The Face of Rage series

By: Robert Nordman

An alternative look at the Get of Fenris Tribe. Introduction The original version of this text was published in January 2001 on Ex Libris Nocturnis, and was intended as an alternative take on aspects from the Revised Tribebook. After just under twenty years, I had the opportunity to return to this text and revise it.

A few background notes are needed in order to understand some choices I’ve made. First of all, while the Goddess of Love did have valkyrias serving her as well as Odhinn, the more appropriate term “Shieldmaiden” has finally made its way into popular culture. This is what I had chosen to name the camp “Valkyrias of Freya” already in 2001, and I would encourage anyone to use this term even if you would disregard everything else in this text. It more accurately reflects the history of female warriors of the North.

Secondly, what names were and were not used for various gods in Norse myth is a debated issue. Many names we know of come from the work of Snorri Sturluson, and today we know that he let his own imagination take over and invent gods that had de facto never been heard of. The main reason why this must be kept in mind when reading the work below is because the name "Tyr" is one such ambiguous god.

Tyr was, according to some sources, the god of war, but so was Odhinn/Odin/Wotan/Wodan. Furthermore the word "tyr" also means god (roughly, as per "Hangantyr" meaning the "god of the hanged" which is one of the many names of Odhinn). What we have, then, is a situation where we have two gods of war who can clearly not be the same. This is one of the primary reasons I chose to portray the relationship between Tyr and Fenris the way I did.

----------------------------------------- A Fenrir explains

"I am NOT a neo-Viking!" -Gunnar Njalason, Fostern Forseti of the Get of Fenris "Only a month ago was I accepted as an Adren but already I am tired." The words were uttered by a young man with blonde hair, blue eyes and solidly chiseled face. "But I’m not tired of this war, if that’s what you think I’m talking about. I was born into this war, I know nothing else. No, I’m tired of hearing how my tribe is always so hot-headed, so ready to die." There was some stirring among the crowd here at the Moonshard Caern. They knew who he was alright, a Skald of the Get of Fenris with a long line of heroes standing behind him in the mists of history. His name was Ari Nyberg. That too they knew. What they didn’t know was what he was talking about. Everyone knows the Get are always charging into battle without a thought. You could just take a look at his pack, the Fimbul Wolves, and one would one see that it was true: Six Adren, all of them marked by too many battles. "It’s true in one way, we are ready and we never back down, but for more than two thousand years none of your tribes have asked yourselves why. I think it’s just about time to reveal that." He shifted his stance and gazed around the crowd to see if he had their attention. Without a doubt he had. "Thousands of years ago our tribe set out north and we stayed there. Never once did we intrude on anyone else’s lands. An empire arose in Egypt; we took care of our own business. Another rose in Greece, we went about our own business. Yet another empire rose and fell in Italy. Still we took care of our own business. We took the time to clean out our lands in the north, trusting that you of the other tribes would do the same as you had promised when first we parted.” Another short pause.

“When Rome started to fall, we had begun to realize it was not so. In east, south, and west came minions of the Devourer. We stopped them, but another wave came, and then another. Our Kinfolk did not dare remain where they had lived for countless generations and so they moved on. For a long time, we did not realize what was happening, how could we? So much was happening all around us, but we were assured that it would all be taken care of. We waited. But then we had had enough, and we did what we have always done: We went out and got the job done! Our Kinfolk and we who are born true went out together to go to the bottom of it. If the other tribes wouldn’t take care of it then by Great Fenris we would! We fought Draugr in Constantinople, we fought Zmei in Russia and we fought Spirals in Britain. And what did we get? Complaints about how rough and brutal we were."

He didn’t shout that last part. Not a single sign of it being an accusation, only a matter-of-fact statement, and that made it sink in more. Had it not been that and the fact that he continued so quickly, then someone would probably have drawn a klaive right then and there, or dismissed him as a whining, pathetic youngster. They were not given time to start thinking in those lines though.

"Time went by and the New World was discovered. We heard how the Spirals had begun to move there and our tribe pursued them. I’m pretty sure I don’t have to tell you what happened. Two questions come to mind: What would have happened had we not done that, and why had the so-called Pure Ones only bound the Banes? Back home in our lands we had destroyed those that were there, and it worked better no matter how many great warriors died while doing it.” Once more Ari paused, shooting a glance at an American Fenrir “Though you shouldn’t get too full of yourself either. Too many left our homelands. You left Europe to rot. But I’ll get to that.”

