#Fenris Tribe

[scriberye]

🔞 For Glory: Leman Russ

───────────────────────────────── LEMAN RUSS x F!OC ⚠️🔞 Rough Sex, Cunnilingus, Predator/Prey, Mild Violence Leman Russ goes on a mating hunt. a/n: ástarpungur literally means 'love' + 'ballsack'. It's both a dessert and something you can call a male partner.

Under the light of the moon, Leman Russ prowled through an icy forest. His breath steamed in the frigid air. He heard every crack of ice, and the distant calls of beasts that roamed Fenris, but it was not what he hunted tonight, but a far more elusive prey — a mate.

A huntress from a smaller tribe. Rumors spread like wildfire of her skill, eventually reaching his ears. It was thanks to her that her people survived this long, or else they’d have died off long ago. And she had eluded Russ for days now. Every time he thought he had her, she would escape, leaving him empty-handed. It both infuriated and intrigued him.

Russ paused amongst the trees and inhaled deeply, the chill burning his lungs, and he caught her scent — delicate and sweet, mingled with the musk of sweat and arousal. His cock throbbed painfully. This mating hunt would end tonight.

With a growl, he pressed on, following the lingering trail she left. He knew she was near; the scent was fresh. The wind shifted, and he caught her scent again, stronger this time, and he turned toward it, moving quickly and as quietly as he could. Patience was the key, he learned. A figure moved ahead of him, and every sense came alive, alight with the thrill of the hunt. Russ gave chase. The towering trees covered in snow blurred around him, his attention focused solely on his prey.

He could hear her heart racing.

Branches whipped past as he barreled through, closing the gap between them.

Then she was gone.

Russ skidded to a stop, snarling as he searched the area. He moved slowly, a predator circling around a large tree as he pushed his senses. Her footprints stopped here. A branch creaked, and powdery snow drifted down in front of him. Russ jerked his head back and looked up just in time to be blinded by a snowball to the face. The icy shock made him sputter, shaking his head furiously.

Her laughter filled the air, echoing through the forest. She stood overhead, balanced on a branch, her eyes alight with mischief. The moonlight danced off her hair, tied back into braids to keep it from her face.

“Well, well, ástarpungur! We finally meet!” she called to him. “You seem a bit blue tonight, but it’s a bit hard to tell from up here.” She squinted, forming a circle with her fingers and holding it up to her eye like a spyglass.

Russ let out a deep and wild laugh. Oh, he liked her spirit! He grabbed his crotch and grinned up at her. “I’ve got your ástarpungur right here!” he roared as he squeezed himself, a brief relief for his straining erection. “Come down and I’ll let you try some!”

“A tempting offer,” she purred.

Her scent hit him anew, heady and intoxicating — primal and her arousal was unmistakable now. Russ inhaled deeply, eyes briefly closing as he savored the smell. She called to him and the beast in him answered. His eyes snapped opened, darkened with desire.

“Come, little huntress,” he licked his lips, his voice thick with need. “I intend to make you mine.”

Without warning, she leapt from the tree. Her hunting knife flashed in the moon’s light as she crashed into him. Russ reacted instinctively, effortlessly catching her mid-air and pinning her to his chest. She struggled against him, twisting and turning as she tried to break free, hissing like a feral cat. Russ held firm, unphased when the blade swiped dangerously close to his neck.

“Yield,” he growled.

It only made her resist all the more. Then, slowly, she gave in, her energy drained. His grip on her loosened, and in one smooth motion, he threw her over his shoulder with a triumphant grin. She gasped, more surprised than anything else. Russ carried her through the forest and to the cave he had been camping out in for these past few days.

The cave was a sanctuary. A fire roared brightly inside, safe and sheltered from the snow, filling the cave with warmth. The aroma of roasted meat lingered in the air, mixed with the distinctive masculine smell of Leman Russ.

Furs were spread out over the ground, forming a cozy nest over the stone and dirt.

He set her down on the furs by the fire. As the heat seeped into their bones, chasing away the chill of the Fenrisian night, they undressed. It was a mating hunt, and they both knew what was to come at this point.

Russ shed his armor, piece by piece, setting aside the battle-worn and scarred ceramite, revealing the black body suit beneath. He peeled it from his skin, revealing the powerful physique beneath and the myriad of scars that etched his skin.

She watched him, her eyes tracing the contours of his form, her cheeks burned. He was impressive to behold, and it made her clench her thighs together. By the end of the night, he would be hers, as much as she would be his.

“See something you like?” he asked. His grin was broad, the fire’s light glinting off sharp canines. Caught, she looked away with an embarrassed huff, shifting her focus back to undressing herself.

Russ laughed and moved to stand behind her. “Let me help,” he offered. He took hold of the hem of her tunic and lifted it up and over her head. She shivered, her bare skin exposed to the cool air. She resisted the urge to cover her breasts with her arms.

“Last chance, little huntress,” Russ murmured, his large hands settling at her waist. He leaned low, pressing his lips against her throat. “Speak now, and I’ll let you go.”

Her eyelashes fluttered, and she turned to face him, her hand coming to rest against the fine hairs on his chest. “Your hunt was successful. I’m yours to take.”

Russ captured her lips in a fierce kiss, chasing after her as she sank down onto the furs and laid back.

Rough, calloused hands gripped her legs and spread them wide, exposing her most intimate part to his hungry gaze. And Russ wasted no time diving in, lapping at her folds like a man starved. He’d been craving her for days. His coarse bread scratched at her skin, and she gasped.

She shuddered and arched her back, offering more of herself to him. His tongue flicked out, tracing over her slit before delving between to tease her clit. He circled the swollen nub with his tongue, before pulling back to flick his tongue over it.

“O-Oh! Leman!” she gasped, breathless, reaching down to grab fistfuls of his hair and grind her hips against his face.

He groaned, muffling a laugh against her. He slipped a finger into her, curling it, seeking a spot that he knew would make her wild. And he knew he found it when she squealed and kicked a heel into his back.

“Fuck, don’t stop,” she begged. And Russ was all too happy to oblige her. He increased his pace, his tongue flicking over her clit, thrusting his finger in and out of her wet cunt. It was too much, and she screamed, her body convulsing and tensing as she soaked his tongue with her orgasm.

Russ pulled away and looked her over, licking her taste from his lips. She was beautiful, laying back against his furs, sweaty and satisfied — and all his now. He gripped her hips and flipped her over onto her stomach. She laughed breathlessly and raised her hips, swinging them tantalizing at him.

“Oh, you’ve teased me enough, elskan mín.” Russ’s lips curled into a grin as he hovered over her, braced on his hands and knees, engulfing her much smaller form. He rocked his hips forward, his thick, swollen cock slipping against her folds before she reached between them, lining him up with her cunt.

“Good girl,” he groaned, sinking himself into her until no more could fit. His cock stretched her to the brink, and he held still for a moment, giving her time to adjust to his considerable size before pulling back and thrusting back into her with a wet squelch.

This time she was ready, and she moaned, raising her hips to meet him, silently urging him on. And that was all Russ needed to let himself go. With a feral growl, he fucked her like a wild beast in heat. He pounded his cock into her with unrelenting force.

