A Shadow Over Russia
In the cold frozen Siberian waste land a mild winter set in, mild by Russian standards, but still cold enough to kill the unwary. In 1986 the Berlin wall still stood, but things were changing, Mikhail Gorbachev was president and glasnost (a more transparent government) was starting to be accepted. The end of the USSR was on the horizon and even the leadership knew it.
While wandering the Umbra looking for portents, signs, prophecy, or anything meaningful Tamara Tvarivich saw a horrible sight. She pleaded to her uncle to do something about it, however their forces were stretched thin. Vampires had grown in numbers while the Garou nation had "downsized". The Shadowlords were more content to play politics to take over the throne then they were to stop the hazards to the environment. They claimed the Silver Fangs grew weak and complacent not acknowledging the huge victory the the Silver Fangs had just won when the USSR agreed to a 15 year plan towards the abolishment of nuclear weapons.
So her plea fell on deaf ears. He told her it would have to wait. He didn't see the blackness so dark it swallowed the light. He didn't see the maw that was only visible because it was less black that was coming for her and the whole garou nation. The Sept of the Broken Arrow led by the Black Spiral Dancer "Wyrmfriend" had to be stopped. So at the moot she stood too young to acknowledge the crowd, but as niece of the Garou leader and of the finest lineage the Russian Silverfangs had no one dared to tell her to sit down.
She addressed the leaders about the urgency, her uncle afterward address the crowd and advised patience giving the same council he gave her. The crowd was moved, and sided with the elder of the Fangs, until the only Child of Danu (the Fianna) present offered council, "Silvertogue" recounted a story to the leaders gathered at the moot. The story had no happy endings. The story was their fault. The story was that of the White Howlers. When the Garou nation recieved word of the wyrm creature they dragged their feet because "they had more important business" as a result the bravest and best of their kind died one by one while waiting on reinforcements which never came.
The moving words of "Silvertongue" convinced those of the moot something had to be done, but they still faced the problem that this situation was a maybe an unknown, while the vampire attacks were a known and garou and kinfolk alike were dying in the fighting. In the end they sent a pack of werewolves who were very skilled and well trusted to go find this sept and this pack led by "Wyrmfriend". This pack while proficient some of the elders were glad to see them away as most of them were looked down on for at least one reason, or another so the metis, wyrm-tainted pack was sent on their journey to see what they could find.