After our kind committed the sacrament we feasted on the hearts of our pursuers. We took back our lands from the humans that tormented us, from the vampires that hunted us. We diverged our paths, eventually laying claim to other covens and making bloodlines. Our children were born with the wolves within them. The blessing of the triple goddess flowing through our veins and her bite for as long as she allows. But our prosperity did not continue unabated. We fell into the trappings of power so common to humans. Those above looked down on those below. Those below scorned those above for they had the power in their veins to make them obey. The hierarchy was instilled since the first drop of the sacrament touched High Priestess Seleste's lips. Every following drink of the moon drenched liquid held less power for the next and so it has stayed, but not for long, not anymore.
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The Sacrament
WerewolfThe original Sacrament bestowed the wolf form among Hecate's followers. A gift that let them fight back toward those that would hunt them but now ill-contentment grows across the weaker bloodlines as those above advance and look down upon them. Hush...