Back to addressing the rest of the crowd:

“Getting back to how we handled what monsters Jormungandr threw at us: I’m also pretty tired of hearing how we should not sacrifice ourselves in smaller battles since ‘We need every Garou in the final battle.’ Final battle? It’s been 75 years the purest form of Jormungand’s powers were unleashed over Japan, and you still haven’t understood, have you? There won’t be one final battle. There is one long war that adds up. Final battle is a metaphor. Every single time we engage the enemy it is a part of the Great War, and we need to win every battle and that is what my tribe is about: To get the job done. I’m done now, so anyone wish to kick my ass for being so blunt and rude come try me right now." And he calmly sat down.

Perspectives There are many great misconceptions about the Get of Fenris, and the greatest of these is that they are all mindless, brutal, arrogant bastards who die with the quote "You are weak" on their lips. Sure, such exist as well, but that is not what Great Fenris had originally planned. Some would say that those Fenrir who fit into that category are indirect victims of propaganda from the other tribes, and they are probably right. The Fenrir of the Endtimes are once again returning to their roots as pragmatic warriors. They will do whatever is necessary, and in knowing they and their entire race are destined to die are not afraid of the ultimate sacrifice should it be the only way. They do not care much for the old grudges: They simply do not have time for it anymore. It is time to live, time to die, and most of all a time to make a difference. Of Chains It was the day after the impromptu-speech he had held, wounds and bruised ages being healed. Ari sat, amused, after hearing a speech by an obvious member of the Mjollnir’s Thunder.

"So that is what they think about Him is it? I sure wonder where they got that from..." He was from the Old Country as everyone around here seemed to call it, and every single one of them getting some weird romantic look in their eyes in saying it. Ah well, let them think it’s so bloody special. The only thing that irritated him was their misconceptions anyway, and that would be easy to set straight. "You are wrong about so many things, Thunderer, and maybe it is fitting that I, a Skald from forgotten Finland, should be the one to correct you about both Great Fenris, the question of female warriors and whole lot of other shit. To irritate you even more I will start off by saying that Fenris never asked us to go out and cull the weak from neither humanity nor the other tribes to make sure they were strong enough. That is propaganda from your own camp to justify your behavior. Have you even thought that you may simply have gotten lost when the urge to fight for a cause, that feeling all of our tribe has, overwhelmed you and you did not know how to channel it? What he did ask us to do was to go out and make sure there was an army ready come Ragnarök." He paused there and gave a flashing smile to the Thunderer who was quite clearly on the verge of going berserk. "For some years I have travelled around the world to hear what members of our tribe are up to, but few things make me more worried than the lack of true knowledge about what happened to Great Fenris. In the first days, when Moder Jord gave our kind the ability to walk among the children of Ape in their own shape, Great Fenris did so too. From among those he saw, he chose those who would be able to survive in the lands he was taking his tribe. They gave him a name, these humans, a name so many of us have forgotten the true meaning of: "The one of godlike strength" – Tyr.

“All was fine for a long time, but Fenris could feel he was slipping, losing control. His archenemy, the Beast-of-War, many times tried to snare him. Each time Fenris could feel his Rage grow even greater. He was told by the Norns that he was destined to be the ultimate vessel of Rage, to channel all grief and frustration of both man and wolf in the endtimes, and so he went to wise Mimir seeking advice. "You fear that you will bring about Ragnarök before it is time? Then you must separate the man from the wolf, willingly bind yourself until it is time to rampage across the face of the earth and purge it in the end of days.", is what Mimir told him, and so he did.

