Ch 0 the Opening Pages
#1 of The Life Story of a wealthy werewolf
This story is based on my cwod char Torvo. a lot of references are for the world of darkness werewolves of the Apocalypse series and i apoligize in advance for those who do not understand some or all of the references within
What is the World, Is it a place where the light of god shines down upon those who deserve it, or the fires of hell engulf those who don't. Every waking moment the latter feels true. Every crushing defeat of my life, every tiny mistake I have made, all of it just seems to drag me further towards the abyss. And now I sit here writing my life's story into a computer. Though ninety percent of those who read it will forget the words as it passes their eyes, I still feel obliged to put it on paper for some reason unkown to even myself. So in lack of a more creative mind to drive my words I begin at the beginning
The year of my birth was September twenty-seventh 1767. I was raised by my tribe of Garou in the so called new world. though after a month and I was old enugh to fend for myself I was outcast due to the silver hair and eyes that gifted me. My tribe believed that the pure metis of my blood would hobble me. They couldn't have known how wrong they were, the very next year I bought a small flat in Boston and a gun. Though I must admit the taxes were a tad outrageous. Then on the horrific day March fifth 1770, I met the love of my life.
I was a part of an organized protest on king street that day protesting like all the humans, Garou, Kindred and fey were. When suddenly a shot rang out, don't you think for a second it was the British or the protesters. Hunters closed in on the crowd in the resulting panic. Many good people were lost that day but then I saw her. A magnificent Garou woman by the name of Morgana, her claws were as sharp as her wit and her hair and fur in her true form shined a golden blond flaked with blood. A hunter with an axe closed on her from behind and I fired my gun without hesitation. I was lucky; I missed the shot but it gave her enough of a warning to duck and take a bite out of the hunters throat. Then she smiled, no not just the smile of a grateful woman. There was something far more then that her blond fur stained by blood smiling with scraps of meat In her teeth. And with that we ran, we fled the city together and bought a small cottage in the woods which we lived happily. That is until the war began
When the so called revolutionary war began I petitioned Morgana for neutrality. She would not hear a word of it. It turned out she was part of a tribe known as the red talons, human hating extremists but she was far more than that. She firmly believed in the right for all living things to be free, putting aside her hatred of humans so that millions may be free. We fought many battles together during his time. But as with all wars victory drew near, we returned to our cottage intending to live a quiet life together peacefully away from humans... then they came
It brings tears to my eyes to reminisce this day but this story would be lifeless without the words. We were sipping our tea in the last few weeks of the war in our cottage when we smelt flames on the wind. The hunters had come for us and they were colonial militia, the same group we served for those years. The same humans who we defended their freedom now turned against us. They were upon us to fast. They burned our cottage and came with silver bullets and knives. We couldn't run, so we fought. Fang over claw we slaughterd them but they had numbers and range. I was struck with a silver bullet through my head though only a graze I fell unconscious. The last thing I could remember was Morgana being run through with a silver dagger. When I awoke I was coverd in blood that was not my own and morgana was noware to be found. I was in the middle of the forest and the only thing left of the love of my life was her silver flask carved with great care of Luna and the Wyld. I cried...