Werewolves perceive a spiritual counterpart to our own physical reality, a shadow-world of spirit in complement to the physical world in which they are born. Their prevailing origin story ties them inextricably to this spirit world, favored as they are by Gaia, the tremendously powerful mother-spirit of the earth — or perhaps “the world,” or even “the cosmos” — itself.

　The Garou know the spirit world that contains these forces and embodies this lens as the Umbra or the Spirit Wilds.

　Given its nature, the spirit world is a place that cannot definitively be known, and so, too do those who dwell within it have their own motives, not all of which are comprehensible by such creatures as werewolves. Indeed, the Garou themselves understand their worldview as part observed phenomenon, part vital legend, and part living metaphor. Gaia is not a singular, personified entity — except when she is. The Triat is a collection of forces the werewolves understand to be symbolic, except when the Garou are actively working against them. The Spirit Wilds are a place one goes, except when the notion of “place” cannot apply. One thing is certain, though: The Umbra is a vast reservoir of emotion, legend, and memory.

　Today’s hectic lives and distractions threaten to remove humans from the communication stem that connects all orders of creation and the manidoog (spirits) that are associated with them. Further, the Garou are themselves members of an animistic tradition, casting into sharp contrast the views of the human cultures in which they find themselves and the Garou perspective that informs their lives as werewolves.

　— Dr. Waabizii Benjamin, Silver Fang philodox

An Era of Apocalypse

　Werewolves are defined by their existence between two different worlds. As the chosen of Gaia, they are meant to move along the edges of the physical world and those of spirits’ domain, moving where they must to fulfill her will. Doing so enables werewolves to see how both worlds intersect and interact, and ultimately how they influence each other. However, during the era of the Apocalypse the Umbra often feels as if it were actively trying to expel them when they travel into it.

　In almost all of the Garou’s oral traditions, the spirit world was the place werewolves were able to connect best with Gaia, see what was happening to Earth, gain power and guidance through spirits, and contribute to the balance of the Triat. The Umbra is where Gaia’s voice may be heard most clearly, and it may have been the best place for werewolves to interpret her instruction to them.

　But that communication has been disrupted by Gaia’s Howl, a multisensory expression of her pain that’s most acutely discernible when a Garou travels to the Umbra. Whether experienced as a literal howl, a painful frisson physically felt while traversing the Gauntlet, intruding visions of Gaia in pain, or an alarming burst of taste or smell, Gaia lets her champions know that they have little time left. (See p. 224 for more information on Gaia’s Howl.)

　Whatever the spiritual truth, it’s undeniable that reaching the Umbra is now difficult, a trip performed only through mutual effort and amid strict formal observances.



Garou and the Umbra

　Garou may enter the Umbra for various reasons. Garou may pursue malignant spirits that possess thralls in the physical world into the Umbra, to destroy their threat permanently. They might seek the patronage of a mighty spirit who resides in a lair literally unreachable outside the Umbra. The pack may need to coax a spirit into protecting their caern by bringing a sacrifice to that spirit where it dwells. Or the Garou might become aware of great conflict or injustice happening in the Umbra first and see only later the extent of the situation causing it in the physical world.

　Needless to say, the Garou often find themselves in unfamiliar territory as they attempt to investigate the Umbra or bring Gaia’s justice to any particular region of it. Despite the many reasons werewolves might have to travel to or through the Spirit Wilds, it will forever be a source of wonder, strangeness, and danger to them, with occasional rare oases of otherworldly succor.

A Realm of Metaphor and Verity

　The cosmology of Werewolf, as with many of the components of its mythic nature, generates more questions than it does answers. (That’s good! Conflict and stories emerge from such questions.) The Garou have a traditional, tribal society, strong on oral histories, legends, and personal interpretations of phenomena somewhat outside their perception. As such, their understanding of their cosmology is driven by personal relationships, wisdom, and intuition. It is not the subject of precise methodologies, scientific certainty, or wholly reliable states of being.

　Consider the Wyrm, for example, enemy to Garou at large since time out of mind. Werewolves can be confident — and even correct — in their understanding of their place, with one foot in the spirit world and the other in the material, but no werewolf go could before an infallible cosmological authority and say, “See? The Wyrm is definitively evil.” Reality needs the forces the Wyrm represents — but few would argue that the Wyrm acts in an appropriate way during the time of the Apocalypse.

　Remember, werewolves and their understanding of the cosmology are but a single lens providing a limited perspective on an inherently innominate truth.



No Universal Truth

　The questing mysteries of the spirit world are foundational and existential for the Garou. For example:

• The spiritual cosmology by which the Garou understand the universe is a source of mystery — some tales attribute the creation of werewolves to Gaia, for example, whereas other legends make Luna their mother.

• Is Gaia “the Earth”? Or a greater cosmological collective of physical and spiritual bodies?

• What is the relationship of Gaia to the Triat? Did she birth them? Are they “siblings”? Did they give rise to her? Are they unrelated in origin but intertwined in their course of action?

• Note that Gaia is traditionally a “she,” whereas the Triat are ungendered forces of nature (that may occasionally possess or be expressed as gendered characteristics, but they largely go anthropomorphized). How did this understanding come to be?

