Welcome to the Great Land of Lycanshire. Well… it used to be great. Now the only thing great about it is the giant crater in the middle of it where the Castle used to stand. On the sides of the crater a familar amber substance can be seen in scattered deposits. Looking over the landscape, the country side leading from the edge of the crater is riddled with the ruins of civilizations ages old. There’s an eerie stillness in the air, and if one looks in one place too long, one could almost swear that the air was moving as if it were underwater.
Without the stabilizing force that Castle Lycanshire afforded the region, the tribes of the various changing breeds in the region broke out into war. Garou against Bastet… Corax against Gurahl… Annanasi against Nagah.. and only a few small camps for the human tribes that won’t leave for the only reason that this is the only life they’ve ever known. The only life they know how to survive.