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 The path that the Forsaken walk is dripped in blood and steeped in hardship; bearing Father Wolf's obligations and Mother Luna's blessings means they are neither human nor spirit, neither monster nor hero. Tasked to carry on the Greatest Hunt in the stead of their slaughtered forebear, the Forsaken guard the mortal realm from the disruptions and machinations of the Shadow.

 And the gifts, the burdens, they come with a heavy cost, one whose only tender is blood. It is a cost the Uratha of Delaware Valley have paid handsomely, many times over, since before even the founding of Philadelphia when they raged through the countryside during the Beaver Wars, repelling foreign invaders from a key supply line chokepoint on the Schuylkill River so viciously that the disruption extended the war by years, and the enemy incursion was forced to give up and find another route. In those body-littered woods, and fields, and streams, the Uratha sewed the first seeds of Resonance that would birth the potent Revolutionary Court.

 But war is not the end of warring, and Philadelphia only grew larger, and with its increased population also came more wolves. After years of an uneasy truce between colonial settlers and native inhabitants, and far too many grievous dust-ups, the Delaware Valley Protectorate was chartered by an Elodoth named Talking-Blood. The hope was, it's said, that if the wolves of their respective Tribes hunted together, howled the songs of rites together, ate meals together, felled prey together, that they might learn to live together, too. And though it took many years, it was a gamble that paid off, a bond that was calcified when a fully unified Five Tribes of Philadelphia called a Siskur-Dah and put down a pack of Anshega who were exacerbating the city's struggle with yellow fever with Disease Gifts and infestation rites.

 At the turn of the 19th century, a young and reckless and ambitious pack of Iron Masters called the Burning Forge influenced and expedited the mechanical developments of one Lehigh Coal & Navigation Company, setting off a local spirit war between the River Court and the burgeoning Industry Court that neither side has ever quite forgotten nor formally agreed to end, much to the chagrin of the Bone Shadows. Incidentally, this also sparked the First Industrial Revolution. Those who still grumble about this often refer to it as the Ignominy of the Forgers.

 But in present-day Philadelphia, the times could hardly be darker. A Wound festers just south of the city's borders, more than half the Blood Talon Tribe was lost in the battle that burnt the lesion through the Shadow and into the land, and the long-standing Delaware Valley Protectorate is at its weakest, riddled with internal turmoil. The Anshega are out there, peering in at Philadelphia from the far reaches and dark corners, and they are not alone in creatures of the night who sense an opportunity. The Forsaken of the city must walk the razor's edge of survival, with potential annihilation on all sides.

 They are outnumbered by their prey. They are outnumbered by their enemies.

 And this story is true.