　All of these questions and others are sure to arise during Werewolf stories, and both players and Storytellers should embrace them. Differences that arise help paint a World of Darkness in which the Garou aren’t a monoculture, and in which the greatest mysteries of the universe cannot be untangled, despite all of the fury and insight werewolves bring to bear. As even the wisest theurges grant, some questions have no single answer.

打开影界的叙事钥匙

• 没有一种能真正理解影界的方法——影界本身既是一种感知，也是一种感知方式，本质上并不真实

• 即使是迦鲁自己也无法就影界中感知到的事物的含义达成一致，但他们知道，影界总在一定程度上由感知者塑造

• 无法绘制影界的地图，每次进入它时都必须重新解密，而且它的变化既受物质界的影响，也受自身奇异流向的改动

A Cosmological Map

　The word Umbra itself suggests a shadow, and the way Garou perceive it, the Spirit Wilds exist as a shadow to the physical world. Of course, in certain situations, a shadow can appear even more voluminous than the object casting it, which is exactly the case with the Umbra.




The Light of Thought and Emotion

　In considering the animistic role of the Umbra, it may help to use a metaphor. If the physical world is an object, and the Umbra is its shadow, what’s causing the illumination that results in the shadow? The truth is that no one knows.

　The metaphor, however, is that the experiences of thinking, feeling creatures create the “light” that makes the shadow cast by the physical world.

　Note, too, that these thinking, feeling creatures don’t have to be humans, Garou, or other supernatural creatures. They might be animals, for example, or perhaps even spirits themselves (though this last is the subject of much contention among werewolves in general and theurges in particular).

　Thus, in the terms of the metaphor, if something exists that no one thinks about or has any emotional investment in, it probably has no shadow, reflection, or other counterpart in the Umbra. That said, some powerful ideas linger long after anyone last gave them a thought. In the Spirit Wilds, old gods die hard.



The Shadow Next Door

　The area of the Umbra most proximate to the physical world has the greatest resemblance to that physical counterpart. It’s also the most frequent spiritual destination of all Garou, and it provides their first taste of the wonders that lie beyond reality. Just as the physical world is made of physical matter, the spirit world is made of spiritual matter — what some Garou call ephemera. (Note that “proximate,” “nearest,” and the like here refer to concepts, not necessarily to physical distance. Physical distance may not have any bearing on how the Umbra appears in any given place.)

　This close to the physical world, a street still looks like a street, and a park looks like a park, but objects without spiritual energy appear translucent, impermanent, or entirely absent. New buildings and recent construction have almost no spiritual resonance, whereas living vegetation and more storied buildings appear vibrant and real.

　Areas of true spiritual significance stand out and warp their surroundings: A factory spawning dangerous chemical waste may cast the Umbral sky in gloom and rot the spiritual city around it, serving as a lair for malignant spirits. A thriving community in a beloved neighborhood may scintillate with vibrant color and sound, a joyous cacophony, enriched by the spiritual imprints of past occupants, sheltered by trees growing to many times their material height and spreading their branches welcomingly toward the sky. Such an area surely attracts appropriate spirits — and its seemingly endless energy may tempt other spirits to befoul it.

　The nearest regions of the Umbra feel somehow closer to the physical world than do greater depths, as such time and distance are — mostly — analogous to their material equivalents. Exit the near-shadow of the Umbra in a location, and you (probably) appear roughly in its physical analogue, though the strength of the Gauntlet plays a large part in whether one ends up in the general vicinity of one’s destination, or exactly in the place one tried to avoid. More than one pack has learned — the hard, final way — that the Umbra is no reliable backdoor to the den of one’s enemies.




Stranger Depths

　Locational terminology rapidly becomes inadequate in describing the Umbra, particularly as one ventures further “into” it. Three-dimensional space and even the concept of time distort as one moves toward these metaphysical singularities or points of unknown analysis. Plainly put, things get weird fast in the Spirit Wilds as one moves away from cosmological proximity to the physical world.

　These strange depths seem to conform to the same sorts of cause-and-effect intimated by the shadow-and-reflection theory. Even the most bizarre, picturesque, or hellish Umbral weirdscape exists because someone or something cared enough to create the — resonance? dream? desire? thought? — that willed it into being.

　Various tribes and auspices have different words for these phenomena, and even words such as “region” become inadequate to describe what a pack might encounter as it plumbs the mysteries of the Spirit Wilds. Everything — from familiar concepts like a vast, unending, primordial forest that harks to the halcyon days of the Garou, to dense and psychedelic metaphors like infinitely running across an enormous, seemingly female face while tiny moons and stars pursue the runners — is possible there… and then some.

　And for this reason, despite having some understanding of the Umbra, Garou never feel wholly safe there, can never truly understand it all. They may have an arguable claim to part of it as creatures partially of spirit, but the shadow-world always possesses the ability to startle and disorient and terrify the Garou.

The Triat

　An ecology of cosmological forces, a cycle of existence, a functioning model of reality.

　The Triat consists of three spiritual forces, or three spiritual ends, or functions. These forces do not themselves have will, and they aren’t spirits in the traditional sense; Garou know better than to anthropomorphize them. However, the myriad spirits of the Umbra often operate in service to one of these forces, or to advance the objectives associated with these forces.