Her breath came out in bouncing, shallow gasps with each deep, piercing thrust, echoing off the walls of the cave. She screams his name and dug her fingers into his wrists, thrusting back against him with an equal desperation.

Russ pressed down over her, leaning forward onto his forearm and reached beneath them. He squeezed her breasts before sliding down between her legs, pressing his fingers against her clit and rubbing it in tight, rapid circles. It was enough to push her over the edge and she came with a hoarse scream, her body quivering.

The flutter of her cunt around his cock was enough to send him as well. With a loud, feral roar, he thrust into her with one last, vicious thrust. The head of his cock pressed deep as he pulsed inside of her, filling her with his cum.

With a satisfied sigh, she slid off his cock and settled onto the furs beneath, shifting uncomfortably as a gush of cum leaked out of her used cunt. “That was amazing,” she said with a grin, looking up at him. Russ smiled back, his eyes filled with pride and lust. He laid on his side beside her, running his hand over her back until he reached her rear and squeezed.

“Good,” he lowered himself down and pressed a kiss to her lips. “Rest, the night is still young and you’ll need your strength.”

She returned the kiss happily and snuggled close, feeling content and safe. Russ wrapped her up in his arms, content for now to hold her and bask in the afterglow of their lovemaking.

[songoftrillium]

Hi!!

I saw your reblogged ask about WtE redesigning the Get, and I'm curious what you can share?

I'm working on my own rewrite project (it's mostly a redesign of the W5 system, designed to work with either my patchwork mess of lore or with WtE lore) and I've been having some trouble with the Get, so I'd love to hear your thoughts!

I'm sharing this as someone who has always held a deep affection for Fenrir.

When redesigning the tribe I wanted to do it from a few angles at once.

What motivates a warrior? What is, what is it that makes a society one that is oriented so closely around battle prowess?

What history can do to shape a society into a society of warriors

How does the warriors outlook shape society at large?

What parts of Fenrir history can have direct parallels with minimal effort?

What key parts of the Fenrir are absolutes that cannot be removed without making the tribe unrecognizable to fans?

So, I did exactly that.

The first thing I did was I talked to scandinavian, sami, and slav people actively living in europe and got some pretty deep lessons on outlooks and culture, as well as numerous history lessons from a first-person perspective on things. I then befriended a polish-speaking pagan that was happy to teach me about cultures on sacrifice as both a literal practice and one that affects outlook. In that light, I rewrote the tribe to be one that went from 'seeking a good death' to a tribe that 'seeks causes worth dying for.'

Actually, why don't I just share with you the Get! (glyph used with permission by Feral Noesis)

Get of Fenris (see below the cut)

Dziewanik. Fenrir. Gummoš. Feriksen Suku. Vilkati. Vukarci. Legends, clothing, and common parlance from Sápmi to Carpathia speak of lupine spirits, warriors and deities all linked to the wilderness, hunting, society, and even to some of the oldest creation myths, and in each of these societies, a tribe of fearless Garou emerged. Even among a race of warriors, the Fenrir stand out as the one tribe well and truly composed of warriors from the top down. They throw themselves heart-first into a worthy cause, wearing scars with pride, howling the defeat of their enemies, and maintaining a reputation built on Glory wrought through great sacrifice and determination. Theirs is a culture of warriors whose history is etched in rocks and ancient temples deep in the wilderness.

Their origins can be traced to before the crusades, following the emigration of Germanic and proto-baltic-slav tribes fleeing the Huns both west and northwards. Regularly raided from the Carpathians, it would be Fenris’ wolves who came to find human tribes espousing their very ideals, worshipping the plants and rocks around them. Taking up the hammers and axes these people used in everyday life and now had to use to defend themselves, these became the symbols for the tribe itself—the weapons of the common man fighting alongside kin against insurmountable enemies and overcoming side-by-side.

This culture of adoption, cause, and sacrifice remains unchanged to this day. Lineage alone doesn’t make a Get of Fenris. If a cub cannot stand up to the tribe’s brutal and often bloody trials, they stand no chance against the kind of enemy the Get pursue. Fenrir maneuvers and tactics were first developed deep inside the mountains, combating the Jotunn. Long ago, these twisted and vile giants battered Fenrir around like playthings.

Since the beginning, those espousing the ideals of Fenris seek worthy causes they can throw themselves into body and soul. Their fearlessness lies in their determination weighing their strikes. To a Fenrir, nothing in life worth having comes without significant personal work to obtain, from the manner in which they maintain their spirit affinities to their very homes they always build by hand.

Heroism is not without its drawbacks. The life of a Fenrir is often short and violent. This has led to a belief that the tribe is comprised of mindless warriors with insatiable bloodlust. Those who run with the Fenrir find them to be direct, plain-worded, and espousing deep convictions for the causes they’ve dedicated their lives to.

Leadership in the tribe follows the philosophy of Fenris, that seniority has no meaning. Those most capable of leading in their position do so. Their zedakh’fa, or jarls, earn their right to rule with iron and fang; the leaders of their packs are those most capable of instilling valor in their wolves, and the leader of the household is the kin most knowledgable and skilled in navigating the specific needs and boundaries to be navigated at home.

The combat prowess inherent in every Get of Fenris Cliath is one that is hard-earned and, if they learn to appropriately harness their rage, often ascend to become unparalleled champions in their septs once they ascend the ranks to Adren and beyond — assuming they live that long.

Appearance

Extant Fenrir lineages reveal themselves to be massive gray wolves with broad shoulders and hard-set jaws. This trend, however, peters out significantly, given the diversity of their tribe members. The visual marking of their tribe members are what truly helps them stand out.

The tribe observes a skin marking tradition originating from packs among 9th century Lechites, where Fenrir, lacking battle scars for their prowess, took to their Galliards, adorning them with glyphery. These Get chronicled their deeds for all to see, with both ashes rubbed into fresh wounds to make them clearly visible. In modern times, this has grown to represent multiple kinds of tattoos across numerous cultures, with the glyphs appearing in the negative spaces between the tattoos.

To quote the late Mother Larissa: “Covered in Blood is the natural state of a Fenrir.” In ceremony, a Fenrir is nearly always marked with blood in some way, from adornments of glyphs touting their latest deeds to bearing the bloodspatter of their fallen allies (and their enemies) so as to gift the sept’s lupus with their scent.

Tribe Patron

Fenris is himself one of the original 13 Garou of the First Pack before; the one who held strength and honor most dearly in his heart. He and his wolves waged war against the ancient Jotunn, deep in the mountainous Fjords of Norway. It was here he learned how to think before acting and listen before thinking. Beyond a Warrior, Fenris was a believer in sacrifice, whose tactics espouse his own personal participation in battles. His chiminages to Gaia were of great personal loss, but also strengthened his packs.

All Fenrir espouse these values, that nothing in this world that is worth having is merely given, but gained through personal sacrifice, be it time, task, or blood, expecting no quarter, and giving none.

Character Creation

A well-made Fenrir is a fighter first and a lover second. Physical prowess matters more to this tribe perhaps than any other. Dexterity, Brawl, and Melee are great investments, with Strength and Stamina coming in a close second. A stoic tribe places very little stock in Expression; a Fenrir simply speaks their mind. Where you can however, give them a little empathy. This helps them read through those hard exteriors.

