htr
Discord servers tagged with htr
85
19 days ago
**Server**: New Orleans By Night
**System**: V5, H5, W5
**Playable Sects**: Hecata, Anarchs, Camarilla, Independent, Sabbat, Hunters, garou
**Others**: Mortals, Ghouls, wolf in sheep’s clothing
**Any Homebrew** Few homebrew rules pertaining to domains, masquerade breaches, and some loresheets and disciplines
**Style**: Play by Post/ voice Rp
**Language** English
**Breakdown:** With the city coming out of a war with the Fera and a purge by the Second Inquisition. The survivors struggle to rebuild. The mortal authorities have pulled back leaving the city with large gaps in power.
**The Hunters** are humanities reckoning. They seek to investigate the cities secrets and uncover the truth about the world of darkness. When the truth is revealed… will they run… or fight?
**The Garou**, tasked with fighting the rise of wyrm corruption whilst balancing their conflict with the children of Caine for the limited resources in the city. Have their work cut out for them.
**System**: V5, H5, W5
**Playable Sects**: Hecata, Anarchs, Camarilla, Independent, Sabbat, Hunters, garou
**Others**: Mortals, Ghouls, wolf in sheep’s clothing
**Any Homebrew** Few homebrew rules pertaining to domains, masquerade breaches, and some loresheets and disciplines
**Style**: Play by Post/ voice Rp
**Language** English
**Breakdown:** With the city coming out of a war with the Fera and a purge by the Second Inquisition. The survivors struggle to rebuild. The mortal authorities have pulled back leaving the city with large gaps in power.
**The Hunters** are humanities reckoning. They seek to investigate the cities secrets and uncover the truth about the world of darkness. When the truth is revealed… will they run… or fight?
**The Garou**, tasked with fighting the rise of wyrm corruption whilst balancing their conflict with the children of Caine for the limited resources in the city. Have their work cut out for them.
14
37 days ago
Premise
The Apocalypse has already come—and the Garou lost.
The dream of saving Gaia ended not in triumph, but in smoke, silence, and shame.
When the Last Battle came, the Garou Nation faltered. Too divided, too proud, and too blind to their own decay, the tribes fought among themselves until there was no strength left to fight the real enemy. Now, what remains of the Nation lies in ruins—its moots silenced, its cairns defiled, its heroes dead or vanished into the Umbra.
Most of the surviving Garou have abandoned the old cause, wandering in small packs or hiding in forgotten places. Hope is a rare and fragile thing. The Get of Fenris, once honored for their ferocity, have descended into fanatic zealotry—waging a hopeless, endless crusade that even spirits turn away from. The Silver Fangs, once kings, are now pariahs, blamed for the arrogance and blindness that shattered the Nation. The other tribes? Scattered, leaderless, holding onto scraps of their former glory.
Yet not all is lost.
A few Septs still stand—weathered, bloodied, but unbroken. They hold their ground out of sheer stubbornness, guarding the last sparks of Gaia’s breath from the consuming dark.
The Apocalypse has already come—and the Garou lost.
The dream of saving Gaia ended not in triumph, but in smoke, silence, and shame.
When the Last Battle came, the Garou Nation faltered. Too divided, too proud, and too blind to their own decay, the tribes fought among themselves until there was no strength left to fight the real enemy. Now, what remains of the Nation lies in ruins—its moots silenced, its cairns defiled, its heroes dead or vanished into the Umbra.
Most of the surviving Garou have abandoned the old cause, wandering in small packs or hiding in forgotten places. Hope is a rare and fragile thing. The Get of Fenris, once honored for their ferocity, have descended into fanatic zealotry—waging a hopeless, endless crusade that even spirits turn away from. The Silver Fangs, once kings, are now pariahs, blamed for the arrogance and blindness that shattered the Nation. The other tribes? Scattered, leaderless, holding onto scraps of their former glory.
Yet not all is lost.
A few Septs still stand—weathered, bloodied, but unbroken. They hold their ground out of sheer stubbornness, guarding the last sparks of Gaia’s breath from the consuming dark.