• The Wyld: A spiritual force of creation, change, and chaos

• The Weaver: A spiritual force of order, structure, and stasis

• The Wyrm: A spiritual force of consumption, decay, and entropy

　Many Garou regard the Triat as demiurgical, perhaps, or progenitor-energies, or arguably even the apex of reality. No matter their current state, Triatic forces are limited only by their own primordial function, and usually they have at least some influence over all spirits, if only by proximity or interaction. That isn’t to suggest they boss other spirits around like some capricious aristocrat, giving orders to lesser drones. One might not even know one is seeing the presence of Triat, assuming such a thing can even happen; the influence of the Triat is more likely to be felt or intuited than observed while it’s happening. The Triat’s movements evidence themselves via desire and aftermath, largely as a matter of interpretation.

　Below these forces are a grand array of lesser spirits each with its own role, and each aware of its place in the hierarchies of the Umbra. They can range from god-like entities embodying the power of a planet to mindless things incapable of perceiving the world beyond the narrow purpose for which they were spawned.

　As noted above, the Triat is itself malfunctioning, with the Wyrm ascendant. In contrast with the spirits pledged to the service of the Wyrm or Weaver, or forced into such a role, servitors of the Wyld fulfill roles more traditionally in keeping with the original balance of the Triat. Garou frequently find these other spirits acting according to the letter of their original purpose, despite the fact that the intent of their governing forces have greatly changed in the era of Apocalypse. Indeed, the Wyld seems to be waning, hemmed in by the Weaver and destroyed by the Wyrm. Then again, some Garou argue that the Wyld remains the only fully functional aspect of the Triat, operating according to its original purpose, with the other two forces dangerously “overclocked.”

　For more information on the hierarchy of spirits, see p. 224. Examples of servitors in each force’s spiritual domain can be found in Chapter 9: Antagonists.

编年史中的影界

　编年史中的影界包罗万象。

• 它是玩家角色和叙事人角色都可以利用的工具

• 它是故事的背景地点，反映了迦鲁对世界的独特看法

• 它还是一种强化迦鲁作为灵性生物本质的主题设置——除魂怒之外

　当玩家角色进入影界时，他们应立即产生一种双重感。这是一个拥有强大力量的地方，迦鲁可以使用它的空间、灵赋和奇迹。它同时也是一个可怕的未知之地，即使是半灵的迦鲁，实际上也是这个世界的闯入者，它只接纳他们的一部分，而又排斥一部分，因为他们要了解这个世界的真相就会让自己的头脑崩溃。这很像大海，对于人类来说，大海是神秘甚至浪漫的，因为他们看不到深海中游动着的深渊巨怪，而它会把他们整个人无声无息地吞没。但影界与浩瀚深海不同，它不受陆地地理的限制。

　因此，只要叙事人愿意，影界在任何特定故事或编年史中的作用可大可小。这是一个滑动的尺度，没有“正确”的比例。许多《狼人》编年史都侧重于物质界中末日的迫在眉睫；许多《狼人》编年史偶尔使影界作为背景，以对比人类现实与狼人灵性层面的差异；许多《狼人》编年史也都在影界发生了重大事件，让迦鲁对抗灵性敌人，并在追求建立自身传奇的过程中寻求一些重要的灵性联盟。

　对于剧团想要讲述的故事类型来说，影界的重要性不言而喻。考虑用编年史原则（请看第199页）和其它游戏系统以及叙事情节来加强这种灵活性。

Encountering the Umbra

　The parts of the spirit world that “touch upon” the physical world are the most tangible, in the sense that supernatural creatures may find reflections of the physical realm swimming within its depths. Beyond this point, however, the spirit world becomes increasingly different, covering possibilities unknown and known, potential and actualized. Things bend, transform, and push against constraints, such that in some areas of the spirit world, even the idea of rules or laws becomes mutable.

　At times, the Umbra is Earth’s shadow, the strange and oftentimes incomprehensible reflection of the physical realm. But it is also a place that exists beyond the solid certainties of reality, with its own conventions, logic, and rules.

　Although it may be traversed, the Umbra does not conform to the idea of geography. Or, rather, the geography of the Umbra is mutable, impermanent, and reliant upon the spiritual and emotional significance of what appears there at any given time. It all depends.



A Changing Spiritscape

　Contrast often characterizes places in the Umbra, with a virgin glade abutting the site of a toxic chemical spill, a host of inscrutable spirits going about their business between them. Time and even permanence are unreliable in the Spirit Wilds — an idyllic field of heather may occupy a specific spiritual location for (earthly) millennia, only to be replaced by a tropical grove that blooms seemingly out of nothingness, and is then reclaimed by the heather field and instant later. Almost inevitably, something caused this flux, but it’s not always evident what, especially to the Garou, who are not themselves natives of the Umbra. This example also reinforces the interrelationship between the physical and spirit worlds: Nurturing the physical world often results in a strong spiritual complement, whereas defiling the physical world ruptures that spiritual co-location.



Spiritual Reflections

　Take for instance the spiritual reflection of an office building. In the physical world, on the whole, it has few surprises. It’s, well, an office building, a place where numerous people go every day to perform business-related tasks.

　In the Umbra, however, an office building may appear in a number of ways.

• The office building may be literally absent in the Umbra. This lack of correspondence isn’t necessarily bad, it just indicates that no one involved with the building’s business has much personal will invested in it. In fact, something more important (from a spiritual resonance perspective) might occupy the same space that the office building does in the real world, or it may be simply unfilled space indistinguishable from the rest of how the Umbra appears in that spiritual region.