When it comes to Gifts, Fenrir are known for their unshakable will. Willpower, that is, Resolve and Composure, are key to using most of their Gifts. For other Gifts, plan to invest equally in Intimidation and Primal-Urge.

Outlook

The philosophical foundation of a Fenrir is one grounded firmly in materialism. That is, a Get will seldom concern themselves with the affairs of their afterlife and will often consider the things they will leave behind when they go. A Fenrir hero is one whose communities venerate them, whose stories are told, and whose values are upheld as philosophies by the families affected positively by a Fenrir.

The journey to finding motivation to equiring considerable effort on behalf of these warriors to make such a legacy. But, once established, there is no hesitation, no fear, when they take up arms to protect those they love most. This is where the stalwart, unshakeable resolve the Get of Fenris are known for comes to the surface, leading to the bloody tales of glory and unfettered violence that hallmark their mythology.

Spirit Affinities

Bear, Champion, Fenris, Wolf

[inficetegodwottery]

So. Werewolf 5th Edition.

Werewolf 5th edition sucks. A lot.

Edit- I made some errors in my initial edit of this post that were fuelled entirely by being underinformed and almost insensible with anger, disappointment, and anxiety.

Some very informative responses have been made that I intend to incorporate into a much better and less rambling post with those updates and corrections. I'll probably delete this one soon as I type that one together, so folks only see the updated version.

Sorry for any mistakes I made on this old version, again, I was in an extremely poor place mentally and thoroughly dispirited by the total butchering of what was supposed to be a less shitty and mean-spirited version of a setting I care deeply for despite its foundational flaws and 30+ year history of exactly this thing happening.

I'm still very, very angry. But it's important to be angry and correct. This post was not made by someone informed of all the facts, and I intend to correct that.

Paradox Interactive has made the brave decision to reboot the controversial Werewolf the Apocalypse setting entirely rather than try and fix it, and have somehow done a worse job than the games studio that released an RPG book titled an ethnic slur.

It's taken me almost a month since this came out to be anywhere near mentally prepared enough to even collect my thoughts on it.

Man, it is rare to see an edition of ANYTHING that pisses off old players, new players, players who want to keep the lore the same, players who want to change the lore, conservative players, radical players, and even powergamers.

How do you set out with the intention of making an infamously dated and poorly researched/outreached setting LESS uncomfortable and racist from a modern perspective.... and end up with something EVEN MORE racist and uncomfortable, but also suffocatingly tonedeaf, insincere, and deeply sinister and corporate in its erasure of existing issues rather than addressing them whatsoever.

We made the Get of Fenris irredeemably evil because some of them in the past were nazis and also nazis like Germanic mythology, so the viking werewolves are all nazis now.

Okay, I understand why you did that from a modern political perspective even if its kind of heavy hand-

The Native American werewolf tribes have been removed entirely and replaced with American Murican werewolf tribes. Renaming and rewriting them to be more respectful was just too much work! Now they're more inclusive. :)

The Irish werewolf tribe is now the Nature Werewolves tribe, like every other tribe of Werewolves also is, but also stripped completely of celtic origins.

The Red Talons are openly genocidal ecofascist malthusians and somehow NOT IRREDEEMABLY EVIL like the Get of Fenris are.

Also the feminist all women werewolves are no longer all women or even feminist. AND ALSO SOME OF THEM ARE SOCIAL DARWINISTS AND THATS SUPPOSED TO BE A GOOD THING!?!

Also we entirely dropped the themes about how forcing children to be a part of a war they barely understand while also lying to them about the crimes their ancestors committed that led to the current crisis is fucked up and evil.

Now its actually awesome to be a child soldier born into a repressive apocalyptic death cult with a siege mentality and everything is cool about that actually, you're the Good Guys, and no amount of covered-up historic genocides or internal/external bigotry will ever change that! :)

Also we solved the way people were uncomfortable with the idea that werewolf society is transitioning messily from being horrible ableist assholes that discriminated for centuries against those they view as deformed, disabled, or sexual deviants to new generations that don't care about that stuff, by removing disabled werewolves entirely! Problem solved! No more discomfort or moral conundrums! We are the liberal-est!

There's just something so unbelievably fucked up and suspicious about erasing entire minorities from a fictional universe because they were handled poorly in the first edition, rather than talking to writers and outreach specialists FROM the real world equivalents to those minorities to try and rewrite them.

Don't worry, we removed the group the setting was bigoted against! Problem solved! Just remove the minority!

I've written my own post on why the Metis/Crinos-born should be renamed and probably rewritten, but as a severely disabled individual with multiple hereditary disabilities that severely impact my QoL, outright removing disabled characters in a work of fiction because the prejudice other characters showed them in-universe made people uncomfortable makes me want to tear out someone's throat with my teeth.

Sure, completely remove my ability to play disabled a character fighting back against prejudice and bigotry, rather than rewrite the most uncomfortable aspects of YOUR FUCKING PORTRAYAL OF THOSE CHARACTERS to make it more clear who the sympathetic one is supposed to be.

It's just so unbelievably cowardly and whinging and wretched.

So fuck it, I guess!

Fuck the deeply applicable themes of being born into a well-intentioned but deeply flawed and bigoted society, and trying to create the better world your parents always told you your ancestors fought for, while dealing with the fact that your world is built on mass graves those ancestors helped fill.

Fuck a game that deals with intergenerational trauma and the ethical hellscape that is a highly religious society devoted to the very same ideals it often violates just to win fights against the enemies it created through its own arrogance and prejudice.

Fuck a game that lets you play someone born different, born strange and sickly, bouncing constantly between people who pity you and people who view you as subhuman, before finally finding the people, the family who love and accept and fight alongside you for a world that has never accepted you, but WILL FUCKING KNOW YOUR NAME.

That's not relevant to the real world at all!

There are no kids born in deeply flawed and hypocritical societies, who grew up on stories of the glorious future their society would create, forced then to reconcile the hopeful dreams of a better world with the comprehensive list of horrific things done in the name of that future.

There are no children born confused and alone in their navigation of the maze that is past atrocities, ethnic conflicts, religious prejudice and dogma, or modern propaganda attempting to erase the histories of all of those things.

There are no disabled teens who spent their lives believing they didn't belong in the world, kept going only by the connections they forged with other outsiders and people who fought back against the kind of wretched bigotry that suffocates children to death, who found homes and families they could trust outside the pissant communities they were born into.

Apparently those people don't need a game! They don't need to explore those feelings!

Just throw some more nazis in, so we can pretend we care about social issues or understand the redeeming threads of a deeply flawed gameline, ostensibly so we market it to leftist youngsters, but while we also erase the entire point of a game WHICH IS ALL ABOUT BEING PUNKASS YOUNGSTERS DESPERATELY TRYING TO FIND THE REDEEMING THREADS OF A DEEPLY FLAWED AND PREJUDICED SOCIETY THAT CONSTRAINS THEM, FINDING A WAY TO REBEL AGAINST BOTH THE EVILS OF THE RACIST BASTARDS WHO RAISED THEM AND THE POMPOUS SHITHEADS WHO WANT TO DESTROY THE WORLD OUT OF GREED.

