Lore Season 1: A New Age

Long before the first cities of Primordia, the land was shared in harmony between men and wolves, the latter being known as Moonrunners.

Over a millennium of peace would be shattered in an event that in later centuries came to be called the Crimson Flood.

The unbroken peace has been maintained by a gifted castle of men known as Moonspeakers, capable of translating wolven speech.

Their role in society was revered by all of Primordia, which made their ultimate betrayal of mankind unfathomable...

Humanity developed at an unsustainable pace, risking life for all on Primordia, especially wolves.

Moonspeakers beseeched man to change their ways and not risk destroying the ancestral hunting grounds of Moonrunners, vital to their way of life.

Moonrunners, tired of the arrogance of man and to save themselves from inevitable extinction, massacred human cities across Primordia.

Thus sparking a bloody wolven crusade known as the Crimson Flood...

For the first time in history, wolves and man had turned bitter enemies. With mankind seeing the Crimson Flood as an unprovoked and irreversible attack.

The technological advancements of humanity allowed their weapons to rapidly develop past the capabilities of Moonrunners' defences.

Within a few years the wolven population has been decimated with only 10,000 fighters remaining, but they had a secret weapon up their sleeves...

The full moon is coming... be prepared.

The Moonspeakers, having forever eschewed violence, were disgusted by the force used by man, and deflected to join the Moonrunners.

Their deep understanding of human tactics and its weaknesses allowed them to become Wolf Trainers.

As their bond strengthened, Wolf Trainers discovered a deeper, long forgotten connection to the Moonrunners.

On every full moon, visions revealed themselves to the Trainers. These prophecies were heralded as the final hope to turn the tide of the war.

Among these new prophecies came a revelation...

A powerful and rare full moon approached, a syzygy that would conceal the planet Carousa in the night sky and usher in a new age for the Lycans.

As the golden record voyages through space, its radiance illuminates all. We see the hues of every mare, deep and dark but never tall.

Primordia and Earth are as a mirror, but rarely does it fall. When our cycle begins anew, the crimson flood shall cast a pall

Primordia is an ancient, fractured planet, home to the Hunter, Predator, Pack, Stealth, Roaming, and Brave tribes.

Each with its own deep-rooted history and traditions, honed over thousands of years of spilled blood and a hunger to survive the harsh landscape.

A single Moonspeaker was permitted to live amongst each tribe, acting as a bridge between wolves and humans.

Their deep knowledge of humankind proved vital in training wolves for the catastrophic war to come.

Foolhardy and courageous, the Brave Tribe is one of the most dominant on Primordia.

They reigned on Primordia for millennia, subjugating smaller tribes through violence and fear.

Since the Crimson Tide however, their thirst for war has shifted to vanquishing humankind.

A tribe impossible to elude, the Hunter Tribe's divergent evolution has made them master trackers on Primordia.

Their sensory ability allowed them to easily find and stockpile resources, making them the most economically powerful tribe.

In times of war, they conduct dangerous reconnaissance and scouting missions deep into enemy territory.

Masters of misdirection, and camouflage, the Stealth Tribe is rarely seen outside their cities, despite being intrepid explorers.

Their cunning tactics cause mayhem for humankind, who feared them as ghosts.

Their ability to mask their scent, and conceal their tracks made them perfect assassins.

Focused on peace-keeping between tribes and being the most sociable of all wolves.

Their strong ties to neighboring tribes and close proximity to human cities has positioned them to act as messengers and intercept enemy communication.

However, their location and peaceful nature has left them defenseless and at risk of being the first Tribe to be overrun in a human counter-attack.

Forced migrations due to human occupation displaced the Roaming Tribe's early ancestors.

Despite their exodus, they found freedom in a nomadic lifestyle and mapped all of Primordia through oral tradition.

Their deep knowledge of Primordia's vast landscape made them expert tacticians in pitched battles, and war maneuvers with humankind.

Ruthless and bloodthirsty, the Predator Tribe are Primordia's berserker class. Where they go, carnage follows.

Humanity, realizing the risk they posed to morale, relentlessly targeted their tribal grounds, decimating their population.

This emboldened the survivors to fight with a vengeance never before seen, never surrendering and to the death.

Darkness fills the night and the hearts of the Pack Tribe. Their newborn pup Nogard, has been kidnapped, striking fear and fury into the tribe.

A hunt for the perpetrator has begun. The Pack Tribe, inexperienced in tracking, has called on the Hunter Tribe for aid.

Their elders convened a council, and magnanimously sent their most experienced hunters to find clues.

Their senses heightened to exact vengeance, the lead hunters finally discovered Nogard, laid across a bloodsoaked altar.

Their hackles raised to the moon, they unleashed a pained howl that was heard across Primordia.

The eyes of the lifeless corpse were trapped in a state of terror. Surrounded by ritual signs only Moonspeakers could understand and human tools, the Pack Tribe immediately blamed the humans, but Hunter Tribe found tracks they couldn't explain.