• The office building may appear blocky and sterile, like a cork cell viewed through a microscope, with only the least of spirits moving within it, if at all. In this case, the office building’s Umbra presence suggests a lack of emotional resonance from anyone involved with it — a soulless place.


• The office building may appear as a towering monolith, with jagged accretions of calcification where walls meet floors and ceilings, all rigidly bound by tensile strands of spider-spirit webbing. An antiseptic smell pervades. In this case, the office building’s Umbra presence represents a relentless enforcement of order, the imposition of the Weaver’s influence on whatever the business of the office building is.

• The office building may appear wreathed in hazy spiritual flames of bright green, purple, and orange-red color. A susurrus, as of a multitude of people talking, is inescapable there. In this case, the office building’s Umbra presence reflects a passionate state of affairs within, perhaps as a hostile corporate takeover is occurring, or as a number of opportunistic executives vigorously attempt to force business in a direction favorable to them.

• The office building may appear to be a veritable charnel house, an ever-collapsing edifice of decay that nonetheless rebuilds itself from material voluminously issuing forth from a wellspring of spiritual energy at its center — with that spiritual energy turning gray and foul moments after its eruption. A cloying reek, the sweet smell of death, practically nauseates those who go there. In this case, the office building’s Umbral presence reflects the spiritual purpose of the business it houses, the exploitation and eventual exhaustion of some precious natural resource.

影界机制

　与影界互动的规则刻意采用了印象主义的方式，以便叙事人能根据特定场景的需要，以字面或隐喻的方式使用它。总的来说，虽然狼人熟悉影界，但他们不应绝对信任它。在一个空间适用的东西可能在另一个并不适用，在这里能让你活命的东西在那里可能会让你送命。

　不过，几乎普遍的一点是，逗留总要付出代价。影界是一个危险地方，而人类的恶臭——构成迦鲁的一半——会引来好奇、憎恨甚至具有攻击性的精魂，并驱赶其它正常的精魂。某些地方可能看起来比较平静，但会消耗闯入者的魂怒或健康值。而且总有迷路的危险，因为导航可能需要进行神秘学特质或智慧声望测试，而非生存或街头智慧特质测试。

　使用暗影通道仪式可让迦鲁狼群进出影界。除非另有说明，否则灵赋和仪式的作用同在物质界中时，而赫利俄斯和露娜分别与日月同时升起（不过在险棘的影界一侧，后者要比前者耀眼）。

　迦鲁在影界无需吃喝，而是靠纯粹的意志力维持灵质形态。除其它危险外，在头个场景后于影界中度过的每个场景都需花1意志点，否则迦鲁就会因身体开始枯萎和凋零受1级恶性健康伤害。以这种方式死亡的狼人有时会变成饿殍（请看第283页）。

谁在外面？

　一些非迦鲁的灵媒、秘术师和其它超自然生物可能已开发出了他们自己的、更加深奥的进入影界的方法。有些人在梦中前往灵界，完全绕过了险棘。其他则依靠精魂为他们打开缺口。一些优秀的人类神秘学者将他们的精神投射到灵界，而肉身又留在现实；妖蛆仆从则可能会使用黑暗仪式或残忍工具来在险棘最厚时撕开它。狼群在旅途中很可能会遇到这样的人，而这也可能是刚刚变形的狼人与潜伏在灵界黑暗空间中的各种生物的第一次会面。

　不过，这些闯入影界者几乎在所有情况下感知到的东西都与迦鲁不同。他们都可以描述自己在“灵界”的经历，但影界作为一种视角、一种现象甚至一个地方，则是狼人独有的。

Entering the Umbra

　The Garou are creatures of both flesh and spirit, and they possess the ability to travel between the two worlds. Every Garou is capable of making this crossing, but the knowledge of how to do so is not inherent.

　Most Garou learn from a mentor sometime after their First Change, and they learn to do it via Rites passed down from that mentor’s mentor, and so on. Others learn through congress with spirits, who impart the ways of salient Rites. Some wretched werewolves — those without someone to introduce them to Garou ways after the First Change, or those who never learn the truth of what they are — never learn the ability to move between worlds. They may be haunted by barely audible voices or things seemingly sighted just beyond the edges of their perception, and surely they lead lives of torment and incompleteness.

　The Garou practice of moving from the physical world into the Umbra or vice versa is sometimes called “stepping sideways.” See p. 182 for information on the Rite of Shadow Passage, used to enter the Umbra.




Stepping Sideways

　In most cases, stepping sideways involves performing Rite requirements and willing oneself through the Gauntlet, the barrier between worlds. This process can be difficult, and in the times of the Apocalypse, it cannot be taken for granted, despite some Garou’s remembrances of times past.

　Stepping sideways is more easily done as a pack, or at least with the accompaniment of other Garou. Theurges myriad reasons for this stricture, from the idea of a collective spiritual mass applying more pressure to the Gauntlet and thus forcing it to yield more readily, to a stronger expression of cumulative will being the dominant reality. As with many metaphysical concepts, it’s imprecisely understood; as with many Garou concerns, it’s better handled as a pack.

