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Revolutionary Gathering of Friends

**Title:** **The Revolt of the Fates** **Attractive Description:** In the tumultuous world of Weckoplay, two revolutionaries emerge from the shadows to challenge elite oppression. Frothy, an 18-year-old with a murderous look and a katana in hand, fights tirelessly to overturn the educational system that marginalizes failures and loners. Dressed in his iconic black and red hoodie, he is a symbol of resistance, determined to bring justice to those who have been forgotten. At the same time, Rumar, an heir to the powerful Heavenly Beast clan of Hell, emerges with his own vision of revolution. With the power to trap bullies in the hell of his heavenly beast, he quickly becomes a feared and respected figure. When the territories' leaders attempt to co-opt him for their own ends, Rumar demonstrates his unmatched strength, subduing them and consolidating his rule. Their fates become intertwined in an explosive confrontation.

Cineware · แฟนตาซี
เรตติ้งไม่พอ
423 Chs

3

Learning to read people is an important skill for a werewolf. The Rage sets people on edge, makes them hard to predict. "Unpredictable in unpredictable ways," Clay said in one of his more poetic moments, and it's true. You're not exactly scared of getting mugged or beaten up—when push comes to shove, you can always bite—but you don't want to draw unwelcome attention. You'll have to stay alert.

You scan the streets, letting a few people go by without getting in, taking a few short jaunts just to get a feel for people here as they move east. Then you flag down a local delivery driver going your way.

He's chill, and he takes you all the way to Rochester. That night, you meet a granddad in a beat-up old Volvo who has serial killer glasses but no other serial killer vibes. He takes you east until he reaches his grandson's house in Syracuse.

One guy after that gets really aggressive, demanding a blowjob for a trip to Albany once you're in his pickup. You tell him to fuck off and he takes you anyway, but the drive is tense, and he drops you off in the middle of nowhere. Still, you're making good time, and you snag another ride before you get too cold. And then another.

You're feeling okay, despite your exhaustion. You let your mind wander—just a little—as headlights streak across your vision and the miles count down. You think about the tribes. Clay said that soon after you became a true Garou, you'd start to hear the calls of the Patron Spirits that watch over what's left of the Garou Nation. A mere cub can't join a tribe, but you've thought about each of them over the years. You think about…

The Black Furies, wolves who destroy those who prey upon the weak.

The Bone Gnawers. A tribe of survivors and secret-hunters, mistrusted by other Garou for their ability to survive anywhere, even in the urban wastelands of major cities.

The Children of Gaia, who seek harmony and reconciliation, only shredding through flesh and bone when no other choice is available.

The Hart Wardens, a tribe of laughing warrior-poets dedicated to the untamed beauty and grandeur of the natural world.

The Glass Walkers. The future: techno-shamans and corporate raiders who pit the Weaver—the cosmic principle of order and machinery—against the depravity of the Wyrm.

The Shadow Lords: ruthless and pragmatic, as hard and cold as mountain peaks. The only werewolves with the courage to make the hard decisions and the brains to carry them out.

The Silver Fangs. Kings of the Garou Nation, once fallen to lethargy and madness, now looking for new blood.

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