“In the final battles of what most over here call the Apocalypse, Great Fenris will indeed rampage across the world. He will do so through us, his chosen, while he himself runs wild in the realm of spirits. Think about it. It makes a whole lot more sense than the silly romantical views held in some places I could mention." Fishing in the murky waters of legends is a difficult thing, and even more so for a species of beings with a history stretching far beyond the earliest humans. The truth may or may not be the one presented above, but in this day and age the Fenrir have begun looking for it again in hopes of finding clues to what exactly will happen after Ragnarök: Not even the True Völuspa is detailed enough. Consensus in Scandinavia holds that Fenris and Tyr appears to have been one and the same – the severing of the arm was what he did to separate the man from the wolf – and that in the end he will indeed rampage across the world with his followers, the tribe, alongside him. The latter is also interpreted as being a metaphor, of course, and could possibly mean that once he has broken free of the chains he will send out orders to every single Fenrir in the world and tell them what they must do. He himself will rampage across the Umbra with his brood, possibly all the way to Malfeas, according to this interpretation. Maidens of the Battlefield While others were biting back their anger, Anna was busy holding back laughter. Ari sure knew how to both provoke and make sure his point got through. Her thoughts were led astray by his mentioning female warriors, once again the voice of her grandfather echoed in her mind:

"Before Christianity infected our culture, we did indeed have female warriors. They were called "Shieldmaidens", one of the few things Saxo actually got right in his "Gesta Danorum." You see, there is a great difference between being female and being feminine. Being female is a physical thing - having female organs - while being feminine is more a mental one. Our tribe has always discouraged femininity in our warriors. Before you ask: Yes, it’s that thing with homosexuality. Like all other tribes of people our kinfolk could simply not be allowed to be that, it simply would be bad for reproduction.

At least we didn’t try to claim it was a commandment from some god or another like some I could mention. Anyway...somewhere in the last seven centuries the whole idea of what women could or could not be allowed to do was misunderstood by those who had gotten infested by Christianity and the whole thing got misinterpreted. Like so many other traditions and views on life. No, not as much up here, but down in mainland Europe and just about everywhere else. Sure, we had it here as well. But there is a damn good reason why Denmark, Finland, Iceland, Norway and Sweden have been in the frontline when it comes to equality between the sexes: It simply wasn’t that much of a step to go back to older tradition."

‘Oh grandfather. You were quite full of prejudice too’, Anna though as she glanced at these batteries of pure testosterone that were crowding her packleader and could no longer hold back the laughter. Traditions are strong in the tribe, but even so they have not been able to resist being affected by cultures around them. After all, they too have in many cases grown up among humans – and it is only in this era of global travel the older traditions have started to return in other parts of the world. The Shieldmaidens have survived, and now they are starting to openly demand the respect they deserve. As always with the Fenrir this has of course been done through quite physical means from time to time. The ultimate argument in many circumstances has been the fact that in a pack of wolves the entire pack help rear the children, and that, too, is how many humans did in older times. Few have been able to argue against that, at least without showing that they are not close enough to their wolven instincts. Admitting loss of those instincts would be the last thing any of the Fenrir tribe would do. Femininity in those who would be warriors (i.e. Ahroun) is most often still frowned upon, to say the least, and Gaia save any Fenrir who finds he is gay. Despite the open-mindedness in many countries in Europe, and Scandinavia in particular, the Get in general still hold more than strong prejudice against them. Those few who find they are in fact homosexual try their damnedest best to look for a strategy to handle it. From the Heart Typical...one of those oh, so righteous Children of Gaia who thought she had it all together and again would point things out. Yeah, he sure knew the kind. Prejudiced to the core, no matter how much they wanted to view themselves otherwise. He decided on a preemptive strike, just to get it over with. Sure, he and his tribe was not the original keepers of this caern, but he would be damned if he let this fool start slandering his ancestors for it.

"We weren’t the ones who built any empires you know, so just drop the whole "You have always been out to conquer"-tirade. Oh, and while you’re at it you can drop the "Gloryhound"-stuff as well. What we do we do to honor our ancestors, help our families and to make sure our kids will have at least some kind of future. And guess what...We’ve always done it that way. If you just drop your pink and black glasses, you’ll find that we aren’t as damn bad as you want us to be, and that we don’t seek total war: We seek decisive wins. Yup, you got it...the whole warmonger issue seems rather misplaced considering that we in our "fierce and cold lands in the north" have two of the worlds rare totally demilitarized zones, and that my tribe were among the strongest voices in favour of it. There you have it, Silentheart. If you drop your prejudices we could actually get along, get drunk and simply have some fun together before we go nail that Thunderwyrm." Honor, glory of the battle, and doing what has to be done. That is the heart and soul of the fierce tribe from the cold north, and should really be all that needs to be said about them, but any outsider will fail to understand them without knowing what they really mean. When a Fenrir speaks of honor, he does so with the undertone of ‘The honor of my family, my ancestors and my descendants.’ This is a remnant from days of old when the relationship between those who were bred true and their kinfolk was as close as any can be. For several thousands of years there was no such thing as individuality in the modern sense; there was no room for people pursuing personal goals and thereby neglecting their duties. Total dependence on your close ones – this was true even for Garou – carries with it a mentality that remains today in Fenrir, and of course Lupus, culture: Be useful, or get out of the way.

