By Timothy Toner (thanatos@interaccess.com) (3 Dec 93)
From such circumstances, one could not expect a blossoming of philosophy, especially when those who practice it daily struggle to survive. However, a strange group has recently risen out of the masses of Gnawers that call the cities home. Somewhat secretive, they spend their lives uniting the tribes that inhabit the city, mediating differences, and going head on against the Machine and its tools.
One would assume that this would be the role of Elders. However, a little over a hundred and fifty years ago, when the world was deep within the Industrial Revolution, a few Gnawers realized that much of the established territories had been disrupted by the flow of Garou to more prosperous city centers. These groups, now thriving, pushed to expand their borders, often at the expense of other, smaller Gnawer packs.
From those young Gnawers who did not appreciate being told who to fight by greedy Elders arose a group of idealist Gnawers who were convinced that mediation and mutual concession could lead to strength. However, in the repressed clime of Victorian England, it was dangerous in the city to speak one's mind, especially around other Garou who would be travelling in the city on less than savory missions.
For the idealists to succeed, it became necessary to hide in plain sight, to speak a language like none other, a language only they understood.
And so they mumbled. It seemed to be a combination of English and Garou, and to the average listener, it made no sense. Linguists tried to study their speech pattern, and only came up with vague notions that they were speaking something between Cockney and Welsh. To the Homids, they were merely members of the Lowest classes, and thus beneath note. These groups came to be known as "Mumblers," a name that has stuck to this day.
Now the Mumblers were neither pacifists nor aggressive in nature. They merely felt that mutual concession and elaborate systems of alliances could mediate any problem. They read Greek Philosophy, and in very many ways emulated the Greek City-State system. To many, they were a boon, since they could travel virtually anywhere unmolested. Further, the more hostile Garou would pass them by as harmlessly insane, after a chorus of unintelligent babbling.
Under their mediation, great conflicts were avoided, and time and again, they proved their value to the Gnawers, and the Garou in general. As the first group grew old, they passed up positions of honor in their Tribes, instead preferring to remain free of the alliances they themselves helped create. The Mumblers then sought out other younger idealists, and taught them their unique language and beliefs.
Many older Garou, seeing the Mumblers come to create treaties that they seemed to have no personal stake in, feared that the Mumblers had some grand ulterior motive, and indeed they did. The Elders revealed to their successors that they sought to end the constant warfare that plagued their people. With the rise of cities, and the destruction of forests to feed the factories, their old existence was dying off. It was necessary them to create a home for their kind here in the cities, a safe haven where strife did not exist. By keeping a low profile, perhaps it was possible to coexist with Homids and the occasional vampires.
Open warfare, however, would jeopardize everything. Thus, an environment of peace had to flourish before the Garou could learn to have a more open mind toward other groups. It was the job, then, of the Mumblers to act as spies and diplomats, to suck up and to stare down, and always to remain objective.
And to a limited degree, it worked. The next generation of Mumblers were sent out to other boom cities, to try to mediate the growing strife that surrounded some cities, as the Wylds quickly vanished.
However, what worked well in England did not work in America. The established Gnawers, always receptive to the arrival of Mumblers around the fire, now regarded their English cousins with disdain. They were just another one of the wave of immigrants that were crowding them out of their homes.
Despondent and cut off from the homeland, these expatriates decided to do the Gnawer thing, and make the best of a bad situation. They integrated themselves into Garou society, and continued to try to act as ambassadors. However, whereas in Europe, Kindred were more willing to live with Garou, the American Kindred maintained their cities mercilessly. Some tried their best to make alliances with Kindred, but were immediately rejected by their Garou cousins.
It was decided by the largest enclave of Mumblers in America to go underground, to conceal their secrets, and to wait a full generation without any attempt to mediate. They would continue to seek out idealists, and teach them the language and customs, so that their dream would not die.
Going underground, however, had an unexpected effect. So often concerned with decorum and getting the job done, the Mumblers were now allowed to exercise their true love: aesthetic pleasures. Under the pretext of "recruitment," they actively sought out the best and the brightest in the nation, and discussed the finer aspects of life.
