The End of All Songs

Dead men tell prophecy

Trapped is not a word we as a pack know. Trapped is for prey, trapped is for those who have given up hope. Trapped is never a conclusion. Howls will echo far and wide for the realm which crumbles beneath our feet. Cries which I fear will only be chimed in with more and more tragedy as the end times draw nearer. We were beckoned to the realm of legends to find knowledge that will aid us in the coming days, unaware what to expect we took wing and soared, led by our totem to the legendary realm. The creak and slam of gates thundered behind us as we found we could not leave the way we came.. From this place of grandeur. We met many interesting people, Tanto the strange man whom seemed to know much of the realm and what was happening. Anuk’chuk, Fangs of the Glacier, a Wendigo whom extended his grace and wisdom to allow us a night of rest and give us a heading on our quest. Trials were before us, first the 3 faced bane whom swiftly met his end at the tooth and claw of Gaia’s warriors. The giants who were abandoned by their leader. Only to have the storm caller return during our battle with the Black spiral dancers who called twisters as we would call breath to our lungs. All fell before the Harbingers and finally we came upon the dead lands. Where many would have panicked our Theurge prevailed in understanding what was occurring. Dragged into the land and brushed by the hands of the dead Running Gun Blues merely pulled himself and one of the fallen out of the hole and what happened next was truly bizzare.

They say dead men tell no tales, but perhaps this is only of the past. Delivered to us was a prophecy, a request, stop the pale rider. When we should hear of him. From reaching flux and delivering a package of corruption from the weaver. Do this and our debt shall be repaid. With this Running Gun Blues was given a tome and we took flight back to the Wendigo tribe… Death lay heavy on the air, as we circled above the tribe’s former home. Our wings giving us a birds eye view of the destruction below. The Wyrm’s forces were martialed and marching across the legendary realm. The weight of the attack still lay heavy on my heart as we were forced to ask, “What does the litany say? Shall we fight and likely die here where the wyrm has shown itself? Through that however we shall suffer the nation as this tome is to help during the end times.” Blood on Snow was not to take this question lightly and through his wisdom we took wing to the gates, still locked before us. Tanto however reappeared, offering us help as he knew a way out of this realm.. How? In a way we did not expect.

However if we stayed, we were trapped. Trapped is not a word we Garou know.


*A tale sang by Whispers of Forlorn Lands

Dead men tell prophecy

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