　Caerns often facilitate stepping sideways, as the Gauntlet is usually less rigid at a nurtured caern. Still, exceptions occur, as a caern may have been neglected or abused, or might otherwise be in a location that is out of attunement with the Umbra. The spirit guardian may have gone dormant or fled, or the place itself may have been wholly forgotten by Garou, for example. In this era of Apocalypse, with antagonistic werewolves seeking the same sites of power, or packs simply meeting untimely ends, caerns have changed stewardship or vanished from the Garou consciousness faster than at any other time in history. And so, more and more points of ingress to the Umbra have become hostile or inert. For more information on caerns, see p. 190.






The Gauntlet: Barrier Between Worlds

　Separating the physical world from the spirit world is the Gauntlet, variously described as anything from an invisible metaphysical force to a tangible membrane, depending on where the individual encounters the barrier. In this era of Apocalypse, the Gauntlet has become rigid and even impermeable in some places — a stark separation between the physical world and the Umbra. These days, crossing the Gauntlet and entering the Umbra requires great personal and spiritual sacrifice, the observation of ritual behavior, and often the participation of one’s entire pack. Alternatively, access may occur at a place in the world where the boundary is consistently weak or porous, as with a caern.

　Note that the inverse does not seem to be true. Moving from the spirit world into the physical world is still doable, and many sites of blight in the world are actually manifestations of spirit-energy (or even hostile spirits themselves, in search of physical hosts to possess) emerging from the Umbra. Such spiritual blight is a sort of self-fulfilling prophecy: Something causes the desolation, the entropic imbalance in its wake furthers the desolation, and a sick-get-sicker effect occurs as fouled environments grow more and more toxic.

　I can tell you why the Gauntlet’s harder to cross now than ever before. It’s the Weaver. Pattern Spiders are sewing up the thin patches that side of the Spirit Wilds. You think it’s bad now, it’s gonna get worse. Weaver’s gonna have it sealed up so tight, the spirit world is going to peel off the physical world like an old scab. And probably dry up and crumble away like an old scab, too.

　— Rocky Two-Tongues, Bone Gnawer philodox

Traversing the Umbra

　Sometimes Horned Serpent will illuminate you with favor! Sometimes Horned Serpent will send you plunging off a cliff.

　— Natalia Barkingman, Ghost Council ragabash

　The Umbra is vast and ever-changing, at times guiding those who travel its myriad paths, at times confounding them. Werewolves in the Spirit Wilds find mystery, horror, and even fascination, but finding what they’re looking for and surviving their travels are more difficult.

　Traversing the Umbra is itself an exercise in mystery and conviction. In some spirit-spaces, one’s sense of place is effectively one-to-one with the physical world. One takes a step, and one has traveled a step. This is — probably — true for the vast majority of the Umbra.

　The nuance of the matter, though, is that the Umbra isn’t built to be traversed, step-by-step, in the manner of the material world. Its native denizens are themselves creatures of spirit, who don’t necessarily even “walk.” They may float through the spiritual atmosphere, or think themselves to their desired location, or enter the spiritual shadow of one body of water and emerge from a different, unconnected body of water without consideration for how they spatially “got there.” In the deepest and bleakest corners of nightmare, hating or devouring might be that region’s horrific methods of locomotion, or movement might result from them. As ever, the Garou understanding of what and why is incomplete.

　Knowing how to navigate the Umbra is important and an early skill set Garou must learn. Some of these lessons include:

• Navigation by analogy is more reliable than navigation by Umbral geography. Following webs and rigid patterns may lead to a Weaver-servitor the pack seeks, whereas following symbolic manifestations associated with a particular spirit may bring the pack into their presence. Follow the sequence of broken walls to find Gorgon; listen for the laughter of the tumbling water to find the river-spirit.

• Spirits know the regions in which they dwell. Talking to them is an important tool for navigating the region, but spirits often demand payment for their assistance. The nature of such payment varies, but it can include seekings, sacrifices, performances, acts of obedience, or trinkets. Traditionally, this spirit recompense is known to the Garou as chiminage, but fewer and fewer young werewolves are familiar with this seemingly archaic term.

• Travelers often leave spirit-trails as they move through the spirit world. Trained Garou and local spirits can follow and interpret these paths, learning something about the being responsible in the process. Many spirit-realm denizens know how to occlude such trails or disguise them, however.

精魂的真实

　迦鲁经常受他们所生活的凡人文化的影响，这可能会塑造他们与灵界关系上的观念。当涉及到个别精魂——尤其是强大如守护精魂或类似精魂时——迦鲁如何解释与这些精魂的互动，可能会在他们最认可的文化背景下发生。当然，这种一致并不总是发生。精魂往往有能力决定他人对自己的看法，他们居住的影界是一个宏伟谜团——但许多迦鲁发现，熟悉的背景有助于他们理解世界的本来面目。

　因此，举例来说，拥有美洲原住民背景的幽灵议会迦鲁与生活在斯堪的纳维亚、伊朗或北非人类文化背景下的幽灵议会迦鲁对角蛇的感知可能会有所不同。通过迦鲁的视角，它们都是真实的，它们都是“那位”角蛇——即使它们实际都是不同的。同样的道理也适用于戈尔贡，对其的普遍解释明显是希腊式的... 甚至是未定型的芬里斯...