However, their low birth and lower standard of living would forever keep them from entering positions of influence. They remained on the periphery, watching and discussing, never acting. The Mumblers allowed the generation to pass, and another, and another.
An opportunity finally arose during the Great Depression. Gnawers fled to cities with ready work, and ran into pre-established packs barely getting by. Many accepted employment with organized crime to keep food in their bellies. Open warfare seemed ready to spill out at any moment, with more Garou pouring in daily.
The Mumblers came forth, and offered their support. Initially rebuffed, they found some groups so desperate for relief that they would trust anyone. They did their best, following the lessons of past masters. However, they found that the Mumble wasn't working as it once did. People still couldn't understand it, but they actually seemed to be responding to it. By doing it with a certain idea in mind, the Mumblers found that they could convey the idea without speaking it. It, of course, made their job much easier.
Then the Second Great Schism manifested in the Mumbler ranks. The first was one of geographical distance; the second of ideological difference. Some wanted to continue to act as Ambassadors to the city and suburban Garou, serving as liaisons that did not care about alliances and past hatreds.
The second group, however, wanted to explore the nature of their new found powers. The babble, once significant only to them, now was taking on a physicality that was influencing others. It seemed to act subconsciously, driven by internal forces. The Mumbler mission had always be an altruistic one. Why had this power sprung from that belief?
To this day, the two groups act, united by history and language, separate in mission and goals. The Diplomats strive to create a safe haven within the city. They are the first on the scene in times of intertribal turmoil, and they are always seen lurking in the shadows, talking to some Kindred about current politics amongst the undead, and how they can turn it to their advantage.
The Nothings (Pronounced "Know Things") seek to understand the precise nature of reality, as they plumb the depth of a power few understand. They trace their roots to the first acts of the Weaver, giving language to humanity. As philosophers, they believe in the Doctrine of the Thing, a method of looking at reality as an entity that can be transmuted through adding or subtracting the words and syllables that describe it. They have used this belief to tap into the basic essence of Gaia, to master powerful, frightening Gifts.
It would seem both groups have moved far from the original aims of the Bone Gnawers. However, both are reactions to the survival urge found ingrained in the Gnawer tribe. The Diplomats see the city as a social entity that must be survived on a social level. The Nothings see reality itself as a entity to be harvested and refined through subtle manipulations. The abstract nature of the Gift makes it inaccessible to most Garou, so the Nothings must actively seek to serve all, to make the world a more survivable place, for those too weak or tired to fight.
The rest of Garou society are a tad confused by the Mumblers. They see the two as one organization, somehow working together. As Bone Gnawers, they are universally reviled as being weak, and the obsequious nature of the Diplomats do not improve that image. Further, the Nothings wander the cities, seeking answers and solutions, and acting almost as enigmatic as the Shadow Lords. Finally, the babble that they speak when amongst other mumblers is genuinely annoying, causing few to tolerate Mumblers for long periods of time. Still, the good that they do to Garou society in mediating disputes is unrivalled, and the amount of secret threats met and defeated by the Nothings are uncountable.
Part of the doctrine seems to have comes from a desire to conceal intent, even from other Garou (which makes the standard system of growls impractical), started by a mysterious group of Gnawers called the Mumblers. These Gnawers have found a way of thinking about an object so carefully, that all actions, activities, and words expressed reflect that entity. Thus, if they want to tell a bud that an area is dangerous, but cannot voice their concern directly because of other listeners, they can give this indication, and convey the message.
This was all very well for covertly exchanging information by literally talking about everything except the topic, but as Gnawers became more adept at applying the doctrine, they found that they could influence the way listeners thought about the topic. Further refinement of the Doctrine seemed to allow the speaker to change the very nature of the object she was speaking about. The final application, No Thing, is said to be able to actually talk an item out of existence!
Although the Mumblers began the Doctrine of Thing, anyone taught their special language can not only communicate the Babble, the name for their cant of disparate words and syllables, but can tap into the hidden potential of the Cant.