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By Tyler Brooks and Joseph McKeever Edited by Andrew Adams

Daniel-Dreaming, Lodge of Winter Cahalith approached the council fire…

What’s past is prologue as Shakespeare said, so maybe its bitter irony that despite the fact The People have been fighting in one way or another since before the age of agriculture that we the American Forsaken have finally come together as a nation some two hundred years after our human counterparts. It was not easy, of course, the Brethren War shattered the lengthy peace which had proceeded it and carved the country into a series of militarized war zones whose names will now ring out in our histories: Zakium Limum Irituz, Huzalal Mamut, Zakmul Zakazal, and Nikzaza Aria Nanekisu. A thousand other grand titles for the same fundamentals of logistics, take and hold, advance, retreat, and the shame of our many failures.

But we survived and like those founding fathers of the human nation that was father to us, we persevered, recognizing the necessity for something greater than ourselves. Believe me when I tell you this, brothers and sisters, there is nothing in this world you can trust: not pack, not tribe, not fellows of your lodge, nor spirit liars. Even your own claws will one day fail you. But the mark you make on this nation will outlive you, and the renown you gain in good service to the Pact; immortality.

Immediately following the war, while the Pure had made sharp inroads, there was a generalized leveling due to the destruction caused by the Great Enemy. Territories which had been held for generations of successive packs were now ripped wide and their long slumbering spirits awakened. Worse, there was an essence deficit unspoken but sorely felt as thirty years of conflict had besieged the shadow and utterly destroyed positive resonances. Cities that had aspired (soared?) to the sky were now haunted and soulless barrens, while the wilds were full of politicized paranoia and the ruins of martial pride. What Loci there were remained in the hands of the few, what spirits wandered did so in armed choirs ready to kill the people on sight as likely as hear their petitions, and essence lines which had flowed freely were now staunched trickles in a darkened desert.

It was time for something different, and the coalitions were waiting. Where they had been or where they had come from is not generally known, but they came and with them came powerful elder predators, fetishes, and the rule of law. As advisers to the regional councils they brought great order and energy, helping the various forces of the growing Forsaken community to cooperate. They did not always agree, disparate factions of differing influence with different ideas of a future for all of us. Forsaken finally getting over the hump, finally pushing back the shadow, finally being able to raise children in something other than the militarized state, and perhaps finally earning Luna’s final forgiveness.

Hemmingway was wrong: The world is a beautiful place, and it is worth fighting for.

That is the dream.

The politics of the Forsaken world loosely follows that of the werewolf lifecycle: cub to tribe, tribe to pack, pack to protectorate and protectorate as a tool of measuring the organization of the local regional council. However, at the broadest possible scale of werewolf existence is the Coalition, a political ideology which breaks down the problems of local iconoclasm and gets people talking perchance to have real solutions to their problems. When the Pure come ‘knocking’ in force, it is the regional council that has to respond, but they need not do so alone as they may send their duly elected Uratha-Sha to the coalition gatherings for aid. When there is hunger, it’s the pack that allocates time and funds to fix your pick up, and the regional council who helps stockpile for the gas crunch, but it’s the Coalition who provides a wider base and gets far flung territories on the ball. The days of the territory as an isolated and self-serving vastness are long over. The people strive to be a community, and the Coalitions are the voices of the people.

In function there are four different Coalitions, each representing different perspectives and positions on the life of the people: the Lunar Consulate, the Scions of Shadow, the Word Keepers, and the Feral Ones, with the so-called Disaffected forming a fifth in those areas where the Coalitions are held in contempt or their followers few. Of these, all with the exception of the Lunar Consulate are open to anyone willing to abide their peace and hear their words, with the consul being disdained greatly by the Pure. And, rumor has it the Pure have their own Coalition known only as ‘The Hierarchy’.

However, joining the Coalitions isn’t all beer and pizza. There is some work to be done, and membership in it requires one not only prove themselves worthy of joining – renown, representation in a lodge, and a willingness to negotiate are good starting points – but also strive to ascend the ladder within their chosen coalition. Each Werewolf by joining the coalition is stating that there is more to Forsaken existence than the constant warfare of a predator. Instead they are stating that the people are both human and spirit, and that spiritual element has a strong defining feature on their existence. It allows them to express their humanity through it.


This category has the following 5 subcategories, out of 5 total.






Pages in category "Coalitions"

This category contains only the following page.