与精魂交流

　精魂通过各种方式进行交流。有的用谜语，有的用气味，有的用记忆，不一而足。有的会将概念投射到他人脑海中；有的会将月光阵列显示为情感，或在空气中刻画符文。但大多数都能“说话”，或至少能与迦鲁口头交流——若它们选择如此。即使是两个不同的同类精魂，它们的交流方式也可能大相径庭——例如，一个瘟疫忌灵可能会用喘息、喷溅的讥笑说话，而另一个则通过吞咽病菌和污物来交流。

　不过，仅仅与精魂对话并不能控制或影响它们，尽管与它们的互动与同实体个体的一样受属性+技能骰的制约。同样，某些灵赋或仪式可迫使精魂采取行动或限制它们传递的信息类型。

　叙事人，我们鼓励你使用不同的交流方式，既可作为与精魂相遇时的感官细节，也可预示事件、提供线索和区分不同精魂。

Spirits

　It stands to reason that if the Umbra is a spiritual reflection of the world, it must be populated by some number of spirits. Given the animistic perspective of the Garou, these spirits are the thinking, feeling consciousness associated with places, individuals, animals, and even more esoteric concepts. Potentially anything can have an animating spirit, and therefore be spiritually “personified” in the Umbra, so long as someone, somewhere, thinks or feels about it (or thought or felt about it). At least, that’s the prevailing Garou perspective. Wise theurges and savvy philodoxes know that there are other things and people out there with their own takes on the metaphysics of the world and what surrounds it — and how fearsomely different they are from the lens through which werewolves see reality.



Who Spirits Are

　Returning briefly to the metaphor of the light of thought and emotion (see p. 225), a spirit may emerge from anything that provokes thought or feeling. Which is to say, anything and everything might have an active spirit, from the specific to the ideal, from the lofty to the commonplace to the most cruel or incomprehensible.

　For example, the spirit of a river might move through the Umbral reflection of that river at the same time a mighty Incarna, the spirit of water itself, courses through that same ephemeral river.

　Every spirit is a thinking entity. They may be simple and straightforward, they may be cunning, or their minds might be wholly alien to creatures of more understandable mindset like the Garou. Ultimately, what this means is that every spirit has wants and needs.





Hierarchy of Spirits

　Individual spirits organize into their own cohorts, possess influence over their own domains, and behave according to their own laws. Some spirits are meant to be respected; others, feared. Still others work with the Garou to protect Gaia. However, many more possess their own agendas and motivations — things werewolves must recognize, and work around, to fulfill their own duty.

　Not to say that all spirits are equal entities — far from it. Spirits take a variety of forms, from the merest moonlight-spirit circling a caern so that its guardians can better keep watch to — presumably — the great and terrible spirits that possess a power unto existence itself, and whose very bailiwick is creation, order, and decay….

　Spirits observe a hierarchy, which itself evolves from a complicated interaction of might, duty, and obligation. Every spirit has a purpose — something to which it attends — and these roles themselves might be simple, complex, or even inscrutable, as with the greater movements of the tribes’ Patron Spirits, spirits associated with forces of nature and esoteric phenomena, and Gaia herself.

　Understanding such purposes often eludes the Garou, and clever theurges spend their lives understanding why spirits behave as they do, in addition to how they might be persuaded to help Gaia’s fallen champions atone for the failures of their kind. That, and how to elude or assuage bellicose spirits who seem to feel no duty to Gaia or those in her service.

　Whereas the hierarchy of spirits is natural to them, it is less so to Garou, and probably imperceptible to anyone not native to the Umbra. Werewolf theurges and galliards have struggled to name and classify this hierarchy since time immemorial, but they generally agree upon rough classifications for it — which is important! The spirits themselves probably don’t understand the hierarchy the same way the Garou — themselves outsiders in that hierarchy — do. This hierarchy is simply what werewolves have been able to observe in their dealing with spirits since the time of legends.

　The current system stratifies spirits into four categories based on their role and importance in the cosmic order.



Celestines

　Although not the cornerstones of reality that the Triat constitutes, Celestines are still impossibly ancient beings of vast spiritual influence in the Umbra. Among their numbers are the spirits of celestial bodies, the fading echoes of forgotten gods, and the most powerful servants of the Triat. No matter their nature, each is free-willed, self-aware, and highly intelligent. Some speak. Some communicate in other ways, when they deign to do so. Others simply are.

　As such, interaction with Celestines is exceedingly rare and enigmatic, if it can be remembered and truly understood at all. They dwell in Umbral territories of their own creation, where they are one with everything therein, present in every aspect. Their lairs and power make direct communication with them, even by legendary Garou, impossible, and so when a Celestine must act it seemingly does so through an avatar. These avatars are aspects of a Celestine, wreathed in a guise that lesser beings might understand and interact with. Although mere shards of a Celestine’s power, avatars are still among the most powerful beings in the Spirit Wilds.

　Theurges believe that Celestines might be capable of manifesting multiple avatars at once, though they probably do so only sparingly. Avatars rarely manifest in the physical world, and even more rarely intervene in ongoing events. Such occurrences are momentous occasions, even to the spiritually aware Garou, so the appearance of a suspected avatar carries the weight of omen. Seers, spirit-talkers, and other sorts of diviners seek their messages via star-watching, omen-casting, and even coaxing the techno-spirits of computer systems.

