The hunt is crucial to a Werewolf and to partake in it is one of the most sacred tenants of the Oath. The wind on one's face, the thrill of the chase, and the smell of the kill will move a Werewolf's like few other things can... but sometimes, they don't get to be the hunters sometimes the prey comes with guns and a plan.
Your pack has finally got everything together. Your Territory is secure, your totem is pleased. Everything seems to be going right, until a stranger enters your territory. Everywhere he goes, disaster strikes. His very presence upsets the spirit world.
Not all of the Forsaken are so lucky to live in the country some are, forced to live in the city. Territories are small and tightly clustered often the neighbors suck. Your neighborers are Pure and they got to go! Gotta knock 'em down and make damn sure they can't get back up again.
Two nights ago a pack mate caught a scent that turned his fur white and sent him into convulsions. Now you're looking for what carries the scent. This is the third installment at Gen Con. So bring your own 130 point Forsaken or play a pregen.
Don't let the Man get you down. Times can be tough if you and your pack gotta get jobs to pay for your weed and Cheetos. And if dealing with the Soccer Moms and shoplifting teens ain't bad enough, some clown down at Picadilly's is serving up human flesh with the banana cream pie.