Our story begins in pre-historic North America, along the glaciated coastline of Lake Superior. From the snow-covered boreal forests to the north and the windswept prairies to the south, the inhospitable landscape is populated by tribes of shapeshifters. Bear-kin. Wolf-kin. Hawk-kin. And many more. They war for supremacy and survival, never settling long enough to establish stable societies.
In this world, magic is limited to shape-changing. Danger is everpresent, between the daily demands of subsistence and the constant threat of other clans. Daily life is a grim slog - respite only achieved through the mystical bonds of brother and sisterhood achieved by surmounting desperate odds.
(Think The Clan of the Cave Bear meets World of Darkness, Werewolf.)
The people of this prehistoric world are hopeful that the glaciers will recede and there can be peace among the clans, but generations of treachery, cannibalism, and desperation wear even the most trusting of natures thin.
The sun rises over the frigid waters of the great freshwater sea. It is early spring and the blue snowdrops are just beginning to push their way through the frost.
In this world, magic is limited to shape-changing. Danger is everpresent, between the daily demands of subsistence and the constant threat of other clans. Daily life is a grim slog - respite only achieved through the mystical bonds of brother and sisterhood achieved by surmounting desperate odds.
(Think The Clan of the Cave Bear meets World of Darkness, Werewolf.)
The people of this prehistoric world are hopeful that the glaciers will recede and there can be peace among the clans, but generations of treachery, cannibalism, and desperation wear even the most trusting of natures thin.
The sun rises over the frigid waters of the great freshwater sea. It is early spring and the blue snowdrops are just beginning to push their way through the frost.
