It was a long, long time ago, a time when man still hunted the great herds of animals and lived in tribes that the Kierrn were born. It was a time when man still had strong ties to spirit world, and one could still speak to the universe, and be heard. It was in what is now called Europe that there lived a great wise man, a shaman of the tribe, and brother to the great chieftan, their leader. The tribe was prosperous and happy, and had many successful hunts because of their shaman and his workings in the spirit world. But as time went on the shaman began to feel that the balance of all things was beginning to falter because of the success of the tribe, and so he asked the spirits to correct the balance, and make the tribe less successfull.

Now the chieftan had always been jealous of his brother whom the spirits favored, and so when the hunts began to become difficult, and the herds disappeared with winter coming on, the chieftan blamed his brother the shaman. The shaman was chased out of the tribe, and a new shaman was elected to take his place. The old shaman was not so angered as he was saddened, for he knew that the balance of the tribe would continue unchecked, and eventually the tribe would die altogether. He watched from afar as the new shaman prayed to the spirits, and again the herds returned and the tribe hunted as never before, killing selfishly and taking only what they wanted, never thanking the spirits of the animals for their sacrifices. The spirits began to rebel against the tribe, but the new shaman's magic was very powefull and he called upon many forces to protect the tribe. The spirits tried to freeze the tribe in the winter, but the new shaman's fire kept them warm. The spirits tried to starve them by keeping the herds away, but the new shaman always knew where the animals could be found. The old shaman watched all of this from a distance, saddened by the state of his people.

It was deep in the winter when things began to go very wrong in the tribe. The women were dying in labor, their children being born deformed, and dead. A sickness ran through the tribe, weakening the people with fever and delerium. The spirits were very angry indeed. It was during this time that a pack of wolves, starving because all the herd animals in the area had been descimated by the greedy tribe, came into the village where food was abundant and stole a child, tearing it apart in their hunger. The tribe saw this as an attack from demonic forces and went after the pack, tracking down and killing every last member and taking their skins. The old shaman watched all of this in horror, knowing the attack of the wolves was only the spirits' attempt to restore balance to the tribe. As the old shaman wandered about, grieving for his people, outrage in his heart, he came across a member of the pack that had managed to get away. It was an older female, and she was fatally wounded, a spear head broken off in her ribs. She was barely alive as he cradled her body, ripping the spear from her side. The old shaman was outraged, unable to bear the shame of his people any longer. He prayed mightily to the spirits then as he held the dying wolf, gazing up at the moon as he cut a long gash in arm with the spear head. As his blood mingled with the blood of the wolf, he prayed to the most powerfull spirit, the spirit of the moon, that his people might know balance again, and that the spirits his tribe had offended would take vengeance, but allow his tribe to live.

So mighty was the shaman's prayers, and so pure was his blood that the wolf suddenly twisted in his arms and buried it's fangs in his neck, holding on tightly to him as he passed out. When he awoke, a nude woman stood over him, looking at him curiously. It was with a shock that he then noticed he was a wolf, and not a man anymore. The woman spoke to him, and called him by name, saying that they had been blessed by the spirits to restore balance to his tribe. They had been created by ancient magic, old magic of the very universe itself that knew no dark or light, no evil or good, only balance. It was the raw energy of creation itself that changed them, demanding that balance be maintained. For light there must be dark, for giving there must be taking, and for life there must be death. The two found that they could transform into either human or a wolf-like form, but they were not wolves, nor were they human, but beings created from both, and created for one purpose. To kill.

Together they hunted the tribe, and destroyed the weak and foolish that were causing the tribe harm. The diseased and old, the insane and weak, all were their prey. They took care to spare those who were strong, and healthy, and eventually the tribe knew it's place again and the people became healthy and strong, and balance was restored. The wolf and the old shaman became mates, eventually producing children who were as they were, and a race was born. As time wore on, it was also discovered that they could also change selected humans into their kind as well, and the children of the moon flourished, bringing balance to the tribes of men.

But in all things there must be a balance, even for those who would do the balancing. Some time later, when the children of the moon were numerous throughout the land, that man happened upon their one weakness. Silver

(to be continued...)