　As Garou understand it, a Celestine’s power comes with risk. Should Celestines die, the objects they embody would surely die with them! The sun, the moon, or the planets could crumble. Water could evaporate; fire could fail to ignite. Tribal wisdom is rife with stories of clever werewolves stealing something from a Celestine’s lair, only for the spirit to beg the werewolves for it later, lest they vanish from the world and take with them sunlight, or flora, or the ability to write.

　Entities believed by the Garou to be Celestines include Gaia, the spirit of the Earth; Luna, the spirit of the Moon; and Helios, the spirit of the Sun.

What they might want: The nethermost strand of the Weaver’s web, every thought of autumn, a kiss from Gaia’s lips, the depths of the sea, redemption

IN STORIES

　Celestines don’t take direct, personal action; it’s probably incorrect to think of them as “people” in the context that most Garou have. If the players’ characters interact with a Celestine, it’s almost certainly through an avatar or servitor-spirit pursuing that Celestine’s goals on an individual level (which means they’re some form of lesser spirit). Celestines help give context to the story on a thematic level, or perhaps charge the pack (through intermediary spirits) with some sort of legendary oath. Often what they desire is metaphorical, as might be the actions the pack may take in their name — those exceedingly rare packs in which a Celestine takes an interest, of course.

• During a particularly strange jaunt into the depths of the Umbra, the pack may find itself walking across the face of an enormous, slumbering humanoid consciousness, occasionally beset by flying spirit-books representing the entity’s thoughts and localized Umbral storms representing their emotions.

• One of the tribe’s Patron Spirits (see Incarnae, below) has greatly offended a Celestine, and Gifts and Rites associated with that Patron Spirit won’t work until every member of the tribe makes a particular and difficult sacrifice to earn their patron an audience of atonement with the aggrieved great spirit.



Incarnae

　The Incarnae occupy the tier in the hierarchy immediately below the Celestines. Many of these spirits act as servants, champions, and advisors to their numinous superiors, and Incarnae may even derive their power from these relationships. Others simply willed themselves (or were willed) into being, or some other spiritual parthenogenesis resulted in their existence.

　Each Incarna has a specific purpose and a sphere of influence in which they can assert their powers and largely interact with reality through avatars. Albeit lesser than an avatar of a Celestine, an Incarna’s avatar is still a powerful force — probably greater than any pack of Garou could hope to best directly — so diplomacy and the spirit-ways of chiminage are most effective with them. Many Incarnae are… ambitious, if that’s the right word, believe that their place in the hierarchy is merely an intermediary step, and that, eventually, they shall ascend to join the ranks of the Celestines.

　Incarnae are probably the most powerful spirits a werewolf is likely to interact with directly. Among their number are the Garou Patron Spirits, who may send avatars to communicate with those whom they favor. Such a visitation ideally provides guidance, spiritual blessings, and tutelage, but is just as likely to provide a humbling lesson to a wayward individual, or to utterly torment one who has broken faith.

　Apart from the Patron Spirits, Incarnae generally “own” some specific portfolio or concept. A specific great mountain or timeless forest might have its own Incarna, for example, or the Incarna may represent a particularly virulent disease or even one specific nightmare experienced by any number of human dreamers.

　Entities recognized as Incarnae by the Garou include the Patron Spirits of each tribe; the spirit of wilderness and predatory birds; Old Man Sea, the spirit of the coast and seafarers; and the Wyrm-spirit of unnatural rot.

What they might want: A rival’s champion’s dying breath, a scale stolen from one of the Wyrm’s hellish lairs, the wind that carries the name of their bygone paramour, black fire, three feathers

IN STORIES

　As do Celestines, Incarnae deal only rarely with Garou in any direct way, the occasional exception being the Patron Spirit of a werewolf’s tribe making its desires known to the tribe’s members. And even so, such interaction is often the duty of a messenger-spirit; Incarnae are busy fostering creation, sculpting a territory in the Spirit Wilds in their image, or fighting off the sluggishness of an epochal “slumber.” Even if the Garou might have an inkling of what an Incarna wants, it’s probably impossible to figure out why, unless the spirit is so alien that it is, in fact, wholly direct, and communicates with them in forthright urges and motives.


• A Patron Spirit has taken particular interest in a member of its tribe and charges them with a spiritual calling, promising them momentous Renown if they can bring back what the spirit wants… without being witnessed while collecting it.

• An Incarna who serves a critical purpose — holding a rampaging terror imprisoned, suspending the sky above the mountaintops, keeping the river pure — has gone silent. In response, distraught spirit-speakers come to the Garou. How does the pack discover more information about this potent spirit, let alone help solve the problem? What does it even look like in the physical world?


Jagglings

　The tier of the hierarchy for jagglings consists of spirits that are members of some greater cohort, such as dedicated servitors to Incarnae or Celestines, or minions of the Triat. This rank is perhaps the broadest in terms of the capacity of the spirits within it, including everything from task-oriented functionaries to independent spirits as complex as any human or Garou — and then some. A jaggling might serve as factotum to mighty Falcon, or a jaggling might ward a rundown caern in Montreal or a forgotten caern in the shadow of Petra.

　Many jagglings fulfill whatever directives their creator imposed upon them and serve loyally as a result, though some develop or earn free will during the course of their service. By contrast, free-willed jagglings may develop in the dawn-lighted byways and hidden corners of the Spirit Wilds, especially ones of more esoteric purpose. Jagglings are ubiquitous, and they thrive where the attention of greater things rarely falls.