Later, in the age of the vikings, this was summed up in the Havamal: "The halt can manage a horse, the handless a flock, The deaf be a doughty fighter, To be blind is better than to burn on a pyre: There is nothing the dead can do." What this originally meant was of course that no matter what you do and what you may lack in capability there is always something you can do; in fact you are required to do your best. You will have plenty of time to rest when you’re dead, so let’s get on with it.

“Now, I promised I would get to you Americans. You left Europe to rot, and you wonder why we were not so welcoming when you swooped in during the great wars of the last Century. Let me tell you why: Those Fenrir who first went across the Atlantic did the right thing. Clearly those so-called ‘Pure Ones’ were clueless. But that does not forgive what happened in the middle of the 1800’s. You all left, taking the kinfolk with you. Not even a generation later, caerns started dying for lack of defenders. It wasn’t even the forces of Jormungandr who did it. No, it was from no new Fenrir being born there. I would collectively accuse your ancestors of breaking the Litany, in leaving caerns to be violated, but your ancestors are not here. But think about that when you wonder why most everyone in Europe rallied not behind some would be King from the United States, but a Lord whose ancestors stayed.” It was after this Ari and his pack once more had to defend themselves.

The promise of the New World was tempting for many in Europe, and especially the Fenrir and the Fianna were hit hard by not only their members but also their Kin left for new shores. This at the time when the Weaver truly spun her webs tighter than ever before in Europe. Entire regions lost up to two-thirds of their population over the span of a few short decades, and it changed those countries profoundly. Fate, Fatalism and Fatality The Get of Fenris know that they are born to die, and they know this on a very profound level. Belief in the Wyrd, fate, has always been part of their culture – it has even stuck among those in the diaspora. No matter where in the world you ask a member of the tribe you will hear them say that "Dying on the field of battle is dying a good death." What most do not know, even some in the tribe, is that this too is based on tradition as old as the tribe itself: It is prophesied that after Ragnarök the world will be reborn, and Gaia will no longer have need of her most favoured guardians. To live for a purpose, fight for a purpose and in the end die for that purpose is the lot of the Fenrir – and they have known it all along. Some speculate that this is the reason so few of this tribe fall to Harano, but that may well be wishful thinking. Belief in fate is, for most Fenrir, not a thing that makes them feel like they have lost control of their lives. Quite the opposite. They trust the fact that whatever is done is part of their Wyrd, and that they therefore need only fulfill it in a manner that will leave them satisfied with what they have achieved. The modern proverb “There is no bad weather, only bad clothing” [Det finns inget dåligt väder, bara dåliga kläder] profoundly sums up this view on Wyrd: You cannot control the weather, but you can be prepared for it. Few greater sins exist that being unprepared. Being destined to die, and trusting in Fate, is perhaps one of the best comforts for many in the tribe that may well have the highest death-toll of them all. Even Garou feel grief, after all, but the basic thought of "They were supposed to die that way" helps them along through the process. This may of course be one of the reason some find them coldhearted, not knowing why they react like they do. Camp/Subtribe: The Aarja Few remember the days before the Uktena, Croatan and Wendigo left for the lands across the ocean, and even fewer remember that they left kinfolk behind, especially the Uktena. When those who would soon come to be called the Fenrir first settled in the cold wastes of northernmost Scandinavia, they met some of these. In those days there were even a few Garou of the Uktena around, but soon after they had been assimilated into the newly arrived tribe. These were tied to the ethnic group today called the Sámi At first this was not a problem, Garou was still Garou, but as time passed and cultural differences became more and more obvious the Sámi Fenrir/Uktena-mix isolated themselves step by step. With the change of climate between the Bronze Age and the Iron Age came the natural break: None of the Fenrir south of the polar circle found any reason to go north anyway. Even if they had, their kin would not follow so they would be unable to settle there. Between then and up until the 17th Century the Sámi were largely left to their own.

