Gaming Operations Director Jacob Matthew's Email
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The Apocalypse has come and gone. It wasn't what we thought.
All of the signs were there. The Wyrm's other red eye opened to look down upon us from the sky. King Albrecht sacrificed himself to kill the Green Dragon's champion. No new garou were born to replace the fallen, save only the Perfect Metis, harbinger of the end times. All sides gathered their allies to them, mortal and incarnae, as the Last Battleground appeared in the penumbra, beckoning everyone toward the end.
The actions and stories from that time are now legend among the garou. The umbranauts' journey to deflect Rorg's hurled claw. The purification of the Perfect Metis in the Silver Lake of Erebus, and the gift of Charyss's Goblet which healed the Elder Serpent. The breaking of the fallen Shadow Lord Nightmaster and the destruction of the Nest of Midnight Shadows. The betrayal of the hengeyokai and Stargazers as they opened the Manchurian Pits and loosed the Thousand Hells upon Asia. The falling of the Get of Fenris to the Wyrm as the Dancers led the tribe down the Black Spiral.
Everything culminated in the Last Battle. Every Garou on earth, regardless of their allegiance, gathered upon the Last Battleground, ready for the Apocalypse. Battle lines were drawn, warriors roared at each other from across the field...
... and that is all any living garou can recall.
No one among the Gaians can say for sure what happened during the last battle. They can't say for sure that they won, but it's obvious they didn't lose either. And while far, far too many garou never returned from the Last Battleground, those that survived once again hear the cries and howls of newborn werewolves ringing out in the empty spaces between the caerns.
The whole world has changed, and yet for most it remains just as it ever was. The Veil stands intact and the Gauntlet remains passable, so the tenuous balance between the Triat remains. Pentex and the other Wyrm-tainted corporations have fallen into ruin, but others have risen to fill the void. Most of humanity barely even marked the Apocalypse, noting only a short global recession and an upswing in facist governments.
With the Apocalypse behind them, the garou survivors were wiped clean of their harano. Their impossible burden is now in the past. In its place, however, those survivors are visited with flashes of horror and death, brief glimpses into the Last Battle. The young, newly-born garou are spared this and complain of something their elders recognize as the hopelessness of harano but pass off as the moodiness of those just off their First Change.
Everything has been torn down to the foundations. All sides scramble to get their feet back under them and start to rebuild. And even then, the foundations have begun to crack. All over the world, caerns go dark as the lines of power upon which they sit shift and flow like rivers in storm. New wells of power spring up as lines merge and cross in new locations, and all the powers of the world scramble to claim them.
The Apocalypse has come and gone. Now we must rebuild, and our labors will be the foundation upon which our descendants and all those who follow them will stand.
[ Future Games ]