No! We want a squeaky clean, sterile white game that AmericanTM parents can be proud of their kids for playing! A marketable game, that advertisers will gladly pay Revenue to put their products in! Play the good guys, everyone! You're the good guys! Be a big werewolf UwU!

Don't worry about historical atrocities or the flaws of the society that raised you! That's Pentex propaganda!

Fighting bad guys means you can't do anything bad yourself! The Emperor told me so! Deus Gaia Vult!

A hollow, performative, offensive jizzstain that should've been scrapped in its crib. I have no idea how this edition got past a quality assurance team.

Hell I have no idea how it got past a legal team, given the number of real peoples' likenesses they used without permission.

Devoid of artistic integrity or merit.

[ogrepoppenangleaksofficial]

I'm not sure where else to say this, but... I tried getting into the world of darkness, and I was especially interested in Werewolf The Apocalypse, I like werewolves. But, the more I read up on it... the less I liked it. A bunch of segregated infighting tribes is not what I look for in werewolves, it just feels like the Vampire's clans all over again, except now instead of being tortured creatures of the night, we're incompetent eco-terrorists who killed almost every other species of werebeast for no good reason. I know I'm being a little reductive.

I just don't enjoy how the garou nations are executed in Werewolf, and don't even get me started on the Get of Fenris.

Am I missing something?

[reikiajakoiranruohoja]

W5 critical: Absence is not inclusivity

Critical of Werewolf the Apocalypse 5th edition, please don't read if you like the edition.

Few weeks ago, I saw a post stating that the removal of the cultural ties from (almost) all of the tribes is a good thing, because it means anyone can now be a member of any tribe.

What this mentality misses, however, is that the absence of culture is not the same as being inclusive. Sure, everyone can be anything, but from my experience, that freedom does not result in actual diverse depiction. After all, we have data that you can be as diverse as you want in your character creation options, most players will still make a white brown-haired cismale character.

In the same vein, all of the released adventures for W5 have been set in the US. Even though anyone can be anything, we have fallen back to treating the US as the default setting. Paradox is a Swedish company and Sweden has plenty of stories that fit WtA. This is no longer the case of a US company writing for a US audience.

What is worse, now that there are no specific tribes from Turtle Island, they don't have to be included in the stories set on their own lands. Instead, all characters can be white and the ST doesn't have to consider how the native people of the land see the white characters.

Even though the Legacy books often fell on their face when it came to depicting anything not a WASP American, the presence of cultural ties had a purpose.

Garou are creatures of community, they are people who band together not out of desperation or survival but because they like to have people around them. Unlike Vampire the Masquerade, Werewolf the Apocalypse is about honesty. Garou want friends, they want allies and a family without ulterior motives.

What this means is that each tribe was not just a group selected by a specific patron. They were communities of shifter and kin who all shared a culture and had for generations. A tribe is a garou's support network, their source of history and so on.

Of course, Werewolf the Forsaken's tribes aren't culturally tied. But the difference between the W5 tribes and those of The Moon is that there are only 8 or so base tribes and even then three of those are the 'bad guys'. The tribes in Forsaken are archetypes, werewolves of similar goals. But the game has always made a point that there are cultural differences depending on the country and there are plenty of lodges that are local to a specific area.

In W5, you have 11 tribes that were originally built to have ties to certain culture or broad concepts. Now, with most of the context removed, there are multiple tribes in W5 that could be cut and the setting would not change.

More than that, the tribes of W5 (aside from Cult of Fenris for some reason) are alone. Even the Uratha in Forsaken need to have contact with their potential tribe to join one, but in W5 the tribe patrons simply choose a fitting garou with no input from others of the tribe. This loneliness is further shown in how little thought is dedicated to a pack having a patron. Unlike every other WtA book, W5 does not come with a list of patrons. Instead the book, in a sidebar, recommends picking a tribal patron among the tribes of the pack. With an added mention to do contrition to other patrons who did not get picked. Even then, each PC is still expected to follow their tribal patron's ban on top of their pack patron's.

Meanwhile, in Legacy, the ties to various real life cultures give direction and community to the garou. When the pack chooses a patron, that patron is often not from any tribal brood. The pack, in Legacy, is important.

In W5, community, pack, family and all that are not only gone but also treated as the source of the garou's evils. Better be alone, better be without roots, it says.

No person is an island, yet that is what W5 wants things to be.

[themostfinalofpams]

I’m not sure if DA2 was a good game or not because of how much it hurt me from the end of Act 2 onwards. Isabel leaving my party because I didn’t max out our friendship, Merrill’s tribe turning against her and trying to kill her, Anders blowing up the chantry, having to fight Fenris after siding with the mages… maybe I didn’t make the right choices to prevent some of those, but that shit gutted me. (I do think though that I enjoyed the combat and gameplay more than in Origins though)

[qwimblenorrisstan]

Night-Terrors | Aedion x Reader

Summary: After the war is over, Aedion is still tormented by nightmares, leaving you to soothe him.

Word Count: ~1k

Warnings: Mentions of death, yknow bc war, nightmares, but it ends good

A/N: This is my first attempt at writing for tog, so be patient with me, but I hope you enjoy<3

Requests are open!

Aedion Ashryver believed he deserved this.

Aelin had used the three keys to forge the gate, to lock the Gods and Erawan away, but she’d given her life for nothing. Erawan remained, and the Gods had betrayed them.

The battle at Morath raged. Gavriel was dead, Fenrys and Lorcan well on the way. Their army was depleted, and the scent of death and suffering surrounded them. The Ironteeth had slaughtered all the Crochans and Manon’s Thirteen. The Myceniens were gone. Whatever remained of the ruhkins beyond their rotting corpses that had fallen to the ground days ago, Aedion didn’t know.

The wild people of the Wolf Tribe hadn’t come, and Dorian had probably been slaughtered by now. Where the older Lords had gone, he didn’t know either.

The battle went on until the Witch Towers were up, and with the amplified blast of the Yeilding, their entire army was ashes. Maeve and Erawan smiled at him, pure wickedness in their faces.

It was over. They lost.

Maeve slipped into his mind, and he was too weak to stop those icy talons from digging in. She gave him one last vision before the Wyrdstone collar clamped around his neck.

A world with no fire or flame, not a whisper of Aelin’s power, a world with no magic, only possessed by the tyrants of the world.

No light.

Valg infested the streets, spreading their stain of darkness until that was all Erilea was. Aedion couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t think. There was nothing and no one there for him, not even you, inside that broken realm.

Because he had failed.

Any last inch of spirit he had was when he tried to struggle against it, against them, but too soon did he hear a resounding click of stone against stone, and the coldness of it around his throat.

*********************************************************

You were half-asleep when you first heard his mumbling.

Sitting up and rubbing your eyes, your hair tousled by sleep, you saw Aedion writhing and struggling in his sleep. It wasn’t a sight that surprised you, not anymore.

The nightmares were a common occurrence for both you and Aedion, more so for him, and you’d slowly learned how to comfort him and help him through them, but never did he thrash this badly. And then he stopped, and you wondered if it was over.

You laid a gentle hand on his upper arm.

“Aedion?”

