Don't get cheeky with me, pup, all Garou who take a cub under wing are called "Uncle," regardless of gender. So don't go calling me "Aunt" or "Auntie" unless you want a big red welt in the shape of my hand. The Get don't tolerate insolence, and neither will I. Doesn't matter what Tribe you're actually from; you're in my charge, and you'd best show respect or things could get difficult for you 'til you mend your ways.

The first folk you're going to need to know about are the other Tribes, those who share with us the blood of the Wolf. There are thirteen Tribes of Garou on the face of Gaia today, but there were once sixteen. No one talks much about the Lost Tribes, but in the interest of your education, I'll tell you what I can.

Gaia, in her wisdom, made other shapechangers as well as those of us with the legacy of the great Fenris coursing through our veins. These others call themselves by many names: Skinchangers, Changing Children, some even have the arrogance to call themselves "The People." We Garou don't have very good relations with the other Changing Breeds due in large part to the War of Rage. Personally though, I have managed to convince a few of the others to let me tell their stories. Some were easier to convince than others. The Gurahl wanted only a thank you, but that damned Nuwisha! He wanted me to dye my coat pink! Can you imagine a PINK Get? [feral snarl] I warned him, if those pictures ever get out, he would pray for death! [sigh] The things I do in the name of our cubs! Just remember that, cub, and forget about seeing me in pink. In fact, forget you ever heard that. Besides, it's washed out now anyway.

You're going to need to know about the servants of the Wyrm too, and believe you me, their numbers are legion. I won't get into all the cosmology about how, back before dreams, before time, before anything, there was the Triat: the Wyld, the Weaver and the Wyrm. The Weaver trapped the Wyrm and drove it mad, and the Wyrm itself became three: the Defiler, Eater-of-Souls and Beast-of-War. That is a story for a later date. All you need to know for now is who your enemies are, and that they are worse than any feverish nightmare.

Gaia, where do I begin? Firstly, there are the Fallen Ones. Garou that once were among the bravest, rivaling only the Get in ferocity. They were the White Howlers. Now they are slaves to the Wyrm, living deep underground near the toxic by-products of human civilization, reveling in their madness, claiming it gives them deeper insight down their chosen path, the Black Spiral. Hence their name: the Black Spiral Dancers.

Then too, there's Pentex. Far too broad a topic to go into here. Pentex is a multi-national conglomerate with a finger (tentacle?) in every pie. I doubt very much that there is an industry on the planet that doesn't have at least one Pentex subsidiary involved somewhere. You've heard of conspiracy theories, well, this one's more than a theory. You think I'm joking? Okay then, try this on for size. Endron International, the folks who provide light and power to you and countless millions. Magadon, Inc., who bring you better living through chemistry. Avalon Incorporated, makers of toys that make firecrackers look benign by comparison. Omni Television Network, the folks who brought you Sport fishing the Hudson River and The World's Most Painful Home Videos. If that's not enough, what about your local Herrick's store? They're your one stop shopping place for all your Wrym-tainted needs. They stock Circinus cigarettes, King beers and spirits, Hallahan's seafood, Good House paper products, Rainbow plastics, Tellus computers and software, Young and Smith's food products and personal care items, and a host of others. Do you see what I'm getting at here? They're everywhere! I'd bet you have some of these products in your home right now. Even we Get realize that there has to be a better way than just attacking the Pentex corporate headquarters. Do you have any idea how many Dancers, fomori and First Teamers they have guarding the place? Neither do I, but it's more than a whole hell of a lot.

When confronted with the numbers, you may feel hopeless, like nothing you do will make any difference. Well, cub, not doing anything at all sure as hell won't make any difference. We may be fighting a losing battle, we may be stalling for time, but when the Apocalypse comes, the Wyrm will pay dearly. And we're going to make damned sure of that. We won't go down without a fight. We're the only hope Gaia has left. Without us, she is surely doomed.