You are the werewolf. You make trouble. Unseen, unknown,
undetected - until it's too late.
In the city the skies grow black with the fumes from the
iron furnaces, while the machinery of man scrubs away the last remnants of the
wild. Man has grown overconfident, arrogant in his prowess, sloppy in his
execution. Now the time is opportune, the nights grow longer, the winter
approaches, what man has built, you can destroy. But time moves swiftly, and
even now it may already be too late.
Leap, traipse, lunge, prowl, sneak, slide, sprint, dive,
spin, hunt, stalk, steal. Your resourcefulness is your arsenal. As a werewolf
you are one of a dying breed, a wolf that can stand on two legs as tall as a
man, strong and powerful, with a cunning intellect beyond that of ordinary
wolves. Werewolves do not transform into men, you are always in one form.
Unlike wolves, werewolves are solitary hunters, but as one you can command
packs of wolves who will recognize you as the dominant alpha. You can use the
wolf-packs at your disposal to coordinate attacks on the machinery of man,
hit-and-run tactics or all-out bedlam. However, every action comes with a
reaction, and mankind will react in kind. Become too bold and too blatant in
your attacks, and the villagers will band together and form a militia to
systematically wipe out the wolves. You must keep them afraid so as to halt
their expansion, but not so much as to cause them to lash out. If pressed far
enough the humans will set fire to the woods, burning your territory in a
relentless mad march to wipe out all the wolves. As you play man is in the
process of expanding his territory. This expansion is reactive and on a
high-level akin to an RTS. You can disrupt this expansion, but your actions may
also cause more expansion or the demolition of key routes.
You are the fear.
You are the terror that stalks the night.
You are the unseen eye,
the howl in the nitid moonlight.
You are the werewolf.