You whispered, and right after that, he jolted up. Before you could even move an inch, you were pinned forcefully against the bed, a hand around your throat and squeezing. He had a wild look in his eye, panic and fear flooded his scent.

“Stop—Aedion-“

You choked out, hands held down by him. You couldn’t move an inch, not beneath all his weight and pure muscle, especially with the hold he had you in. Muscle memory, most likely. Instinct too.

Right when your vision started getting splotchy, he must’ve realized what he was doing, because the pressure was immediately gone and he flipped onto his back beside you, sitting up, staring in horror. His chest was heaving as he panted for breath, silver lining his eyes.

“Oh gods, you’re-..you aren’t hurt, are you?”

He asked, his hands twitching as they went to go check you for any injury, before hesitating, knowing you might not want to be touched after what he’d done. You sat up, shakily taking in a breath, hands brushing over your throat before you took his in your own. They dwarfed yours, unsurprisingly.

“I’m fine, okay? Just..what happened?”

His eyes still shone with guilt, but he seemed more reassured by your hands in his. With a deep sigh, he squeezed your hands once. A few moments of silence passed, before he spoke, tears building.

“I don’t know, it was just a nightmare, but Aelin was gone, and we lost, and they put a collar around..”

His voice trailed off, and then the tears fell, and he was sniffling, his hands separating from yours to wipe them away. Your heart broke at the sight of your mate, terrorized by nightmares and tormented by them.

You scooted closer to him, arms sliding around his waist carefully, tentatively, until he leaned into you, folding into your arms and sobbing into your shoulder. Your hand soothingly ran circles on his back as he babbled nonsense against your skin.

Eventually, sobs turned to sniffles, and he shifted to lie down with you, pulling some of the warm blanket over you as his golden hair spilled onto the pillow. You moved your hands to stroke his hair, lightly scratching his scalp in a way you knew he loved. He opened his eyes again, peering up at you.

“You’re sure that you’re alright?”

He questioned quietly, concerned and guilty still. You nodded.

“Are you sure that you’re okay?”

You questioned right back, and he sighed, nodding. His arms wrapped tightly around you, as if he needed you to ground him back down to reality, so he couldn’t get lost in nightmares or dreams. His head buried right into the nook of your shoulder as he took a deep inhale of your scent, and relaxed further after that.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

You drowsily asked, and he shook his head.

“In the morning.”

He mumbled, and you gave a little hum of acknowledgment. Both of you had a habit of putting things off till morning, the discussion of his nightmare only being another one of them as you both began drifting off to sleep.

It was safe to say that Aedion Ashryver slept dreamlessly for the rest of the night.

[maddyaddy]

Arthmael Forgefire The 3rd Chapter Champion of the Greymanes, Gesith Forgefire is a rock, capable of enduring unimaginable hardship and punishment. Raised amongst the Isenii tribe. As Godwyn’s closest living confidant, he tries to be a sympathetic ear to the transhuman problems of his liege-lord. In battle, he wears a suit of Terminator Armor and wields a Thunder Hammer, both forged in the Hammerhold beneath the Aett on Fenris itself.

[mrfrunky]

THE WEREWOLF QUESTION

Hi guys as y’all can see I’m a huge fan of the world of darkness (specifically the old world of darkness) and as I delve deeper and deeper into my 20 gigabytes of WOD PDFs I notice more and more outdated and outright offensive things that just scream “I was made in the 90s and parachute wrote my ass off”

Parachute writing is a bitch (which is why you always consult others that are more well educated in the culture than you)

But that is besides the point, my first question regards a very controversial topic of Werewolf The Apocalypse, and that is the Uktena and the W*ndigo. (Primarily the latter as I want to focus on the name, from now on I will refer to this tribe as “Younger Brother”).

At first I was thinking that these names were to subvert the expectations, like the Get of Fenris of course referencing to Fenrir, a top notch dickhead in Norse mythos, (which is a lot considering most gods barring a couple are top notch dickheads… looking at you Odin.). But instead they are these strange protectors of the earth, while culturally they are known as the killer of odin, in reality they are the rivals of the evil odin (whom is possibly a vampire) that killed their tribe members, whilst also being a tribe that is adamant in preventing the apocalypse and fighting jormungandr (the wyrm) as much as they can.

(Small rant as I quickly educate myself why the fuck do they have a sub-tribe called the glorious fist of Wotan?!?!? DONT THEY HATE ODIN? ISNT WOTAN JUST THE DISAMBIGUATION OF THE WORD ODIN THAT WAS USED IN WAGNERS RING??? ? Ok. Yeah I’m gonna smash a table into pieces and eat the wood chips)

But now that I educate myself on the Younger Brother tribe in the WOD wiki, there doesn’t seem to be any subversion of expectations, its just a name some guy plastered on really quickly and it just ended up sticking because others thought it was cool. And if I’m being genuinely honest, a tribe of world protecting werewolves should not be named after such a thing.

There have been a good couple of posts I’ve seen that refer to this Younger Brother tribe and it’s controversy, but I have never seen one that offered a proper name for this misnamed Garou tribe. What do you all think? I’ve been planning on utilizing Garou into my world because I fucking love werewolves and I would love feedback on how to properly name this Garou tribe in a way that respects indigenous culture.

I feel like I will have a thread of posts like this because I want to depict W:TA 2e in a more respectful light (removing all the controversial and outright stupid gunk) whilst also helping all 5 of my mutuals depict them as well :). If you have gotten this far to read my crazy rambling, thank you so much I love u.

[songoftrillium]

Hello @songoftrillium.

First thing like to say is that I'm a fan of what you're doing with the WtE project and I would like to wish you the best for the future of said project.

Also if have any trouble with Hauglosk then I would recommend you to check out a newly released WTA VN called Purgatory which give a solid origin (or at least a intended origin) for the condition.

Also it has much more interesting take on the Cult of Fenris than base W5. Where they are portrayed more as an actual cult that accepts all garous from different tribes that buys into they prophesy rather than just a fallen tribe (which as far as I know isn't haven't completely fallen in this version of WtA. They just split off from the cult).

Of course if you don't want to brother with playing the VN then I found a good summary/Review on the onyx parth forums (Look under the heading: "Aleksander’s route" for the relevant parts)

Hello!

I appreciate it. I wish under other circumstances that I didn't have to be making this project, but all the same, it's a great passion of mine, and I'm privileged to be working on this.

I appreciate your mention of Hauglosk. From speaking with writers, the original concept was to be something called Ghreena (which comes from the same language root as Harano), reflecting a type of fanaticism that could be uniquely reflected in each tribe. I wish we could have seen that iteration, though; unfortunately, I don't think that's in the cards.

I've played Purgatory; one of my partners gave it to me as a gift, and I've played it through a few times now. As a story, I enjoy it! I don't think it hits the same way Heart of the Forest did (I was straight up moved to tears in parts,) but for what it was, I enjoyed it; I played both the Pat and the Alex missions. I am looking forward to future patching of the software however, I ran into several major bugs (including one that corrupts the game menu) I'm hoping they handle soon. I think once they take care of it, I'll play it a few more times, I'm sure! Of all the Werewolf videogames out there, this game company definitely knows how to tell a story.

