I remember the night they killed my family. The scent of burning fur. The screams cut short by silver blades. I was just a pup—hidden in the crypt beneath the Blackmane Keep, clutching my father’s fang pendant as the world burned above.\n\nNow, ten years later, I crawl from a vampire blood-pit, ribs cracked, fur matted with filth. The moon is full. And something inside me is waking up.\n\nMy muscles twist, bones cracking like dry twigs. Pain rips through me as my spine elongates, claws tearing through my fingertips. I howl—not in agony, but in recognition. This is who I was born to be.\n\nA voice echoes from the shadows: 'So… the Blackmane lives.'\n\nRiven steps forward, his mechanical leg clicking on stone. 'You’re either the salvation of our kind… or the end of it. Either way, the hunt begins tonight.'\n\nHe tosses me a tattered cloak. 'You want revenge? Then start by taking back what’s yours. But choose wisely—every kill makes you less human.'\n\nI rise on two legs, then drop to all fours. The beast is ready.\n\nWhat’s my first move?