Kingship explained.

"Jordan Westwood, I would have a word with you." Commands "Silver-Jaws-Which-Tear-At-The-Heart-of-The-Wyrm-Itself", more commonly referred to as "Silver-Jaws-Rhya", out of respect and necessity to save time. In homid form, he appears as a tall, powerfully built man of Scandinavian descent, with platinum blonde hair, sharp features and a strong jaw. If it were not for the extensive burn damage done to the left side of his skull, having burned away a noticeable chunk of hair and skin tissue right down to the bone, he would remarkably handsome, and yet, despite the severe wounds, he remains very imposing. His presence stirs you to take action in the name of Mother Gaia. He wears steel armor, faintly similar to that of a roman gladiator, designed to protect mainly the sword arm and chest, with simple hand-made clothing beneath. The grand klaive strapped to his back cannot go unnoticed, such a concentrate of silver easily drawing your attention.

The two of you walk side by side at a slow pace, making your way through the woods.
"Jordan, I want you to know that my pack made every effort to get here as quickly as you could. I was very concerned for your well-being when I learned that Silvertorn and his pack were the only Garou around who were able to shelter you. My pack and I ran into obstacles along the way, which hampered our travels. The Wyrm's minions have grown more bold, and more powerful beneath the light of this red sun. A great many things are happening in the world, and even packs as prestigious as my own are not as safe as they once were.

In time, you will learn of the history of our people, if you are willing to listen. These days, a great many young Silver Fang has taken to the idea that our history is of little to no concern. I will tell you with years of experience in hard lessons learned, that nothing could be more false. There is a great story of how we came to rule the Garou Nation, and that too you will hear in time. What you must know now, is that we were hand picked by Luna, that is Aunt Moon, from the strongest of the Garou, back before tribes existed, and we were blessed by her to be the kings of our people. We were the strongest and wisest, the most excellent of all of Gaia's creation, we were made Silver Fangs because we were without equal in all of creation. To your human mind, this sounds like a creation myth, an allegory tale with some sort of hidden meaning. I speak with perfect clarity when I say that this is exactly how the creation of the first tribe went about.

Aunt Luna is a mercurial being though, never satisfied with one form for long, and her blessing came with a rule that we might rule without challenge for only seven years. This served us well for many, many years, until other Garou began to question our leadership. If our ancient beyond ancient ancestors could be challenged to rule after seven years, and defeated by younger Garou, why not challenged and replaced after five years? 3 years? Why should be allowed to rule at all, if we could be proven unworthy by simple misfortune? And so, other Garou grew rebellious and disrespectful. Silver Fangs were dethroned, leaving the other Garou to infighting as to who would take their place. The lack of leadership left the Nation distracted, and the Wyrm thrived in this chaos. Garou were torn apart where Silver Fangs did not lead.

Fearing for the Nation as a whole, one of our tribes greatest legends, Arak Mammoth-Bold sought out some way to restore his tribes sovereignty over the Garou. There are many tales of his travels and quest for answers, each a story unto itself, but at the end of his journey, he spoke to soaring Falcon, who flew highest than any other spirit, and who was eternally basking in the glow of Uncle Helios.

"Hail, Lord Falcon! How is that you rule the skies every morning with none to question your role or depose it after seven year?" cried out Arak Mammoth-Bold.

"I rule the sky by the will of my liege Helios, Emperor of the Day and Lord of the Night. His rule is eternal and unchanging. Although he denies his grace to the world for a number of hours so that night may come, he does so only because Gaia has asked it of him. He is a wise and merciful ruler!" replied Falcon.

"And how does one gain his fealty?" Arak Mammoth-Bold said.

"He cannot be approached by mortals, for his fire is too hot, and would burn them to cinders should they even enter the gate thresholds of his palace.You must approach him through one of his lordlings, such as I. But why do you ask this, wolf-changer? Your lady is Luna. By her grace do you shift shapes and deliver your fury against your foes."

"Our lady is fickle and irrational. She allows us to rule, for for only seven years each. And yet, the other tribes who do not even bear her touch may rule as long as they can hold their thrones. And humans live still longer, giving their rule even to their blood progeny." explained Arak Mammoth-Bold.

“Humans do so only by dint of Helios’ grace,” the falcon said. “They appeal to my lord through prayer,

and at times, he responds. It is his wish that their rulers be consistent and unchanging. Although he cannot

take death away from them, he can ordain their continued rule by familial lineage.”

“If I swore my fealty and that of all my tribe to you, falcon, would your Lord then grant me the same?"

The falcon was silent for a time, as if pondering the ramifications of such a request. His feathers then
began to glow, as if lit from within, and his eyes grew sharp. The Garou all stared intently at him, for they
knew that he was no longer just a falcon, but had become inhabited by the Falcon, the Animal Elder of
that race. It spoke: “You are wise, wolf-changer king. None before has thought to do this thing. Helios would not deign to intrude upon Luna’s realm unasked, but since you have asked it, I shall grant it. If you swear your tribe’s fealty to me and mine, then through me, Helios shall ordain your kingship for so long as you live. But my Lord cannot undo what you are: You must still follow the laws set forth among your kind. If one of your own should challenge your rule, by your own laws for such things, then, should he win, he shall be rightful king thereafter, until he in turn is challenged. But by my Lord’s decree, no such challenge will henceforth be required after seven years of rule."

And so Jordan, we were hand picked by Gaia herself as the best, and ordained by Luna and Helios to be the sovereign lords of the Garou nation.

The story does not end there, however. Aunt Luna, praise her for all she has bestowed upon us, is not one to be questioned. For our great ancestors challenge to her authority, she struck us with a with an eternal reminder that we are forever beneath her watchful eyes, far more so than beneath the gaze of Helios. What I speak to you of now must never, ever be spoke of outside of tribal circles, and must never be openly acknowledged to anyone. Our continued reign over the Garou comes at the cost of being touched by Luna, cursed with moon-madness. This afflicts each of us differently, and to varying degrees. I'm sure you may have experienced it yourself as some sort of madness. While this is not something we can be ashamed of, for it is the price of leadership and the price of our ancestor's hubris at trying to outwit Luna, it not something we can openly acknowledge, lest the other tribes believe it is a weakness they can challenge us on."