In Werewolf: the Essentials, we are employing a Rage mechanic from Mind's Eye Theater Werewolf we in the team have grown fond of called Seethe. Seethe represents that smoldering anger deep within every Garou, waiting to burst out, chase, and kill things. The mechanic is straightforward:

If something happens to upset, aggravate, annoy, or otherwise perturb your Garou, they gain a point of Seethe, represented as a temporary point of Rage that can go past your permanent Rage score if you let it.

If your character does not become further aggravated, the Seethe point goes away on its own; you can lose one Seethe per hour in this way. The Garou may spend that Seethe as ordinary Rage to burn it off, as well.

If your Seethe exceeds your permanent Rage score by 3 dots, you instantly frenzy.

To be certain, Rage functions a bit more like Legacy in that frenzying isn't an ideal outcome, but your Rage doesn't constantly increase. You also won't need to kill something every turn to stay in Crinos. Rituals, moots, training, etc., can happen in the Crinos form without having to go on a rampage, in short. I think, ultimately, this will benefit everyone, regardless of the edition.

As for the Get of Fenris (Cult of Fenris as you know them), the tribe has been completely rewritten from the ground up to have a lot more grounding to their culture of origin (and no more bloody fascists in my game lol)

I appreciate your reaching out!

If enough people show interest, I'll publish information on the new Get of Fenris.

[werewolf-girl-knot]

SO. About W5...

I ended up "legally acquiring" a digital copy of the core book and just finished my first read through of it. Some thoughts.

First of all, let me say my major gripes about it re: indigenous and disability erasure remain present, and do end up being a deal breaker for me regarding Paradox and giving them any money.

Still, there's some interesting stuff in here. I am personally a V5 enjoyer. I dislike 'gothic superhero' type chronicles, cumbersome lore and mechanical bloat. I do like Personal horror, power that comes with serious costs, character-focused storytelling, urban fantasy that feels contemporary and grounded, and brave, direct political themes. so V5 ended up being a general improvement for me over V20, give or take some small things. These are the biasas I'm carrying into my thoughts on W5.

The good: Rage Dice make a return from V5's hunger dice, and with improvements! Hunger dice were controversial in V5, but personally I found them to be a fantastic way to keep the Beast as a present threat in your chronicle. Finally, a reason for being a vampire to actually feel like a curse! And Rage dice in W5 I like even more. I enjoy how they turn failure into success when you're trying to accomplish something violent, but otherwise can cause critical problems with your approach when you're *not* trying to be violent. It really encourages you to get into character and play your character more impatient and aggressive when your rage is higher. Finally, Rage that actually feels like a double-edged sword! The things Rage does is also an improvement for me. I dislike extra actions in TTRPGs, ironically I find that they just slow things down with too much dice rolling. Making Rage something you spend to regenerate faster is a much better idea.

The forms are more distinct and interesting now as well. This is one of the things W5 takes from Forsaken than it very good. Finally, a reason to use Hispo and Glabro! Crinos feels extra powerful, *and* risky, with its rule that it will enter a frenzy if you don't kill something that round making it much more threatening and dangerous, which is precisely how it's always been described in the lore, but never really represented in the game very well until now. Claws are high damage but only deal mundane types of damage and Bite is lower damage but Agg. Also good from a design standpoint, makes the rule about not eating human flesh finally matter.

Harano and Hauglosk. Harano finally becomes a present threat for Garou. Something they need to fight against, and help their pack against. It seems to operate a bit like a humanity stat, only that your sweet spot is in the middle. Too far in the other direction, and your character starts to flirt with fanaticism. This is just fantastic for making Werewolf have an actual morality system, a balance in their faith/convictions based on actions taken in the chronicle. Much more interesting than Gnosis as being an essentially meaningless resource. I have seen some braindead takes about this being a way for STs to punish players?? Don't play with STs who try to punish you and force you to do what they would do. Simple as.

The bad: new takes on the tribes. Generally I like how the book explains lore concepts, but the new tribes are so sanitized with any possible ounce of controversy taken out of them, that the political themes most of them were built to explore are totally absent, or significantly muted. In a vaccum I would think making the Get of Fenris fall would be a very interesting way to drive forward the plot, but the execution here makes them feel a little cartoonist. Very roundabout in saying that they've become werewolf eco-facists, a better way to do this be making a Hauglosk-ed version of each tribe to represent the corruption of each tribe's ideology. The cult of Fenris work as a general condemnation of the worst side of Garou in general, but having the bad guys camps in W20 just worked better for this, and had lots of room for improvement. As with all the other tribes, the Get of Fenris feels flattened and removed from its cultural context.

The Ugly: Paradox being horrible and racist. If you haven't read about this already, then... Idk how you found this post really. But this post covers it more thoroughly than I could.

The book attempts to address this with a note I put in the bottom, listing some facts about the issues experienced by indigenous groups, while making a half hearted attempt to connect it to the Garou. In the face of this erasure from their actual game though, it feels like a platitude.

As for the removal of crinos-born Garou, it's another flattening of a complicated part of the game's politics. It might have been nice to see Garou culture advance a bit, but removing them entirely removes the representation they embodied. Most of the direct representation in this game has been removed, but I think the the indigenous and disability represent the most egregious loss, especially in a game about those who are most actively being sacrificed in the name of capitalism. Which isn't some fandom interpretation, it is literally stated in the book.

This all leaves me very sour on the game's fiction, which for a storytelling game like Werewolf the Apocalypse, is important. Which is a shame, because I see a lot of good steps forward in the mechanics, making a game that's more fiction-first, without all the terrible attempts at capturing D&D's wargame combat. But frankly, it's hard to want a game who's treated it's writers so poorly to do well, even if I do think the current writers did very well with the constraints they were given. It's hard to recommend that anyone pay money for this.

[blodgmonster]

Part 4 (and hopefully the last part) of my Kingdom of Ash reread. Life has been a bit rough and it's taken me far longer than usual to finish this book. Deep breaths. Here we go.

-- you know...Manon losing the Thirteen is kind of a nerf-ing in its own. Aside from Abraxos they are what she loves the most in this world. And in order to save the day, to save the world, they sacrifice themselves, yielding their power. Leaving her alone. So that's Amren, Nesta, and now Manon in a different way.

-- I forgot this whole thing happens at Endovier of all places.

-- I remember thinking that SJM was just being weirdly lazy not giving the King a name. Ding dong I was wrong.

-- Aelin, you ding a ling! What if you and Dorian AND the King had done this together? Maybe you could have kept some of your goddamn fire power!

-- "your parents are...They are so very proud of you. They asked me to tell you that they love you so very much." Ouch

-- "Where light and life had flowed within her, there was nothing. Not an ember. Only a droplet, just one, of water." And here we witness the most egregious SJM nerf-ing. Why? WHY!? Dorian gets to keep his power, most of it anyway. Why couldn't she keep SOME of her power? Take her from a powerhouse firebender to a fae of normal/middling power. Which I suppose is what happens but...it's not fair. Or...here's a crazy idea, just LET HER KEEP HER FUCKING POWER. And then she loses all her power and then she trades Erawan for Elena's soul. And then they DONT save Elena. So she makes this big sacrifice for NOTHING. And now she has to go into battle without her fucking fire!

-- Mala is the only cool one of the bunch.