Showcasing their prowess, Hunter tribe utilized the scent obtained from the tools left at the ritual site to track and capture the perpetrator...a human.

As the enraged Predator interrogations began, the human coward confessed to the heinous crime and stated he'd gladly do it again. Swiftly, the human reached for his blood stained dagger, muttering a phrase in a foreign tongue, and slit his own throat.

Finally united, the Tribes gathered in a show of solidarity, knowing this tragedy could have been their own.

Nogard's parents' impassioned plea for revenge resonated across the tribal gathering held on shared wolven ground.

The wolves dug their claws into the dirt as the trainers clenched their fists, eyes darted in the crowd with a common understanding - that war was coming.

Arriving one by one, cloaked in tattered robes, the Moonspeakers sat down silently.

The dank, stone room, deep in the Predator Tribe mountains, hadn't seen life for thousands of years. Furtive nods were exchanged and the meeting commenced.

The flambeaux cast shadows that danced across the large obsidian table. A consensus was quickly reached that an auspicious day was coming unexplainable but sensed by all present. They would have to wait for the full moon to launch their attack.

A full moon unlike any ever seen by those living on Primordia. The distant light of Carousa glowed faintly behind the moon, casting a potent omen.

Something is coming for those on Primordia, something powerful. All eyes to the night sky.

Confusion was quickly followed by panic as the Moonspeakers began to disappear. Stealth Tribe wolves, forever lurking as shadows across the land, witnessed their frenzied cries for help. Unsure how to intervene, they reported it to the other Tribes.

Deep in the forests across Primordia, the Moonspeakers withered in agony. A power unknown to them coursed a fire through their veins, transforming them beyond recognition. The time of the Lycan had finally come.

War howls broke the silence of the night as every Tribe across Primordia assembled on the battlefield.

Their fur glistened in the moonlight as they took their positions, agreed upon by the shared war knowledge of the Brave and Pack Tribes.

Seething with anger, and a thirst for vengeance for the death of Nogard, the wolves growled, hackles rising, as their incisors dripped in anticipation.

Ever confident in their technology, humanity stood listlessly, staring as thousands of wolves gathered before them.

Tribes, once bitter enemies, braced shoulder to shoulder, in their assigned battalions.

The Predator Tribe, already war-scarred from earlier skirmishing, stood at the vanguard, eyes hollow, unblinking, at the enemy before them.

The howling subsided and the field finally lay silent, broken only by the guttural breathing of the wolves.

After a moment of calm, the humans slowly began their march forward, robotic in their synchronicity, towards the wolves.

Howls erupted across the plain, sending cold shudders down the spines of the humans.

At a speed inconceivable to those present, the Predator Tribe struck first wreaking mayhem, and devastating the unprepared human frontline.

Humans launched fire attacks, scorching the hides of battling wolves. Thanks to the lessons of the Moonspeakers, the Brave Tribe sought out and destroyed the human war machines - a diversion that allowed the Stealth Tribe to sneak behind enemy lines.

The battle raged on, caking the soil in the blood of both man and wolf. Entire wolven families slaughtered, further lowering dwindling tribal numbers.

Many were saved thanks to the aid of the Pack Tribe and the supplies of Hunter Tribe.

Humans launched a fierce armoured tank attack that even the Moonspeakers had not prepared them for.

The wolves immediately sensed they were powerless against such weapons, gripping their army in a pang of fear that this war would now be lost.

From behind wolven lines a creature never before seen, emerged from deep within the forest, a hybrid that at first the wolves thought was a human weapon.

But as they raced past the wolves towards the human army the wolven legends sunk in - they were in the presence of Lycans.

The Lycans, with a strength unlike anything thought possible, tore through the tanks, tipping them, tearing off their turrets and bending the cannon as if they were wire. The wolves overran the remaining tanks and slaughtered the few that survived the Lycan assault.

Human morale began to falter as the tide began to turn in the wolves favor. The human death throes and wolven whimpers were overpowered by the ongoing howls, and clang of weapons on the battlefield. A requiem etched into the mind of all survivors.

The Stealth Tribe, finding the enemy command center, assassinated the guards and signalled with a special howl to the few remaining Predator Tribe fighters. Hearing the call they weaved a sinuous path at lightning speed through the battlefield into the building.

The Stealth Tribe assassins looked away in horror as the Predator Tribe massacred the entire room of terrified human officers in a gruesome display of ferocity and gore. Without leadership and proper lines of communication, the human front collapsed.

The two day battle was finally over as the remaining humans surrendered and the Tribes began to tend to their casualties.

The wolves understood that it was a pyrrhic victory, and mourned the loss of their comrades across all Tribes.

Snouts raised to the night sky, the wolves sang in honor of their fallen. The howls echoed through the valleys and mountains of Primordia, a somber reminder of the cost of war.

Among the ruins of the battlefield, the wolves discovered strange eggs, unlike anything they had ever seen. Their origin was a mystery, but their presence filled the wolves with unease.