Moon, the Judges (Philodox) - A high rage Philodox is a harsh, but fair mistress of the laws of the Garou Nation. A Philodox learns the law as a cub and can recite it when needed. A Philodox passes judgement over law breaking Garou and carries out any necessary punishment. She gives the Garou Nation structure and purpose and will run down any Garou who flees her justice.

Out of Character Commentary
I took an aspect of Sigrid’s character and amplified it for each Auspice.

Full Moon - Sigrid, an outcaste her whole life, is angry at the world. She is a natural leader, if those around her are not put off by her rage. The few friends she has she will defend with her life.

Gibbous Moon - Sigrid is a passionate individual, who loves the tales of her people. A passionate individual, she plays hard and fights hard, and thinks about the consequences later.

Half Moon - Sigrid is keenly aware of the traditions and laws of society, having broken human law as a consequence of her rage. Now she has found a society suited to her nature, she will uphold that society’s laws at all costs.

Werewolf the Apocalypse Setting Spoilers

Spoiler

I’ll fully admit to paraphasing the Get of Fenris rule book for the Auspice descriptions. Don’t worry. Sigrid will still have a choice of Tribes at her rite of passage.

Out of Character Commentary

 

[Obi-Wan Kenobi]

You write really well, man. Good job.

You know, I like the sound of a Galliard Sigrid. Let's go with that.

 

[Nutmeggera]

Hmm, with that write up I'm going to vote Gibbous.