-- Aelin ripping open a portal to hell in the gods world lololololol I love her.

-- Hey, Crescent City!!!!

-- Hey, Rhys!!!!!!!!

-- AELIN RIDING THE LORD OF THE NORTH!!!! THAT'S MY GIRL!!!!!!!!!!

-- Gavriel

-- Elide's plan, Aelin's courage, Lysandra's strength, and Yrene's skills are what save the day. And they are alive because of the sacrifices made by Josafin Towers and Lady Marion Lochan. Who save the world? Women!

-- "You have no power over me." Sick Labyrinth reference, SJM.

-- the Wolf Tribe, hell yeah!!!!

-- KILL HER, FENRYS MOONBEAM, YOU ABSOLUTE LEGEND

-- "I will bind my life to yours. So we will never know a day apart. Never be alone, never again." A THIRD SJM couple with the "die together" trope. However much I loathe it, it kind of works here because it evens out an imbalance. Lorcan would have to live to watch her age and suffer and die and then live without her. That would be agony for him. And now they'll get to live like a normal couple, aging together. Somehow this one works better than Chaol and Yrene's and WAY better than Feyre and Rhys'.

-- Manon Cursebreaker

-- Fenrys' face is scarred now. Probably just makes him sexier. I'm not big into blonde dudes but he can get it.

-- "In silence, the two queens stared toward the decimated field. Toward the future beyond it. "

Edit: TITS this posted on accident. I guess there will be a small part 5

[reikiajakoiranruohoja]

WoD5 thoughts: Why limits don't work

Preface; Liking WoD5 is not bad, finding it the best edition is fine. What I am talking about in this mini-essay is the more technical side of things. The reason the way WoD5 limits what you can play bothers me, is that I have seen why limiting options never works and in fact creates a lot of elitism within the community. To explain, in Revised edition it was very common for VTM sourcebooks to have a new bloodline or clan with cool new powers. Only for the book to say it was not meant to be played. They did this multiple times, if you have V20 just look at the bloodline section. While WtA didn't suffer from books inventing new fera left and right, the community itself started putting very harsh limits on what sort of character was acceptable. Thanks to lupus having 5 gnosis, the breed was deemed 'too hard to play' or 'only for power gamers.' Crinos-born baaarely squeaked through. It was clear most wanted everyone to just play homids of tribes that originated from Europe. Any other breed, tribe or Fera was seen as Snowflaky. (I cannot say anything about the rest of the games.) When the Revised edition ended in the setting ending, it took old-White Wolf/Onyx Path a bit to find their footing with the New World of Darkness/ Chronicles of Darkness. But once they did, the mentality towards unorthodox characters changed. Now, everything was given rules and ideas on how to play them. More importantly, since NWoD was not meant to be one cohesive setting but a toolbox for the ST to use, there was no longer a pressure to fit every supernatural into specific games. Once the 20th editions came around, they followed the same mentality found good from NWoD; The ST chooses what applies and what does not. You could now play all the bloodlines in VtM and for WtA lost tribes and fera were given full character creation rules (White Howlers even got their own tribebook!) No longer was it seen as snowflaky to play a non-homid or a fera. As long as the game functioned, it was fine. So, now with WoD5, it feels strange to see how limited your playable options are. Not to mention, there is a lot of morality tied to why you cannot play them. Second Inquisition is bad because The Man and fundamentalism, Sabbat is bad because they are in a cult, Cult of Fenris is bad because the writers want to make them neo-nazi, stargazers are bad because...reasons, as are tribeless werewolves.

Hunter gets it the worst, though, with hunter organizations being automaticly bad, even if they are based on a group of people trying to get rid of illegal sex tourism in their country. And what of the lupus? How many games allow you to play as wolfborn in W5? How many people wanting to get, once again, told to just play humanborns? WoD works best when it is open for players to explore. Not when you get shamed for trying to play something different.

[paragonrobits]

explaining the werewolf tribes of Werewolf the Apocalypse is honestly a fairly fraught and even uncomfortable subject in places because WtA is an EXCEEDINGLY 90s thing and there’s quite a few things that have not aged at ALL well, and a few that have aged extremely badly for reasons that should have been obvious DURING the 90s, and a few things that have aged badly due to political developments that the writers likely never saw coming and the Black Furies are an example of the latter.

Broadly speaking, without actually being TERFs they textually read a LOT as being a breeding ground for TERFs. And the reason why is... well, they don’t actually SAY anything about transgender people, and modern writers of these games go to some extent to be as inclusive as possible in a way that is rather refreshing (even if some of their attempts to do so are REALLY wince-inducing nowadays), so after some thought, my conclusion is that has to do with the philosophies that influenced the Furies to begin with.

Because when these games were first written in the 90s, the dominant paradigm in feminist theory was the particular wave of feminism that involved a lot of philosophy we might recognize today as being heavily bioessentialist; the mentality of women having a special bond towards life because of specific organs, being closer to nature and divinity for that reason, and so on and so forth. These schools of thought broadly led to the rise of TERFs, not in least because this kind of ‘biology = destiny’ mentality is pretty key to WHY they wound up like that in the modern day.

So, the Black Furies.

In the actual writing, its clear they were MEANT to come off as fierce and angry, but righteously so, rather than biased (even if other factions, for reasons of their own, regard them as such). It’s telling that in modern editions, the Furies are usually written in character as very poetic and honestly reserved in what they say, as opposed to the firebrands they were characterized as in earlier editions, perhaps moving away from the implications of those earlier editions.

To my knowledge the actual issues of TERFs and the potential for that kind of mindset to take root in the Furies hasn’t been addressed. Theoretically I think you COULD probably go with the same route the Get of Fenris’ most horrifying elements were, and suggest they’re part of a specific school of thought (or a Lodge, to use the game’s termonilogy) within the tribe that is sequestered and probably far too close to the hatred of Wyrm-taint for the tribe’s overall comfort.

(I mean, as far as anti-TERFs go, there’s always the Children of Gaia. Being the chillest people who ever existed and going into rages on behalf of others is more or less their entire shtick!)

[redratt]

three ref sheets for some of my Werewolf: The Apocalypse girls

Siobhan has a fun backstory: she was born in a religious hellhole approximating the FLDS (or, you know, any fucked up religious cult), and this is what made the Black Furies distrust her when she was saved. They didn't treat her well, the daughter of a corrupted man from a Black Fury who turned from Gaia. Of course, this left her open for corruption, and led to her inevitable fall when a stranger gave her a shoulder to lean on and treated her kindly. Shield-against-winter is the Guardian of a sept in Yellowstone, which shares its territory with a Gangrel Elder who was around before even the Donner Party was in the area. Normally Garou and Vampires don't get along, but the Gangrel Elder is so old she's a force of nature in her own right, and has been known by the wolves for generations upon generations. The Vampire has actively helped defeat the Wyrm, and so she is tolerated, because she is understood as an ally. (I think that outright saying all vampires are Wyrm-beings was a misstep narratively, especially with what some of the Paths entail. In my house rules, there are a handful of Paths/Roads that will change the Triatic Alignment of a vampire, leaving them more Wyld or Weaver aligned from time to time. This is rare, but possible, and opinions on it vary from tribe to tribe and sept to sept. The Red Talons of Yellowstone even being amenable to a vampire is intended to be a massive story hook for players. My WoD at my table tends to operate on a "werewolf-centric" kind of axis, where werewolf is considered base canon, and I mess with the other splats to make them fit.) Knifeteller Kali fucking owns. She drives fast, sings songs of glory, and talks a lot of shit. She's one of two Get of Fenris in her pack -- the other is the pack Ragabash, lmfao. Her parents are both academics, and their family line had been lost, so Knifeteller Kali surprised the hell out of everyone when she hit her first change. She expects to die in battle one day, and once her hammer draws blood it enables her to fight with a raised Rage.