Few, if any, news travelled to septs outside their own sphere. One or two "scri-fenni" travelled south and were remembered as renowned archers, and that was enough to settle any worries the others in the tribe would otherwise have: As long as they were good at something and fought well there was no reason to look twice. Then came logging industry and, 600 years after the rest of Scandinavia, missionaries. The religious practices of the Noaodi were banned and the traditions of their culture branded as heathen ways. In the years that followed the Sámi would suffer the same fate as indigenous tribes all over the world when conquerors figured they wanted land.

What did their southern tribesmates do? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. The Aarja were first simply devastated. Here they had been keeping the old traditions alive, worshipping the old gods unhindered, and when they were driven off their native lands their tribesmates... were "busy." They Raged as only Fenris’ own can. And that was when their tribesmates came. "They are out of control", is what the southerners figured, cheered on by the then still existing House Winter Snow of the Silver Fangs. A second assimilation process started, but this time there was more resistance. Today they are recognized, grudgingly, as a camp with their own unique culture. The Aarja see themselves as a tribe, a doubly betrayed tribe: Abandoned by both Uktena and the Get of Fenris. Only one tribe has fully understood them, namely the Children of Gaia. Latest development: They hold only two caerns all in all, one recently having fallen to the forces of Luohi in northern Finland, but these wo have seen the addition of new groups seeking refuge: Red Talons and lupus-born Fenrir of northern Finland, which has led to a whole new set of problems. To further add to the difficult situation they have been approached by a spirit who wishes to be their totem: The Fimbul Wolf. Totem: Fimbul Wolf Background cost: 6 Born to survive in the coldest climate, the wolf-spirit also known as "Fenris’ vengeance" has recently taken on packs as his own children. If this is a sign that some will survive the End Times – as the wolves of the fimbulwinter are supposed to – or not has yet to be seen. Fimbul Wolf not so much hates the Wyrm as he sees it as his duty to fight it with all his heart and soul, feeling that the Wyrm is not even worth contempt or hate. ["One does not hate a disease, one gets medicine."] It is striking that Fimbul Wolf, unlike Garm, Freki, Geri, Skoll and Hati, is allowed by Fenris to take children as his own, and not a few have wondered why. Fimbul Wolf grants his children Survival 2, and can teach the Silent Strider Gift: Adaptation. Ban: The children of Fimbul Wolf must pay back any debt, good or bad, in full. Sample septs

