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Rusty grew up in a mobile home in the middle of nowhere Arkansas. He was raised by his mother Darla, who worked very hard to make ends meet working at the factory fifteen miles away. They had a pretty normal life until when he was about fifteen years old and his mother started dating this guy Mike. Mike seemed fine at first, a regular small town guy who was a hard worker, liked drinking with the boys and getting in fights. Although he was kinda rude to Rusty and his mother sometimes. One night he came in drunk and started fighting with Darla, and not just verbally or even pushing around. Once Mike got mad enough he began to hit Darla like he was fighting a man. Rusty tried to stop him, and got his ass kicked and tied to the pipe under the sink while Mike raped his mother in the next room. From then on, Rusty hated Mike. But this was just the beginning. No, Darla didn't leave Mike as Rusty begged her to, she gave the typical excuse that she loved him and had probably done something to make him mad. When Rusty was eighteen, getting ready to leave home, the beatings had become more frequent. Of course he tried to fight back at times but Mike was an almost unnaturally large guy and always defeated Rusty. Rusty wasn't all that little himself, especially since when he was sixteen he began working out, in hopes that someday he would be able to beat Mike. Not only that, but having to fight with your mom's boyfriend once a month gives you some decent experience. Oh he would call the cops sometimes, but whenever he could actually get Mike busted his mother would drop the charges.

Mike thought that Rusty had become old enough to hang with him and the boys now so he began to 'invite' Rusty out to romp with him sometimes. Rusty didn't want to, but he knew that if he refused, when Mike came back home he would not be in a good mood, besides, he was going to be leaving home soon anyway. One night Mike took him out to a friend's hunting lodge deep in the forest. As usual, Mike started drinking and getting rowdy with his friends. They'd been there for awhile and Rusty started getting tired so he went to sleep in one of the bedrooms. Rusty had no idea what time it was, but sometime during the night he was awakened by the sound of animals outside. He got up and went downstairs to find that the lodge was empty. There's that noise again, what is that a wolf? Rusty looked through the windows and saw nothing but nightshaded forest. With his curiosity sparked, he began to look around the lodge. He found nothing especially interesting except the usual hunting supplies, animal pelts, and white power paraphernalia. So he decided to find something to eat and watch television while he was waiting. The lodge had a huge kitchen with lots of cooking equipment and an industrial size refrigerator/freezer to store meat. He looked inside and found almost nothing but meat and beer. But what kind of meat is that? That doesn't look like any kind of meat I've seen before. Rusty couldn't sit back down now, he wanted to leave. So he grabbed a flashlight and rifle and went outside. Upon going outside, Rusty discovered that everyone's cars were still there. Deciding that they must be out doing some late-night hunting, he grabbed a dirt bike and began to ride deeper into the night to find them. Rusty hadn't gone far from the lodge when he could hear what sounded like a party far off in the distance. That MUST be them. Rusty thought as he started riding toward the noise. As he got closer and closer, Rusty could make out the sound of drums in the background. Strange, he thought, but it still must be them. So he forged on, cautiously watching the mysterious woods that surrounded him. When he neared the noise, he could see that there was a small fire going with figures dancing around it and what must have been a fresh kill hanging from a tree.

Rusty ditched the bike and when he reached the area with the dancing figures, he hid in the brush nearby and watched. What he saw was unlike anything he had ever seen before. He saw men and wolves dancing around a fire, obviously performing some kind of ritual. Rusty could make out the men as some of Mike's friends, but some of them were larger than normal and had extra hair on their bodies. Hung from a tree were two badly beaten semi-conscious campers, one woman and one man stripped to the nude. They looked too weak to give much resistance. What the fuck is that? A huge black man-dog, unmistakably a werewolf, emerged from a dark area of the clearing. Anyone else would have given in to fear and ran by the sight of this creature, but as Rusty was about to find out, he was special. The werewolf used its claws to cut down the two campers and they went falling to the ground. Someone said something about 'praise to the Wyrm', the werewolf began howling and the rest of the creatures in the clearing began to shift to a similar werewolf form. The creatures closed in on the helpless campers and...

Rusty did not want to see any more. He started to stand up and as he turned around he saw Mike. "You're one of us ya know." Mike was naked and had blood on him. "What the fuck! ...Mike are you okay? Lets get the fuck outta here!" "No, I'm with them... and so are you." Rusty clenched his rifle. "You mean you're one of those fuckin things too?" Rusty started backing away. "Yes, and you share our blood. We are Black Spiral and you are a kin to Black Spiral. Your father must have been a werewolf. ...Ya know I was hoping you'd find us out here. It's about time you found out. Why don't you join us, we're about to have dinner." "Hahaha, I can see that. No thanks." Screams could be heard from behind them as the monsters began to tear into the camper's bodies. "Look," Mike said, "if you don't join us I'll have to kill you, so you might as well come along." Rusty hesitated, but a smile came to his face as he realized that he now could shoot Mike with good reason. "Join this mutherfucker!" Rusty shoved the rifle up to Mike's throat and pulled the trigger. As Mike's body falls to the ground you have one thought on your mind...

RUN RUN RUN!

Congratulations. You just made the shit list of the Black Spiral tribe. You just shot the leader of a small pack of Black Spiral Dancers while he was in homid form. Is he dead? That's up to your storyteller. If you make it to safety, you have five pissed off werewolves that will stop at nothing to kill you.

Suggested Merits and Flaws

Merits: Kinfolk (to Black Spiral Dancers), Immune to Wyrm Emanations, Charmed Existance, Unbondable, Iron Will, Ambidextrous

Flaws: Hatred (of Black Spiral Dancers), Taint of Corruption