The world has gone to shit. It started long before your earliest ancestors were born though. The Triat of godlike spirits that created the universe has failed to maintain a balance. The Wyld, a force of raw creation, roils with power and energy and flings it into the universe willy-nilly.
The Weaver, a force of order and stability, is supposed to take that power and energy and turn it into some useful, shape it into beings that have a place in the universe.
The Wyrm, pure entropy, supposed to remove the excess and returns the material to the Wyld to be created anew.
Ages ago, the storytellers say, the Weaver went mad. She tried to bring order to everything, even to entropy itself, and trapped the Wyrm in her web.
The Wyrm went insane, and instead of recycling responsibly, sought violent destruction and corruption for its own sake.
From this Triat, were born the spirit worlds and the physical world. Most everything in the physical world has a spiritual counterpart somewhere.
The earth itself, is represented in the spirit world by an incredibly powerful spirit called Gaia. he moon, by a similarly powerful spirit known as Luna.
As the Wyrm began to spread it’s corruption, Gaia took many of the creatures that inhabited the physical realm and made them special.
The Garou, werewolves, to be her army and protect her against the corruption of the Wyrm.
The Mokole, weresaurians, to remember the history and all that happens.
The Corax, wereravens, to act as messengers and spies.
The Bastet, werecats, to root out any and all secrets and hold them tight.
The Gurahl, werebears, to heal the land and temper the warriors with serenity.
The Nuwisha, werecoyotes, tricksters and jesters, but also humbling teachers.
The Ratkin, wererats, to cull the spread of humanity, that resources would not be overtaxed.
The Rokea, the weresharks, to keep the waters free of corruption and to simply survive.
The Ajaba, werehyenas, created to serve as liaison between Garou and Bastet, an idea that did not turn out so well. Loathed by both sides, they were nearly wiped out 30 years ago.
The last of the shifters were not created by Gaia, but by the Weaver, the Ananasi. Werespiders. Blood-drinkers and long-thinkers.
The Wyrm has it’s own warriors. Corruption takes many forms. From overt to covert and everything in between. When a kid takes a weapon to school and mows down his classmates, there you will find the Wyrm. When a company dumps toxic waste into a rainforest landfill, there will you find the Wyrm. When a man comes home, eats a nice meal, and then beats his wife and children to death, there will you find the Wyrm. It is not the cause of these events, but it has pushed things, manipulated events, to lead others down dark paths. A whisper at the right moment from the lowest of Wyrm servants can cause more damage than the greatest battle-driven Beast-of-War.
In some cases, agents of the Wyrm can directly force someone to act in this manner. They would greatly prefer to let it be the subject’s own choice to commit these terrible acts.
The difference between fast food and fine dining, as it were.
This world is filled with evil. It is filled with stagnant order. You have been born into this world, and with your birth there is hope. There is struggle. Even something as simple as aiding a teenage runaway can do as much as fighting off a pack of Wyrm-ridden Black Spiral Dancers – the Wyrm’s own corrupt werewolves.