From the official doctrine of Faoladh lore
Written by Dr. Vanessa O’Fahy of Pack O’Fahy
No one knows who the first Faoladh was, or how she came to be. The myth’s say it was the rage of a woman, perhaps a generation of women wronged for too long. Some say the woman asked the fae for power, others say a group of women formed a coven and their rage birthed a magic so fierce if gave voice to the first howl. Some say the first howl happened under the light of the full moon. Others say it was merely on the full moon that She, the first Faoladh, was seen, running out of a forest with the first pack, to get justice for what been done to her.
It was agreed that no matter how they came to be, the first was born in Ireland. For centuries the strongest Faoladh Pack was headquartered there. Throughout the years Faoladh packs grew, going where they were needed, pack by pack, city by city, country by country. They were always a peacekeeping force, righting wrongs, protecting those who need it, coming to the aid of others when natural disasters struck. At the height of their strength, Faoladh packs were an international force. Twice a year (always on a full moon) the matriarchs gathered their pack and returned to Ireland for the Summit an event that always more celebration than meeting.
As the world changed, so did their role in society, somewhat. In modern day some folk felt safer calling 911 than their local pack. Some Faoladh packs worked with police. In some cities around the world, none but Faoladh could occupy official roles of social justice. In other places, if police refused their cooperation they’d turn to being vigilante’s. They never stopped being protectors, it was a calling in their blood they couldn’t ignore, and most agreed it was better to let Faoladh help, rather than shut them out, because few creatures could be as stubborn, determined (or had better lawyers to get those vigilante charges dropped) than a Faoladh protecting their home or their family.
But a fracture, a wound, weakened the Faoladh. What happened in Ireland, 75 years to this day nobody could figure. In one violent night something wiped the strongest Faoladh out of the region. The few survivors that were reported would not speak of what happened, and disappeared so thoroughly not even the other packs of the world could find them.**
Some said the Irish Pack went too far, they had tempers after all. Some say, they became mad with power, killed the wrong person, and it was the people and other supernatural creatures of the country that wiped them out. In an abrupt 180, public opinion of Faoladh in this region of Ireland changed over night. It was strange that, as if an invisible PR campaign was launched against the Faoladh who had been seen as a countries savior, heroes and family.
Whatever happened, to this day, it was rare to see a wolf in Ireland.
Faoladh packs around the world couldn’t make sense of it. Some said it was a hidden sect of devils, or blood witches. Other’s scoffed at that idea, claiming no such creatures was stronger than the Wolves of Ireland. That arrogance started the speculation it had to be another Wolf pack responsible, and for a good decade suspicions were so high infighting arose, and what use to be rock solid communication between the Wolf packs of the world suffered.
It took a little over twelve years for the the matriarchs to come back to the kin tables, and communication started again. But it was fractured, strained, and would be, until the mystery of what killed so many of their kind was solved. The wound of that night cut deep, because Wolves never cared what kind of wolf you were. They didn’t care if you had a pack, or you preferred to run alone. It didn’t matter what part of the world you hailed from, if you were Faoladh you’d always be welcome. But, the suspicion that one of their own might be responsible, that some of the worlds best detectives could not ascertain what happened to their own kind that night in Ireland was a cancer that continued to slowly eat away at what had been a consolidated, international force for good.
We pray to She, the first, that one day her rage awakens inside of us again and our pack be made whole.