　Whereas each Incarna or Celestine is a unique being, defining the object or subject it embodies, jagglings exist in broad types roughly analogous to the species of physical creatures. Two platypus-spirits may act differently, but their place in the celestial hierarchy and their spiritual physiology are roughly the same. Two river-spirits might “embody” a mighty and a humble river, respectively, but they’re both jagglings. Jagglings, among all spirits, are the ones werewolves are perhaps most, and most frequently, familiar with. The animal-spirits that teach Garou gifts, the Banes whose cruel possessions they fight, and the ancestor-spirits that inhabit their caerns are all of this class.

　Entities recognized as jagglings by Garou include caern guardians, with which packs form protective agreements at places of power; idealized animal-spirits, the “template” forms of earthly animals; spider-like weaver-spirits of nuclear energy; and Nexus Crawlers, Wyrm-aspected behemoths that distort and ruin everything in their path.

What they might want: Revenge, assistance when their immediate task becomes daunting, a looking glass broken into a hundred shards, a human partner to bear their fleshbound child

IN STORIES

　Interactions between jagglings and Garou are probably the most common and significant ones to occur among all such encounters in which entities of the spirit hierarchy participate. That is, they’re more frequent and understandable than enigmatic encounters with greater spirits or missives from same, and there’s more of an aware, sentient exchange possible with jagglings than with the more minimal consciousness of the gafflings, below. It’s not quite accurate to say that jagglings are “like people,” however. They can certainly be as complex as humans, but the way they perceive the world, their desires, and attitudes are as wholly other as any creature’s that dwells in the Umbra. Which is to say, even in their categories, jagglings are individuals and need to be figured out as Garou have dealings with them.

• The dormant spirit of a caern the players’ characters rediscover tests them with three increasingly difficult challenges, and if they can successfully complete them, the jaggling will help them rejuvenate the neglected place of power

• A jaggling once had a relationship with another spirit over the mountain and under the shadow, but since then the spirit has been tasked with making sure the tide flows in and flows out according to the wishes of the Vast Sea. The spirit would very much appreciate the pack passing a message to their erstwhile consort… and bringing back word of how the werewolves fared.

• The pack encounters a possessed human in the physical world, and probably immediately assumes that the spirit is an aggressive Bane. It’s not, however, and figuring out why the spirit is possessing its host is the first step in figuring out what’s going on.


Gafflings

　At the bottom of the spiritual hierarchy, below the most meager of jagglings, are the gafflings. These spirits are barely sentient servants of jagglings and are seemingly viewed by spirits in the way that humans view animals. They are capable of surviving in the spiritual realms where they were brought into existence, but often little else. Such spirits are often bound by restrictive pacts with other spirits (often to the gaffling’s disadvantage…), but some gafflings emerge from strange circumstances or very specific events, such as a gaffling representing one individual thought, or a gaffling that exists as a result of the torment of one hungry pack of wolves.

　Few gafflings develop any noteworthy intelligence, and fewer still possess free will or even much self-awareness. The ones that can speak don’t seem to consider themselves as part of a greater world or cosmology; rather, an extension of some purpose they don’t understand, and in fact they seem more comfortable when directed or even wielded by others. This subservience gives them a reputation for utter loyalty, as the idea of betraying their master when given the opportunity makes no more sense to them than a finger attempting to strangle its hand.

　Entities recognized by the Garou as gafflings include self-aware puzzles that wander the Umbra, certain spirits hunted in sacred rites, and the seemingly endless Wyrm-spirits of pollution that blight the unfortunate Umbral regions adjacent to environmental disasters.

What they might want: A burnt offering, appreciation, fresh kill, a song, the end of all life in their proximity

IN STORIES

　A gaffling is almost never the most powerful spirit a Garou pack might encounter during a story, but that doesn’t mean they shouldn’t be significant. Like any other element of the Spirit Wilds, gafflings are simply different in their outlook, and with a focus that highlights their stark contrast with werewolves from the physical world. Then again, their simple roles mean that they can also emphasize just how many spirits there are in the Umbra, and how minute their functions can be. It all depends on how the Garou need to relate to them.

• A gaffling performs some rote task over and over where the Garou discover it. No surprises there, but what’s odd is why the gaffling fulfills its duty here. Why is this flame spirit circling ever closer to that grove of Umbral trees? Why is the disease-spirit flitting toward the Umbral counterpart of the refugee camp in the physical world? Why is the horde of spirit-mice charging toward Owl’s demesne?

• A mischievous gaffling offers to teach one of the Garou a Gift that far exceeds its own power to fulfill.

• A minor moon-spirit beckons the pack, seemingly in service to Luna herself, but the packmates wise to the spirit-ways notice that the spirit is acting erratically for its kind, and it seems to be leading them into a part of the Umbra that… shouldn’t be there — and a moment later, everything seems fine….

• While in a desperate hurry, the players’ characters discover a gaffling standing guard over a hidden pathway that would give them both advantages of time and strategy — but the gaffling absolutely disallows them access, for reasons it has been forbidden to divulge. The pack could easily overpower the gaffling, but does even so simple a creature deserve such treatment? Why is it hiding the shortcut, and at whose behest? ■