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Before I was Nightwolf, I was a fool named Grey Cloud.
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Born into poverty, I resented my ancestors for giving up our future to colonizers...
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Kano offered a way out, promising riches if I stole my tribe's most sacred relics.
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I was sorely tempted, but then I realized by saving myself, I'd be surrendering the last of my people's dignity.
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For the first time, I defended the Matoka's pride.
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Kano was unimpressed.
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But as I lay dying, the Great Spirit came to me.
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By rejecting Kano, I had proven worthy of an ancient honor. The mantle of Nightwolf... legendary defender of the Matoka.
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Now, as I inherit Kronika's mantle, the way before me is split.
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The Keeper of Time cannot also be my tribe's defender. Which path do I choose?
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Even here, at time's beginning, the Great Spirit's wisdom guides me. She calls me to restore history.
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The Matoka, I must leave to another.
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To the next Nightwolf. Like all our sacred relics, the Nightwolf mantle belongs to the tribe.
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Any Matokan can prove worthy of its power.
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I enjoy imagining who will defend us next.
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