Grief and joy, love and war, life and death — life is a series of contradictions, and the Fianna embrace them all. The Tribe of Stag are passionate Garou who exult in the pleasures of the flesh as well as the more abstract delights of a song well-sung or a battle well-fought. Their philosophy is far from a shallow “live in the now” concept, though.
The Fianna are prominent lorekeepers and bards, fascinated with the history of all tribes as well as their own. Their Galliards have a particular place of honor within the tribe, but every auspice is expected to learn lessons from the past.
The Fianna trace their origins back to Western Europe, where they had a particular fondness for the Celtic peoples. They stress this cultural identity perhaps more than most other tribes do; members aren’t as prone to marry outside Celticdescended bloodlines, and they prefer to adorn their weapons and fetishes with knotwork representative of “the old days.” They endure plenty of old rivalries with other European Garou that challenged their borders, as well as the Uktena and Wendigo, who were their enemies during the European migration to the Americas. The Fianna try to be generous and forgiving where these rivalries are concerned, remembering but not making too much of it — an attitude their rivals rarely share.
Strong passions and a powerful social streak run deep within the tribe. Their mirth is powerful, their loves intense, and their despair deep and prone to increasing into Harano. Introverted Fianna are rare, and don’t earn much sympathy; their tribemates tend to harass them to “loosen up” and enjoy the raucous gatherings more. Metis have it much worse. Fianna tradition holds that a deformed body reflects a deformed spirit, and treat their metis cubs with great severity — metis never hold positions of real authority within the tribe. It’s sadly ironic, then, that the Fianna, with all their hot-running passion and love of the romantic, are particularly prone to sin with other Garou and create these luckless children.
The passionate, mercurial nature of the Fianna manifests itself even in their wolf-born. Fianna lupus take to art readily, though of course they prefer songs and howls above all. Some (both inside and outside the tribe) suspect that this commonality represents a dose of fae blood — there are plenty of old stories of the Fianna fighting alongside the sidhe lords of Faerie, and engaging in tragic romances with the Old Ones. In some ways, the Fianna consider themselves the guardians of Garou culture. They glorify the war every werewolf is born to fight, they sing tales of romance that stress the importance of clinging to one’s Kin, and they keep the stories of old victories and defeats. They leap into battle with exuberance, hoping to inspire their cousins to do the same. But even with no other tribe’s eyes upon them, the Fianna fight as ferociously as any Garou can.
Yet thanks to old rivalries and quick tempers, the Fianna can be a divisive presence as easily as a unifying influence. It’s hard for them to resist a particularly well-crafted taunt, or to shake hands with a rival who’s spoken ill of or mistreated Kin. Some Garou don’t take them seriously; others aren’t able to laugh off a Fianna’s bouts of temper so easily. It’s a good thing for the tribe that they’ve practiced the silver tongue as long as they have. Certainly whatever happens, the presence of a Fianna is prone to keep things lively and interesting.
Fianna Pure Breed manifests itself as shining red or black fur, and often surprisingly large Lupus form. Fianna often use Gifts to make their eyes glow green, and teach their cubs to howl with beautiful eloquence.
Kinfolk & TerritoryEdit
Although they always prefer places that remind them of “the old country,” such as rolling green hills and thick old-growth forests, Fianna can be found nearly anywhere their predominantly Celtic-descended Kinfolk have settled. Outside the British Isles, they are most common in Australia and New Zealand, Canada and the United States (particularly Appalachia). The Fianna are exceptionally protective of their Kinfolk — most of their bloody skirmishes with other tribes erupt over Kin issues. Most of their wolf Kin live in North America, save for a few hidden on protected European estates and parks.
Stag, who exemplifies the Fianna love of life. Stag’s brood largely comprises animal spirits such as Rabbit, Impala, the White Hart and the Hind, and some Naturae such as the Brook, Dawn and Grain.
The Fianna are a social tribe, and strong Social Traits are common among them. They encourage most members to at least dabble in Performance.
Initial Willpower: 3
Background Restrictions: No restrictions.
Black Furies: Best take them seriously, even the ones who see only half the picture. They’ll open a hole in you if they think you’re being patronizing.
Bone Gnawers: They know a lot about loyalty and friendship, especially in hard times. Good friends to have if you can earn their respect.
Children of Gaia: Good folks to have at any moot, even if it takes more effort to howl ‘em into a proper battle fury when the need’s there.
Get of Fenris: Berserks and murderers, addicted to the taste of blood. There’s the remnants of a tribe we could’ve called friends somewhere in there, but it was buried millennia ago.
Glass Walkers: Strange sense of beauty they’ve got, picking a stinking city over a stretch of cool wood. Probably got spiders a-spinning behind their eyeballs.
Red Talons: Strong and primal and all those things we’d adore if weren’t for the damned hatred of every person we love.
Shadow Lords: Smart and vicious and effective, but anyone who doesn’t respect his king on principle needs to be watched.
Silent Striders: Give me the chills, they do. You think you’re spinning a truly tragic tale, and they just look back at you as if to say “Is that it?”
Silver Fangs: We owe them our loyalty, and it’s a hard debt to pay sometimes.
Stargazers: We’re Garou. We need to burn out, not wither away!
Uktena: Shadow Lords for politics, Uktena for spirits and the Umbra — all this secret brokering makes me a little nervous.
Wendigo: Not all of our songs end well. The lay of us and the Wendigo isn’t over yet, but it’s been a tragic mess forever and might not get better in time.
“The blood of heroes is on fire within us! The ghosts of our ancestors swell with pride to see us stand strong and true! The Wyrm itself trembles when we howl! AAAAUURROOOOO!”
This category has only the following subcategory.
- [+] Tribe (1 C)