[bluerose5]

The Nightmare Part 4 (END)

Last part! Will probably post the full piece on AO3 later.

Previous parts will be linked in the reblogs. 💙

~~~

Anders settles into a chair while he watches Garrett make his way around the room, gathering ingredients here and there.

Neither of them speaks at first.

Exhausted, Anders drops his head into his hands. He tries to comprehend everything that happened, struggling most to come to terms with one important fact.

Garrett used blood magic.

Garrett used blood magic on him.

As if he said it aloud, Garrett rushes to assure him, "No demons were involved." When Anders glances up, Garrett nervously meets his eyes. "I can practically hear you thinking from over here. I swear to you both, I didn't consort with any demons."

Anders believes him, but that still begs the question.

"How long have you been doing this?" Anders waves vaguely in his direction, as if that explains it at all. "The blood magic, I mean."

"Not long," Garrett sighs. Working his way through the kitchen, he quickly whips up a mixture of lavender and elfroot. "Ever since we encountered Corypheus."

Anders raises a brow at him.

"So, what? You used a little blood to free him from his prison in order to defeat him, and that was the tipping point for you?"

Garrett huffs at him and shakes his head.

With mortar and pestle in hand, he adds some extra ingredients, grinding them down into little more than dust.

"I knew you wouldn't understand."

"Then help me understand!" When Garrett refuses to look at him, Anders sighs, then lowers his voice. "Garrett, please."

After a moment, he answers.

"No, the 'tipping point' wasn't when I freed Corypheus. It was when I learned that my father used blood magic when it was convenient to him," Garrett explains, "but he knowingly spent my entire youth outright discouraging my fascination with any practical form of the art."

"What do you mean by that?" Anders asks.

Garrett takes a second to finish preparing the incense, silent, contemplative.

"You know that I descend from one of the Alamarri tribes." Anders nods, and Garrett continues. "My father taught us their ways, growing up. A lot of their stories, history, and knowledge are passed on by word of mouth, but some things are recorded in writing. Magic, being one of them."

Anders can see where this is going.

"Even before I came into my magic, I read through the writings that were passed on to Father. I was fascinated. A lot of the spells that harnessed the power of blood were useful, everyday tools that they used. Magic to help crops grow, to form protective wards, to soothe the mind…"

"Like the spell you used on me," Anders whispers.

Garrett rushes to assure him, "Know that I would never have risked your safety on a whim. I wouldn't have cast the spell, were I not confident in my ability to use it." His shoulders slump, head pounding. "I'm familiar with the spell. I've had to use it a few times on myself, since things have gotten… tense in the city lately."

Anders doesn't know if he feels better or worse, knowing that.

He watches as Garrett lights the incense aflame, guiding the fire into being before calming it down to a slow, smoldering burn.

Before long, the room is filled with its thick aroma.

Lavender and elfroot mingle in the air.

Tension seeps from his muscles.

Taking a deep breath, Anders lets the mixture do its job.

"Does anyone else know?" he mumbles.

"Merrill, I think," Garrett says. "Varric knows, even though he would rather act like he doesn't. Isabela’s too much of a snoop not to know. Sebastian hasn't called me a maleficar yet, but it's only a matter of time, I guess. Same with Aveline. I'm certain Fenris has an idea, but it's just one of those things we don't bring up."

He shrugs, carefully keeping his distance, even as his heart aches to do otherwise.

Anders purses his lips as he considers that, but Justice is quick to remind him of another who once challenged their perspective on blood magic. A certain Commander of theirs who wielded it, not by working with demons, but by using Avernus' research to harness the taint in their blood to strike down evil.

Still, it hurts, knowing that Garrett didn't bring this up before now.

But he can hardly turn him away. Not now, not after all they have been through together.

"Come here," Anders beckons, and that's all that Garrett needs to hear before he launches himself across the room and into his waiting arms. Both of them cling to each other, their arms a safe haven in their chaotic, little world. "Love, why didn't you tell me?"

Garrett snorts, his laugh bordering on hysterical.

Unshed tears prick at the corners of his eyes.

"Is it so surprising that I kept it secret with how you treat Merrill?" he asks. Which, even Anders has to admit, is a fair point. He winces, but listens regardless. "I just— I don't know. I didn't want you to look at me any differently because of this."

His voice softens, small and uncertain.

"I wanted you to feel safe with me."

Ironic, considering that Anders still fully believes that —even with the blood magic taken into consideration— he still poses a greater threat to their combined safety than Garrett does.

That's a conversation for another day, though.

Right now, Garrett is his first priority.

He pulls away to cup Garrett’s cheeks, brushing dark curls behind pointed ears.

"You always make me feel safe," he whispers, pecking him sweetly on the lips. "Protected. But I need you to promise me you'll be safe. I need you to be careful, now more than ever."

"You know I will be."

"Promise me then."

Garrett furrows his brow, caught off guard by the intensity with which he spoke.

He searches amber eyes for answers, only to find a frantic sort of desperation where usually there was none.

"I promise," he tells him. "I don't use those spells regularly anyways. I won't risk weakening my connection to the Fade, but Anders?"

He cocks his head to the side, lips pursed.

"Did something happen to make you panic earlier, or did it happen randomly?"

Anders' mouth turns bone dry.

His heart threatens to kick into action again, but Anders focuses on his breathing, allowing the fragrant smoke around the room to draw his mind into a calming haze.

"I—" He swallows past the lump in his throat. The words are forced out, bit by bit. "I had a dream —a nightmare." His next breath shudders through his chest. "That you were made Tranquil."

Understanding hits Garrett like a punch to the gut, leaving him breathless, winded.

"Oh." At a loss for what to say, Garrett eventually manages. "I'm sorry. That you had to go through that alone, I mean."

Anders sighs. "It's not your fault."

"Even then…" Trailing off, he leans his forehead against Anders', staring deep into his eyes. "How about this?" He steals a brief, albeit passionate kiss, one that leaves them both breathless in the aftermath. "I promise— I swear to you, before any and all gods that will listen, that I won't be made Tranquil. No matter what, you will never have to go through that pain and heartache again."

Anders shakes his head in immediate protest.

"You can't promise me that." Even if it is such a bittersweet hope to embrace.

That doesn't change the reality that all mages are at risk, so long as the Templars and the Chantry have their way.

"Well, I just did promise exactly that," Garrett counters, "and I meant every word of it. Not even the Maker himself could make me break an oath to you." His touch gentles. His voice flows like a warm breeze. "Okay?"

Foolish as he is, Anders allows himself to believe him.

Eventually, he nods and whispers, "Okay."