Not every inductee into the Black Spiral Dancers is a cub, unknowing of what it means to Dance. Every tribe has lost great warriors to the heart of Malfeas. The Black Spiral Dancers take a special pride in the were- wolves seduced from Gaia’s path. To throw an unwitting cub into the Spiral is one thing; to convince a seasoned Garou to forsake all she knows and dance into the service of the Wyrm is something completely different. Gaia’s Fallen are the terror of all Garou. Facing down the fallen mockery of the White Howlers offers a hazy reflection of a werewolf’s soul; it’s easy to cast them off as the insane, evil monstrosities they are. Demonizing the Black Spiral Dancers lets the Garou sleep at night knowing they’ve done a service to Gaia.
Then a Garou finds someone he once knew at the other end of his klaive, and a new horror tears into his soul. The White Howlers were lost centuries ago. Their corruption is an accepted relic of a painful past. A werewolf stalking a pack of Dancers only to find his supposedly-dead mother standing as their alpha faces the Wyrm at a new level. Gaia’s fallen are clear mirrors with Wyrm-tainted edges. Once a warrior accepts that a Garou can be coaxed into the Labyrinth and Dance of her own free will, trusting others becomes more difficult.
BOOK OF THE WYRM
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Inside his heart lurks the most frightening possibility of all: What if he’s next?
Seemingly paradoxically, fallen Gaian Garou are more zealous than those who Danced as cubs. The typi- cal Black Spiral Dancer lives in full ignorance of what it means to be one of Gaia’s blessed. For the Garou who used to belong to one of the thirteen tribes, however, she has known yet she chose to reject it. For whatever reason, the call of the Wyrm outweighed the call of Gaia. Many Garou try to rationalize the decision to save remnants of the lost packmate or septmate they once knew. But the truth still lingers in the air, tainting any tale they might sing. Even if the werewolf was thrown into the Labyrinth by the Black Spiral Dancers against her will, she still chose to join the Wyrm. She could have resisted; she could have chosen death. Every Garou faced with this horror must live wondering if he would be stronger than his fallen comrade.
Gaia’s fallen serve the Wyrm with a purpose unseen in many other Black Spiral Dancers. They each had a reason to fall, and no matter how unstable, that reason is all they have to explain why they allowed their souls into the Wyrm’s service. The last thing their crumbling minds can accept is that all the horrors they’ve inflicted on Gaia since they fell were to the song of the Wyrm’s laughter. The werewolves sabotage every Garou operation they can. They seek to prove that their new viewpoint is correct and the Nation is blind. A startling sense of desperation lurks underneath their motives, chewing away at what remains of their sanity. Even if one of the fallen could be saved, the weight of Harano would likely find her falling to her own claws.
The fallen offer another service to the Wyrm. They know the Garou with whom they used to run. They expose tribal, sept, and pack secrets to the Wyrm. Those that Dance find the chance to return with an opportunity not afforded any born Black Spiral Dancer. They can infiltrate the ranks of their former allies and sabotage their plans from within. The Garou are a volatile force. A spark in a strategic location can set packs, septs, and even tribes upon one another. They can leak informa- tion from the septs to the local Spirals, alerting them to allies, defensive strategies, and planned offensive efforts. A pack running into the teeth of well-prepared Wyrm- beasts is a recipe for disaster.
Commonly, the infiltrators remain undiscovered until it’s too late. They cause irreparable damage, and by the time the Garou uncover the offender, she has disappeared back into the darkness.
Why would a Gaian warrior accept the call of the Wyrm? In the end times of a seemingly lost war, a were- wolf might lose faith that he can make any difference. As faith dies, his Rage still burns, lashing out at anything
perceived as false hope. He begins his Dance on a mis- sion to show the Nation how wrong they are, how Gaia is doomed, and how stupid they are to believe anything else. Other Garou become lost as they watch the Wyld thrash back against the Wyrm. Tornados, earthquakes, and tidal waves can be just as destructive as any Wyrm- fed beast. With the Wyld wreaking vengeance, and not differentiating between friend and foe, the werewolf finds herself wondering why she’s even trying.
Some werewolves simply come to hate other Garou. Mother’s Voice is one example. Once an Adren of the Children of Gaia, Mother’s Voice received her vision early in her Cliath days. She would unite her sept with another that was only miles away. But she was ill-prepared for her reception among other werewolves. She struggled with both septs until they finally waged war on one another. In one last final act of frustration and rage, Mother’s Voice threw out her allegiance with the Garou. If they wanted to destroy each other, let them.
The Wyrm heard her and accepted her into its fold. Mother’s Voice was reborn as Wedge Tooth. Now, she infiltrates septs around the country, leaking information and keeping the Garou warring amongst themselves with well-placed rumors and lies.
Having dealt with all of the tribes, Wedge Tooth has insight to offer on their flaws, failings, and potential. While many Garou harbor general fatal flaws, working specifically to a tribe’s weakness grants a better chance to corrupt them to the Father’s service. Wedge Tooth offers her observations on each tribe below.
Black Furies
If there’s one thing the Black Spiral Dancers have over most of the Garou Nation from a Fury’s perspective, it’s that we don’t care about a werewolf’s gender. Male, female, both, neither… whatever so long as the job is done and done well. Still, liberating the mind of a Fury is difficult at best. She fights for the Mother, and she will go down fighting if she must.
Most cultures within the Garou Nation, however, are patriarchal. Females have to strive longer and harder to gain respect. Find the Furies who can’t stand by and watch a woman’s subjugation. Open their eyes to the suffering of women among the Garou. When they see the other tribes’ attitudes firsthand, the Rage and desire to remake the world in their image will fill their minds. Let them think they can remake it. In their Rage, they’ll further splinter the Garou Nation, attacking their would- be allies, and, as they take the first steps of the Dance, they will see the world of the Apocalypse, one where they can stand tall and haunt the streets, enforcing their desired laws of equality.
Bone Gnawers
They readily wallow in the worst of humanity’s filth. The hearty children of Rat know how to get by and make Gaia survive in places where others won’t tread. But that also means they know where to strike to kill Her. They understand cities like no one else, and they have the greatest human relay system, the dispossessed.
The best way to get to the Bone Gnawers? Their Kinfolk. Who gives a shit about Bone Gnawer Kin? Only the Bone Gnawers. The filthy, homeless, good- for-nothing people thieving and struggling just to get a meal — the rest of the Garou Nation, with the possible exception of the Children of Gaia, won’t touch them with a ten-foot pole. Find them, and then kill them. Call the police, claiming one of them has a gun and watch the SWAT team descend. After the justice system locks their Kinfolk away — or just shoots them dead for jaywalking — the Bone Gnawers will find few Garou care. The prisons are well out of their reach out in the wilderness, and the police look after their own. The Gnawers’ Rage will well up against the Nation, and the normally don’t-give-a-fuck Bone Gnawers will be ready to Dance. A deal here, some assistance there and the Gnawer kin can be freed — or avenged — at the cost of the Gnawer’s soul.