Sept of the Sacred Portal Location: Southern Öland, Sweden. History: This is Sweden´s youngest Sept, though the caern is an old one. It arose around the Iron age castle of Eketorp when one of the archaeologists, a Kinfolk, discovered that there was a faint hint of an old caern in the middle of the excavated village. With help from National Historical Museum the castle has been rebuilt to what it supposedly looked like about a thousand years ago. Today the castle itself is a museum six months a year. The organization of it all has been tedious, trying to hide under the very noses of humans, and there are still problems to deal with. The explanation "Oh, it´s just the museum employees having some private party" and the likes only do that much. Some kind of mystical hiding of the activities will be needed sooner or later, and the elders of the Sept are currently looking for someone with ideas about this. Currently: Of course one cannot hide a caern just like that, and some agents of the Wyrm are on to them. Another thing to deal with is smuggling...of people, since the island of Gotland is under this Sept’s protectorate as well after the Caern of the Blue (located on the small island Sandön, near Gotland) fell. Tribal structure: Get of Fenris and Glass Walkers. Grand Elder: Erik Nilsson Raging Storm, Athro Modi. Roleplaying Notes: In spite of what your deedname says you are usually pretty calm, and that is one of the reasons why you were suitable for the task of leading this sept. You are not born on Öland and therefore have some problems holding back the urge to shift to the wolven shape and run wild for a while, but apart from that you act very much like the head of the museum as you are expected to do. Only one thing has you uncomfortable: The fact that one of your former packmates, a half moon with a thing against tourists, is not part of the sept. This lack of a good advisor who really knows you, the person, has you frustrated from time to time. Image: Though he is impressive in many ways he does not look the typical Full Moon, and much less leader of a sept. This may of course be his greatest advantage: With his short, blonde, hair and only "normally trained" build he can pass for being a scholar and hence the supervisor of the museum. He is also fairly young, only in his thirties, which further adds to the impression of him not being you typical berserker. Stats: Appropriate for an Athro who rose in rank so quickly he hardly had time to breathe. He has much knowledge and experience for someone his age, but he never had the time to sit down and learn many Rites or Gifts. Sept of the Thousand Lakes Location: The region of St Michel’s, Kymmene and part of Karelia’s, Finland. History: This sept is the youngest and oldest in Finland. As a way to deal with the Shadow Curtain four septs (Two Water, Kolja’s Mountain, Pellervoinen’s Island and the Four Great) joined together under common leadership in 1993. Since then it has been led by two Fenrir, even if both Children of Gaia, Silver Fangs, Shadow Lords and even the odd Glass Walker can be found within the sept’s territory. Between then and 1999 the sept served as a center from which almost all strategic maneuvering throughout the country were done: No sept in Finland has ever had more members, after all, and nothing gather the Garou better than such a tangible outside threat as the Curtain posed. Twenty-Lake caern: Located in the middle of the south-eastern lake district, this is the oldest caern in Finland. According to some legends the Bronze Man lies, resting, in the waters here, waiting to be commanded by Luonnantar or Väinömöinen once more. This is the main caern in the Thousand Lake sept. Kolja’s Mountain caern: It used to be a small mountain, some several thousand years ago, but today it is only slightly elevated. Being neighbour to a certain smith (Ilmarinen) carries with it two things: Those resident here slowly become a bit otherworldly, and they are also the ones most likely to create the most marvelous Fetishes. Historically, however, this former sept was known for training the fiercest warriors in the country. The Four Great caern: This former sept houses, apart from Shadow Lords and Fenrir, a handful of Glass Walkers. Of all the septs that united this was the one facing the greatest problems: Near it lies not only a seaport – to which many Russian fugitives came during the time of the Shadow Curtain – but also one of Finland’s nuclear plants. Pellervoinen’s Island caern: The members of this former sept were crucial in forging the agreement between the septs, as befits a sept comprised of Get of Fenris and Children of Gaia. This forceful combination may prove to be the only thing that keeps the sept from falling apart. Currently: Of course this is a hotbed of intrigue, even if it has not led to open infighting sofar. One of the main reasons behind that fact may well be the charismatic Grand Elder who, having been part of a mixed pack, seems able to deal not only with different tribes but also with different breeds. Will they be able to keep it together in spite the odds? Small things like a Metis being born or an unpopular sentence from a Philodox could well be enough to ignite the flames. Grand Elder: Ulfr Claw-That-Rends, Elder Skald Roleplaying Notes: Yes, you are Lupus born, but with the history of your line and with your own spending some 48 of your 64 years mostly in homid, few can today tell your breed. It only shows through when you are in any way defied or disrespected while acting in your position as leader. Usually, a mere look from you is enough to make the offender realize they did something very wrong. If nothing else the fact that others usually start to cringe when this happens is enough to give them a hint. As a leader you try to combine many behaviours: A well placed compliment here, a direct order there, but in general letting people do what they need to do. You know where most of the people here stand after all; you’ve known them since they were young, and not a few of them were taken through their Passagerites by you. The great question is if you will be able to deal with your natural suspicion towards the Glass Walkers well enough to keep this together. Image: In homid he is a rather tall man with quite a few wrinkles and a fiercely intense look in his blue eyes, and the fact that his blonde hair has started turning gray only adds to the image of a veteran warrior. He is strongly built, and with multiple scars on his left arm, right leg and his back. Some have been wondering why he is usually dressed in a t-shirt from Russia, a dirty trenchcoat and black jeans when in this form, and they will be left to wonder that until the day they die. If he can avoid it, he refuses to wear shoes. In his birthform he is an impressive gray wolf. This is the shape where one can see more easily just how badly scarred he is: There is no fur on much of his back and those two legs (front left and back right).

Stats: Appropriate for an Elder Lupus Skald with much experience of battles and teaching cubs the Ways and the old legends.