In 2011, the world ended.

For some. For most, though, the sun still set, and unlife continued.

Some kindred consider the night of the Beckoning to have been the moment of Gehenna. Nothing else could have caused so many elders to just disappear…. But the moon never ran as blood, the sun never rose black in the sky. Nothing boiled from the ground, and the world never turned cold.

The fabled end-times came and went just like any other night, unlike anything vampires had ever predicted. But the world kept turning.

“Things need not have happened to be true. Tales and dreams are the shadow-truths that will endure when mere facts are dust and ashes, and forgot.”
~ Neil Gaiman, Dream Country

Since the departure of the Tuatha De Dannan the crown passed from Seelie to Unseelie in accordance with powerful oaths. War and ruin was the result each time the cycle was broken. Winter has reigned for more than twenty years. Much of what was is now lost, and what the future holds is unknown. Through sacrifice and courage the Kithain have turned back the clock of seasons. Where once bare branches and snow existed, Autumn leaves fall again.

But the Kithain are divided, their oldest enemies have escaped their bonds and again touch the Autumn world. Old alliances must be reforged and the way forward found before the Elder Dark falls upon the world and nightmares rule once more.

On Frayed Threads is set nine years after “The Night the Weaver Sang,” the night that changed the face of the world of Garou and Fera alike. By the hundreds and thousands, Kinfolk and non-kinfolk across the nation heard the unifying dulcet tones of the Weaver and in less than twelve hours, had traveled out of the areas protected by the changers, and vanished. Some were found in time, but were so touched and Tainted by the Weaver that they were drone like and nothing more than shells of their former selves.

The next day many Garou and Fera, mostly those of the Glasswalkers, who were steeped in and held close to the Weaver and its trappings followed suit.